Cool Songs

...in the 1970's,mum taught me about the boogey man,that hung out at toilets.Back then,alot of children went missing,never to be seen again.Don't know if it was a psychopath,white slavery,re-adoptive sellers,or
much worse.I went to de la salle College Kingsgrove for two years (horrible time,but discovered The Sex Pistols written on the toilet doors ).Got out late,lost my bus-pass and missed the 492 bus.I went back to school,with tears in my eyes,and bludged 25 cents off the staff to get home.I caught a 465,that terminated at Campsie Station,had to walk 2-3 k's home,but got to need a pee...
I went up Station Street?,where the cop station is...there was the public toilets...and a red phone box,like the old Tardis,in DR Who.I went to go on,seen the filth and smut on the walls,about meeting Jeff...and his big donga..."The Fear" ,got me,went back out,and peed myself,even filling my shoes,wearing trousers which funnelled them into.It was just getting over winter...the sun was low and not hot enough.
...I tried using the red phone box,but called the wrong operator,I dialed 000...the emergency line.I went in to the cop shop,no-one at the counter to serve me,walked back out and tied a jumper around my waist,like a chefs apron.
...Two hours past,I hopped back on the 494,back down Brighton ave,hopped off the bus,there was the sky blue HR Wagon,waiting for me...I went to wave dad...and seen the eyes on him...I'm dead I thought.Opened the door,went to say what happened"Shut Up",and a back handed hit,spraying spittle and small stain of blood,he split my lip from inside.I was shitting as we pulled into Adam St,17...where we lived.
He drags me into the house,he's dressed in his Gaol Warden uniform...I'm screaming"Mum,Mum,help me..." as she sat there helpless,he ripped off his belt,2 inches wide this thing,and from my neck to my ankles,he whipped me...I had tiger stripe bruised welts half inch high,from neck to ankles,could'nt bend for weeks...

it was the first time my mother admitted he did the wrong thing and went to far...10 years later,he took me at almost gun-point,to the Army Reserves...to make a man out of me...a year later was the last time he hit my mother or me...I had a gun to his head...I did'nt shoot,but stopped short,of stoving his skull in with the butt of the rifle....

My satanic buddies seen it in a dream one night,pretended to sympathise...and made me relive it...over and over...I'm OK now,I still have that belt to,it's missing it's buckle,and grey and mouldy,but keep it as a momento,as one of the worst experiences as a kid...