Author Archives: cchua

Jenny was a busker in her day
She made $100 a day
Most people ignored her
But she was happy to play
And her friends said
Hey Jenny you’ll be a star

Jenny went on a talent show
With a song about her dying bro
She won herself a recording prize
As her star rose
Her manager said
Hey Jenny you’ll be a star

Jenny had a hit and the stadiums paid
She cleared $100 a day
Most people ignored her
Until the single was played
And the fans wrote
Oh Jenny you are a star

Jenny was rushed in the studio
Pop song she did not know
Sales dropped while debts did climb
Internet blow by blow
And the critics said
Jenny
One star

Jenny’s brother passed on Christmas eve
She sang his song at the eulogy
And pulled a tear from every eye
Grief set her free
And Jenny said my brother you are a star

Five years later Jenny did go
Become a judge on a talent show
Fresh young things oversang
The song about her bro
Jenny said we are planets
We are not stars

Jenny is a busker to this day
She makes $100 a day
Most people ignore her
But she is happy to play
And the people say
Hey Jenny aren’t you that star

I am one in a million!
I am one in a million!
There’s four more like me
Just in Melbourne
I know cos I compete against them
They are one in a million!
They are one in a million!
They know it and act accordingly
I sit here alone in my tree
I’m an emerging veteran
I’m an emerging veteran
And there’s four more like me
Just in Melbourne
When will I have success?
When will I have success?
When am I gonna be my best?
I might kill myself
I might kill myself
Cos I feel like it could be a good media angle
I won’t read into it
I’ll just fake my suicide
And wait till everybody comes to the funeral
And I’ll burst out of the coffin and do a great gig
And everybody will say oh my god!
Where can I get a copy of your album?
Sure maybe my loved ones will be upset
But people buy more
When they’re emotionally vulnerable
And I’ll scream
I am one in a million!
I am one in a million!
And there’s four more like me
Just in Melbourne
I know cos I compete against them
I’m friends with them on Facebook
Even though we’re not really friends
Oh I wish I was six again
Everything was so much simpler
I didn’t obsess about who got all the sandwiches
What am I saying I’ve been competing my whole life
I’m sure I was one very jealous sperm
Who said to all the other sperm
Don’t even think about it
I’m just a man who wants to get his egg
Oh come on
I’m just a man who’s used to getting his egg
I’m just a man who’s used to getting his egg
Impregnating his mother
And giving birth to himself

Ian Thorpe was bored
Of all the winning
When he was swimming
Here I am now he said
Entertain me!
They tried everything
From the underwater TV
Following him with Buffy
To the specially ordered inflatable version
Of Lord Of The Rings
For him to read
While he did the backstroke
But nothing could put
The fire in his belly
Not even training in port wine jelly
Nothing could remove the frown
Not even the deep sea clown
Ian climbed out of the pool
Still in his speedos
And wandered the streets
Searching for meaning
In a world
That just kept on tumble turning
They thought he was one of the homeless
They put size nineteen shoes on his feet
They gave him a blanket
And something to eat
He was a little unsure
A little bit edgy
Like the time Alexander Popov
Gave him a wedgie
How do you console a man
Worth his weight in gold medals?
Like Isaac Newton’s apple
Hit him on the head
One morning Ian fell out of bed
He took off his swimming cap
And put on his thinking cap
Enough of this tomfoolery
I want to design men’s jewelry
He took all his medals
Down to cash converters
He wrote his coach a note
He didn’t want to hurt her
For Ian had a plan
He’d always known he was big in Japan
They gave him a mansion
They gave him his own show
They gave him his own pool
He didn’t want to swim
He just wanted to float
In it
He just wanted to float
Come on boys and girls
It’s time to tune in!
To Australian Ian Thorpe’s
World of pretty things
Ian’s head was swimming
Now this was really living

I hate myself
But if you spent this much time
With the same person
You would too

I berate myself
Punishing myself for mistakes
I know I couldn’t help
If I keep myself small
The bullies can’t see me

I segregate myself
I don’t let the black and white feelings
Sit together on my bus
Sweet childhood me
And the adult worker bee
Have so much in common
If I’d just let em be

I inflate myself
Puff up my ego
Like some
Rainforest courting bird
Yeah I’m better than you all
Just don’t get too close
The costume might fall

I bait myself
Mean little mind games
To get results

What if it fails
Let’s leave it till later
Oh god I’m so guilty
Ah fuck it here I come

There’s plenty more fish in the sea
But none quite like me
None quite like me
I break my bones
And let a wish go free
Sticks and stones
Weird fishy

I hate myself
For the fact it is the hardest
Thing I could do to say
I love myself

Just because you buy chicken
Doesn’t mean you reject fish
I’m a fish giving you the fish finger
I’m a selfish shellfish
With a short shelf life
After three days
I’ll start to stink
Oh such a stink

It’s not like you can give off fish to the chickens
Cos they’ve already been eaten themselves
And gone to a higher animal place
I want to go to a higher animal place

I’m in this super market limbo
Using super market lingo
Not so special
I’m on special
But no one’s taken me home
To be consumed

I became an artist to try and heal the rift in my chest
It fuels the art that I beat myself up for cos it’s not my best
I share my art with the public I am reinstalled with praise
Compliments are cut down by one criticism hangin round for days

Art makes me whole so I can break apart

I became professional so I could fill myself up with pride
The higher up the ladder the more I saw there was nowhere to hide
Yeah for a while I was comfortable but that felt kinda weird so I got scared
Rejected myself in advance well they say it is good to be prepared.

Art makes me whole so I can break apart

I’m Selling Myself

I’m selling myself like I am a bottle of milk
I’m milking myself like I’m a cash cow
Forced to self-farm when its owner lost interest
All milk looks the same so I’ve got to think about labelling
Super dupe milk yeah it’s you beaut
It’s got a pretty blue picture of a little girl crying

Don’t cry over skim milk
I spilt a glass of myself all over the keyboard
And now the I is stuck
I I I I I I I I I I I I

I’m shelling myself like I am a hermit crab
I’m painting the shell and selling it to the girl
Who sells the shells on the seashore black market
Now I’m a slug all dry and encrusted with sand
Shelter I seek inside a coke can
Now I’m being paid for unique branded content

Don’t cry over skim milk
The milk of human cowness is all over the keyboard
Now the M and the O are stuck
MOOOO
OMMMM

I’m selling myself like I am a used car salesman
More hits than Elvis
There’s miles on the speedo
I’m wearing speedos
Oh god someone help me
Interview miss universe anxiety dream
I tell all the girls how I’d change the world
Ya de ya handjobs
Please buy my album

Don’t lie over middle class guilt
I write in the third person
And second guess the first one
And write till there’s no one left