Cocaine Jane by Anthony Kost
She handed me a new spray pack, one of six, and declared to the otherwise empty room “Make me a canvas”. The bedroom wall of the abandoned house we were standing in, was currently the canvas of other people’s scrawlings, tags and the mandatory outline of a cock and balls. In ten minutes we had white washed the former mess into a white space. She pulled a thermos from her kit and poured a couple of black teas while we waited for paint to dry. She always knows the work she will produce before we arrive on site but doesn’t let on. I was there to prepare the canvas, run interference, chat and drink black tea. Curious about the lack of art hardware in her kit I ask of her piece for this wall. She pulled out half a dozen sharpies, turned some Mia Dyson record on and started towards the wall, with her right hand loaded. I knew better than to mess with her routine and went for a look around the rest of the house. Twenty minutes later I returned to the room. Words. Words all over the wall, like some page from a bible in a 8 pitch roman font.
‘Turn the handle start the pump, blow your mind with pinstripes, Take a leap run a mile see you on the other side, pull the cord make it fit, wear a belt no slip, spin the wheel jot it down, make it up, fill your cup..”
https://youtu.be/lJY3VMUa8cI
Conceived many years ago, knocked into shape in Autumn 2017
Tracklist
| 1. | Cocaine Jane | 4:16 |
Lyrics
Turn the handle start the pump, Blow your mind with pinstripes Take a leap run a mile see you on the other side
pull the cord make it fit, wear a belt no slip spin the wheel jot it down, make it up fill your cup
Lay down get slayed stay in line get paid, take a dive for the cash no water no splash
fall in love cocaine, making love with Jane, winter comes have faith, leaves fall use a rake
Hold the man get a free, instant winner lottery, chew gum make a fist, be a mad scientist
Tighten up your big mouth, buy a ticket go south, Steal a rose, Fill a vase, wait a bit, then propose.
chill pills, deep breaths, yoga moves do your best, climb a hill take the view, keep your breath in front of you
Ride your bike at top speed, lay awake cos of greed, Sign upon the dotted line, learn to live with the lie
listen to the morning sun, make a call to the one, see you at the back gate waiting for old mate
make a wish bake a cake organize and demonstrate, as the night takes off my bitch pulls her lead off
cheap eats no sleep, brady bunch repeats, thinking of an old ghost Mothers day sunday roast
Wicker baskets porcelain wet umbrellas stop the rain, three cheers for the sun, Hands up drop that gun
nine foot malibu, morning glass just you, blind date lame duck, weather changes so do you
Make it up, write it down, bad dream blank it out, tell stories beat a drum, do the job get it done.
Write a book, write a poem, make a booking stay in Rome, infiltrate a rival gang, Write with a fountain pen
Pick the lock, pick the fruit, can't stray from your roots, wear a watch to interviews cocaine in the afternoons
Credits
Produced by Cam Jones and Anthony Kost. Mixed and Mastered by Cam Jones. Guitars Kost, Bass Scott Thornburn, Drums Jones, Cajon Clancy Kost, Vox Kost, Backing Vox Clancy Kost
