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Mr Margins

from All These People Are Me by Solareye

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lyrics

I was born a twin. Separated at birth
Cause that little girl wasn't ready for this earth
So the first person I knew left when I drew my first breath
And came back a year later as ma sister, Mum said

Once the carousel's revolving no stopping or disembarking
I spent a lifetime with the mysteries of Mr Margins
Left home for it, decades on a pilgrimage
A ghost author, writing essays in the wilderness

I don't converse with the Holy Ghost often, only in times of blind panic
Where ma atheism is left behind stranded
What else?
I hope you're all comfy
People are so hungry I wonder what that says about ma country

And where I come fae - food banks, Banker's Crash
Trying to be a good man is a thankless task
Good people carry the weight of the world until their ankles snap
Financial cats futures are guaranteed like a Banker’s Draft

I was born clumsy, a crumpler
I take words and rearrange them when I find them jumbled up
Grew up on the outskirts of nowhere - just beyond it
Nothing existed in the void until I drew it if I'm honest

A hyperactive kid, restless and unsettled
Mouth tasting of metal, building walls out of lego
Ma father was a rebel, so I became an echo
He told me ‘you’ve got to cut the strings on own yir arms to meet Gepeto’

When I get agitated, words are ma Ritalin
If life’s a jotter then I’m living in the margins that I scribble in
But sometimes when you’re on the outside looking in
You get a better view of how the world spins

Dystopia, it’s a word that's overused
But that doesn’t mean its meaning doesn’t hold the truth
The loneliest muse I’ve been beholden to you since the fallopian tubes
My colloquial roots challenge colonial views reported as news

Celebrity sweat patches interrupt me while I'm trying to think
I close ma eyes, cover ma ears and dial Dial-a-Drink
Spying search engines try and tell me not to think this
I spent ma evenings trading riddles with the sphinxes

And ma days languishing and listless
That's just how it is when language is yir mistress
I've got no problem with authority
I represent outsiders and we're holding a majority

Man, fuck yir in-crowds, little cliques and cosy ups
Your numbered days get shorter, the longer you’re ignoring us
I channel hate, love, fear, hope and lust into broken words
That fill, spill and overflow from lips like blood from open cuts

Mr Margins, life on the periphery
Blend into a crowd, step on stage and then pontificate
I was born where every Venn Diagram intersected
And spent a lifetime on edge and on the edges

Mind the gap when alighting from this place…

credits

from All These People Are Me, released November 4, 2018

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about

Solareye Edinburgh, UK

Dave Hook writes rhymes. Sometimes Dave Hook calls himself Solareye.
Sometimes he raps with Stanley Odd. Mostly he makes stuff rhyme.

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