Testosterone in aircon shells,
Pulsating blood and casting spells
On gentle folk of kindly deed,
Made monsters by their metal steed.
Four-wheel drives that don't know dirt
Weaved by compensating squirts;
Pseudo-manhood; "turbo" chaps,
Clutching phones from baseball caps.

(Now) push and prise your bumper in:
One more car length's how you win;
Speed's not the priority,
'S long as you're in front of me.

Join the daily waste of time,
Scowling at the roadworks sign.
(But) dream of open road sublime
And tear along the dotted line.

Waltz around the road debris,
Jetsam of some SUV.
Pay no heed the lights are red,
Fuel-injected empty head.
Turning lights are optional;
Means your bumpers are too small.
Highway rules are put to bed;
Only necks here are well red.

(Now) push and prise your bumper in:
One more car length's how you win;
Speed's not the priority,
'S long as you're in front of me.

by DARIO FRIGO

Don't come back to me (4x)

You betrayed me
You lied to me
So selfishly
So childishly

Don't come back to me
Don't come back to me
No, you treated me unfair
Don't come back to me 
Don't come back to me
Go to hell, for all I care

And when you show your face
I'll make you cry (2x)
I'll bloody damn well make you cry
I'll make you cry 
Make you cry (2x)

Don't come back to me (4x)

You deceived me
You betrayed me
So greedily
So distastefully

Don't come back to me
Don't come back to me 
Go to hell for all I care
Don't come back to me
Don't come back to me
No, not even if you dare

The falling sheets pull patterns on the murky grey,
Ignored by plastic people as they splash their way.
As droplets slalom slowly down the window pane,
And fuse like mad amoebae. How I hate the rain!

It rained the night that hopeful lovers first made free,
And bodies thrashed on linen, it seemed, endlessly.
The lightning; sole reminder dawn would come again
And break the spell of darkness. How I hate the rain.

But heaven's dew is transient, so dare not wait
For tenderness and passion to evaporate;
Another aeon passes, but the hope's in vain
That this time it is real. Oh! How I hate the rain.

The falling sheets pull patterns on the murky grey,
Ignored by plastic people as they splash their way.
The storm within the heart, how long will that remain?
I'm sure a damn'd sight longer than this awful rain.

by DARIO FRIGO

There's work to do!
There's work to do!

My darling, I can see your fight
So convinced that you are right
Fast to attack, others to blame
For your feelings of guilt or shame
Unaware of this endless love
You still believe there's not enough

So ask, my darling:
Is it true?
Is it true?
Is it true?

Yes, people really spend their time
Designing all the story-lines
Entangled by the endless themes
Dictated by their selfish memes
If only they would stop and see
The questions that will set them free

So ask, my darling:
Is it true?
Is it true?
Is it true?

There's work to do!
There's work to do!

Finally you've suffered enough
To open up to this innate love
And in joy we shall inquire
Ask the questions that are required
Together we shall do this work
Together we shall do the work

So ask, my darling:
Is it true?
Is it true?
Is it true?