From the recording Dear Companions

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I came south for the mental health
Of my best friend Connor Grey
We’d been friends since we were ten
So when he asked what could I say
I was spraying boats like my father did
till the poison in the paint it wrecked my skin
In the same cruel way, it did my old man’s heart when it caved his memory in

What could I say
For my friend
Connor grey
And my old man just the same
Now who would’ve said
That a working man’s debt
Would be paid with the cost of the brain

I took Connor from a halfway house
And we found a place
A chippy cross the road
We would walk I would talk
But it did no good
And the darkness inside him did grow

he needed more help than I could give
But that help it wasn’t easy to find
Three free sessions
The 80 bucks a time
Failed to ease his mind

So he tried and tried to end his own life
And I found him one day on the floor
a hundred stashed Panadols
And a chocolate milk bottle laying there right by the door
And I called my dad still up in the north
But he couldn’t place Connors name
It’s all going to hell I thought
Nothings gonna be the same

My dad was a man who spoke with his hands
But the meaning was always clear
But clarity’s now a fleeting thing
As he forgets all the things he held dear

He always said
“Men who wear ties
Will buy and they will sell you
Until the day that you die”
the bastards and their budgets
And the slashing of such
It gets me all red in the guts
And all them salary boys
With their white wine grins
Tell em all to get fucked
There’ll be no great society
built on the backs of tax cuts