More Songs from an Island

by Adam & the fish eyed poets

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price


03:03 video
02:33 video


Two terrible human beings find themselves stuck
in an arranged marriage. Nothing really happens. So it goes.

for lyrics and track art click on the track links.

album download includes track art and a lyrics pdf.

debit card users buy at-


released September 18, 2015

art by Hari Kumar Nair

youtube -



all rights reserved


Adam & the fish eyed poets Chennai, India

Adam & the fish eyed poets is the recording project of chennai based singer/songwriter Kishore Krishna

contact / help

Contact Adam & the fish eyed poets

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: I am worn
I am worn by the objects that surround me.
Flamingo girls with their arcs and curls.
Broad shouldered bears, tables and chairs.
Skipping about on hallowed ground, with fire in their hair.
Dancing in slow motion, pheromones in the slipstream.
Skipping about on hallowed ground, but see if I care.

I am wasted on the young, so full of sh…
Faded around the edges.
Godspeed a swallow to pop the lid.

I really shouldn't be so hard on myself.
I really shouldn’t be so…

But the old fashioned girl with the chicka chicka chinese eyes,
that wrinkle round the corners, when she's trying to hide a smile.
She just wants a man, she wants a cat.
She wants a man that thinks and makes shapes like a cat.
A brand new car, an inflatable hat rack.
5 pounds lost and a Birkin bag.
Whiter teeth, maybe better breeding,
and a body pillow that can return her feelings.
Toothpaste that tastes like rain,
and a father figure to make it all OK.
But I’m certain that she'd settle for a little
eye contact, to save her day.

So I’ll walk up to her spot on the wall,
ignore her and walk away.
(Pinkman: s’right bitch)
Walk right up to her spot on the wall,
and put her in her place.
(Mr.Burns: Excellent)

But I am worn.
And I just wanna go home.

Home. Oh take me home.
My little piece of New York, on the 21st floor.
My faux shark skin slippers,
my faux Hugh Hefner robe,
92 Chivas and Idduki gold.
Little housebroken wife,
swimmin’ in her iPhone.
Reading Osho on the interweb
to better decorate her soul.

Oh home.
(Please don't take me home)

But no...
not tonight...
get over here.
Chinese eyes.
Track Name: Wormwood eyes
… And the hardest of all,
is to watch you turn to be defiled my love.
High drama baby, with the weight of the world,
streaming down your face,
and you fall like wormwood,
pixelated, upon your stage.

I’m sure you've got someone to keep your self esteem afloat,
with all the right lies and gestures, to keep a golden goose from choking,
or maybe you're alone and broken and slotted in to some safe cliche,
but I can't get through the week,
without your shame to comfort me,
I don't know you and I can't hurt you
(but) this is love ..
As pure…
As I…

I see poison swell in your throat.
(hold it in to cleanse us of our sins)
Down the hatch, past the holy ghost.
(hold it in to cleanse us of our…)

And you raise the dead, bite your lips, and they'll turn their heads.
You raise the dead, a simple twitch to kill suspicion.
You part the heavens baby, when you pull that trick, when you unravel.
But I can last through it all…

For the shadow between,
the urge and release,
is thick and bitter.
Death for hollow beasts.
Sick from the start,
just animals with credit cards.
Herded in by scum like you.
Cleaved and butchered by scum like me.

5 minutes from now, I won't feel a thing.
I’ll be vacant, washing my legs.
You'll be somewhere,
cashing another check.

5 minutes from now, I won’t feel a thing.
5 minutes from now…

You still raise the dead, but your skin's so tight, and your eyes are yellow.
You raise the dead, but your famous twitch can't hide its shadow.
All your tricks are stained with the sticky juice of desperation.
Where's your daddy now?

Wipe up and go to bed,
there are bills to pay before you’re dead.
Wipe up and go to bed,
there are bills to pay before you’re dead.
Wipe up and go to bed,
there are dues to pay before you’re dead.
Wipe up and go to bed,
there are dues to pay before you’re dead.
Track Name: Tangle untangle
(you) Pretty little angels hit hardest,
when there ain’t no time to think at all.
And it hurts so…
When you wear your hair up…

So tell me about your day, but don't tell me about last night.
Your mouth keeps jabbering away, but I don't hear a…


(yeah, tell me all u know about heart ache)
(but don't make a sound)

Tell me all you know about…

You Pretty little angels are sure something.
All menthol breath and raccoon eyes.
But you break so…

Oh she's bored again. Flips her hair and I'm hers again.
And I know, I’ll be sore again, but it's been so long, I can't complain.
So tangle and untangle, what no one knows won't hurt a soul.
And I’ll hate you when I’m alone again…
But you save your spite for someone else,
some cow-eyed schmuck that's swinging on your gibbet.

But I wanna know, I wanna know.
What you're like when you're not cleaning out your gutters.
And I wanna see, what you're like,
without the guilt and the vengeance, pulling at your tether.
And I wanna hear, I wanna hear,
you say you'll love him forever with your fingers crossed.
Oh and I wanna see, the look on your face,
when you ain't half started but he's cleaning up, cleaning up.
Track Name: Days like clouds
And days… Pass like clouds,
in countless shapes and colours, but no weight or sound.
And I trace my steps,
back to the place, where we first met.
Try to find a feeling, but I can't force myself.

And days, turn to sallow nights.
Raging cows and traffic, burning holes in my eyes.
And a bum starves to death on the other side of the street.
Pretty girls all made of glass, drop shopping bags
right in front of me.
I can stop and stare, but I won't feel a thing.

And days ooh.
And days ooh.
Child, I’m afraid it’s all slipping away now.

(Dialogue from Notorious - Hitchcock ,1946.)
Cary Grant: I can’t help recalling some of your remarks, about being a new woman. Daisies and buttercups, wasn’t it?
Ingrid Bergman: Oh you idiot! What are you sore about? You knew very well what I was doing.
CG: Did I?
IB: You could have stopped me with one word, but you didn’t… Didn’t you tell me to go ahead?
CG: A man doesn’t tell a woman what to do, she tells her self… You almost had me believing in that hokey pokey miracle of yours, like a woman like you could ever change her spots.
IB: Oh you’re rotten!
CG: That's why I didn’t try to stop you.
IB: Oh you never believed in me anyway. So what’s the difference?
CG:Lucky for the both of us I didn’t. It wouldn’t have been pretty if I’d believed in you. If I’d figured, she’d never be able to go through with it. She’s been made over by love …
IB: I hate you …
CG: There’s no occasion to you’re doing good work, just keep on your toes, there’s a tough jump around…
IB: Is that all you have to say to me?
CG: Dry your eyes baby, it’s out of character.

And days…
And days…

Days don't weigh more than
the thoughts can’t be placed oh.
And I can't be weighed against,
the weight of what few days remain.
Track Name: Barbed wire cocoon
Screwed ain't the word for the way that I feel.
Its just mercenary, mercenary and so viciously conceived.
It’s delicately poised, smoke and mirrors swelling into noise.
And I’ve no choice , I’ve been marooned in this barbed wire cocoon.

What's a po’ boy to do?

Screwed ain't the word for the way that I feel.
She's intractable, unrelenting, so viciously concealed.
All she ever says to me, is that her silence has been paid for,
by some dowry that I haven't seen, and certainly didn't ask for.
(She) ‘Says her father’s now a broken man, and I won't be dealt a better hand.
But I’m not sure what that means, so we'll just wait it out, in this all consuming silence.

In the barbed wire cocoon.

What's a po’ boy to do?

The novelty has faded.My conscience will be sated
I’m a man, and I am not afraid to take what is owed.
My conscience will be sated. The novelty has faded.
I’m a man, and I am not afraid to take what is owed.
So don't make me take you, love.
Like a hound takes a bitch.
Don’t make me…
Track Name: This week's calling
Oh no, what a hideous mess.
Dreams of decadence,
and unmade beds oh.
It’s all explained by
a stolen youth.
No chance to bloom.
Or to be rescued by…

Sex… And dancing,
or good old fashioned
conventional romance, oh baby

Can't afford to wait while the leaves are falling
…(gotta) Slide into this weeks calling.
Can't afford to idle while the leaves are falling
… Slide into this week's…This week’s…

Weak kneed,
attempts at charity.
Helping animals
to suppress a craving for meat.
But what about the coming week?
Gotta think of something.
Gotta think of something quick.

’Cos the race for fulfillment,
won't wait around for me, no…
How I wish I was some soccer mom.
Bound by security.

Can't afford to wait while the leaves are falling
…Slide into this weeks calling
Can't afford to idle while the leaves are falling
…Slide into this week's…This week’s…

Oh I can see it now. A bug eyed photograph,
some pity, and some laughs oh.
Half a sigh for half a person,
with no legacy.
How I wish I’d got a job.

Oh no,
shriveled and spent.
Almost dead,
and drowned in envy.
To envy the homeless.
To envy the help.
Wandering fools,
and unattractive girls
that can choose...
Track Name: Charlie sheen
In a world with more numbers than words.
Ain’t no time for no contemplating.
Battle lines are drawn in black and white.
But these rites of passage ain't the be all and end all no...

I’ve got a suicide note ready,
just in case I fall asleep.
I’ve got a noose in the cupboard.
But won’t you hold on… hold on… hold on…hold on… I’ve had this thought before.

I don't fit no demographic.
And I’ve got the scars to prove it.
So I miss out on all the Instagram sex and dancing,
that indian advertising figured out, figured out.

And there it is. The breach in the dam.
Against the will of the universe, all huffing and puffing.
And my straw house resolve is just a memory,
but there's no charity around here, just more walls and slime.

But oh... There's a house by a beach somewhere.
That smells like rain, and a girl...
Shaped like Ashlynn Brooke, but with eyes like Ashlyn Rae.
And I will claim every ounce of the silence,
that comes with beach front real estate.
‘Cos I wanna be Charlie Sheen…
Winning, with Alexis and Bree.
And I won't be spent being bent to fit the state endorsed ideal life…
State endorsed ideal life.
But won’t you hold on... hold on... hold on... hold on...
I’ve had this thought before.

And ooh ooh ooh,
here comes a feeling.
SNUFF IT OUT… You’ve gotta break it's little neck.
but ooh ooh ooh… Its just a little feeling,
SNUFF IT OUT... There’s no time to be affected.
And oh oh oh you can't
afford to stop moving.
Stay close to the shoal,
‘cos you ain't as good as the rest.
As good as the rest , good as the rest.
And you know it...

Compensate, compensate,
till you've been assimilated.
Compensate, compensate,
till you've been assimilated.
Track Name: Medea
By the waves of the open ocean.
And by the stars that now contain your soul.
I swear, all is forgiven.
All grudges drowned and forgotten,
beneath the waves.

And I’ll shiver,
wail and deny for you.
Till the rest of the eyes have left my shoulders.

Oh cowards don't sleep well.
No, cowards don't sleep at all.
A coward earns what a coward deserves.
But I know, I don't deserve to feel so small.

A door opens and a sliver of light,
carves the night in half, and renders me petrified.
And a ghost, all silver and cold,
with a knife and fork, she picks her portions.

But no… I can't be sure,
if I’m just fishing for a cure,
or some resolution fantasy to justify the pity.
But was that you? With the sickle and the flies?
You that sucked the levity right out of my life?
Oh was that you? Or was that a dream?
Or was I… Just written… To suffer… For the eyes… That read?

Oh Medea I’ve not forgotten.
Oh Medea will I be forgiven?
Oh Medea I’ve not forgotten.
Oh Medea will I be forgiven?
Track Name: Wet feet
I was told, when I was young.
Don't dip your feet, where the waters run,
run too dark, and run too deep.
For that's where the devil
… Does madness keep.
But this night is still…
And my moon is weak.
So in his warm mouth,
I will dip my feet.

(What could’ve possessed that girl?… SATAN)

Nothing can hurt me.
Nothing can hurt me now.
Track Name: Gentle into the night
Baby, don't you know that I want you...
Don't you know that I’ve needed you so,
but I just feel like I don't owe you.
Any more.

So won’t you kill me now,
before your candle lit charade,
shackles up nerve again,
and sinks its teeth into my brain.
Would it kill you to bat an eyelid?
‘Cos it kills me to admit,
that I’m a shrunken little coward,
and you're a conceited little bitch.

You're just sitting there colder than your china.
I’m just sitting here trapped underwater.
Crying out to heaven, for a shock of lightning.
I'm waiting to surrender, but you're waiting for the rapture.

And it simmers, from a whisper to a scream.
What use is an apology? When there ain’t no time for a reprieve.
The clock hand lumbers up closer to midnight,
but there's no sign of no Jesus shaped light.

And suddenly, I find my lungs are seizing.
Foamin up in the mouth, and my heart stops beating.
And I realize that you're not reacting.
But a tear breaks free, when you reach for the greens.

(And it’s not easy, when you’re on the wrong side of the glass.)
Track Name: We could be friends
I wish I was content with the oh so pretty trappings of your company.
And I know your soul has descended from some better place,
to purify the likes of me.
And I assure you, your breath smells fine.
It’s just that I’ve got an urge to stick a knife in your eye.

And baby I’m sure, we could've been friends.
If I wasn't me, and you were someone else.
Yeah baby I’m sure, we could've been friends.
If I wasn't me, and you didn’t pretend.

And our game, though highly amusing.
Was built on a lie that's grown into an elephant.
It’s filling up the room, and it’s blockin’ all the air vents.
It’s shittin’ on the rug, and I’m running out of oxygen.

So I’ll spare you the suspense, and spell it out uncondensed.

I fucking hate you
I fucking hate you.
I hope you choke.
I hope you choke.

And baby I’m sure, we could've been friends.
If I wasn't me, and you were someone else.
And baby I’m sure, we could've been friends
If I wasn't me, and you didn’t pretend.

I hope you choke.
Track Name: Driving Japanese
And finally.
Headlamps like Grace Kelly.
Understated door handles. All class, no fuss.
Something in me stirs, when my skin hits the leather,
and your aluminum heart, whittles and purrs.
My little temple on wheels.
Ain’t no better place to be...No...

Chrome wheels, electric seats.
Move over Korea, I’m driving Japanese.
Chrome wheels, electric seats.
Move over Korea, I’m driving Japanese,
don't you know?

So long… I’m Han Solo.
(Straight up. Kick into light speed.)

Yeah, I’m a burning streak of white metallic,
Slicing up the black and orange nothing.

But oh... It’s still too slow.
And the night always seems to quit before
I get to where I need to go.

2 am.
Drive down marina.
Stop for the cops,
just to share the smell.
I’ve got a baggie on the dash,
but they know better than to mess with
an Arrow shirt and a 'stache.

“Move along sir, we don't mean to waste your time."

S’right son, don't you waste my time.

“Move along sir, we don't mean to waste your time."

S’right bitch. You don’t get to fuck with this.

Roll up the windows.
Roll the windows up.
Daddy said, daddy said,
Roll the windows up.
Hard work can change your fate,
but it does nothing about the smell.

So long. I’m Han Solo.
(Straight up. Kick it into light speed.)

There ain't a feeling in the world, that can catch me now.
Outrage, outrage, I’ll deal with you on Monday.
but today, I’ve got a date with a rabbit,
that needs running over, somewhere over,
that cellophane sunrise.
Die little rabbit.
Track Name: Ordinary living
Breakfast sure means a lot to me.
It’s the last time of the day, I’ll feel good about what's in front of me.

There’s not a lot to know,
not a lot to say.
Not a lot to do.
Just shoot one in the shower and let time bombs tick-tick away.

And sure I get my way, almost always.
As long as it sways to the swinging tune,
and the thumping boom,
of the divide and rule,
masters of commerce and the universe too,
that syndicate all your opinions for you.
Oh clown prince and lapdog party,
I salute you.

‘Cos you've taken your cut, and allowed me my little patch of heaven.
But this state endorsed ideal life ain't all that forgiving.

‘Cos ordinary living,
ain't hard to do.
But ordinary living, is sure hard on you.

And I’ll have a coffee at 4, and I'll deconstruct the drapes.
As you pull new rabbits out of the middle distance,
and pickle them to fill the space.
Surely, I should covet the neighbour's wife, and I would.
But she's a smelly Gujarati with a Pomeranian and a lisp.

So I’ve spent another turn.
Your degree in psychology, was spent as it was earned oh.
And I still want to eat your pretty face,
but baby, something's changed.
There’s a trail of dribble, down the corner of your mouth,
and I know now, there ain't nothing more to talk about.

'Cos ordinary living ain't hard to do.
Yeah ordinary living, just like you wanted when you were 22.
And ordinary living, is as good as it gets for the likes of me and you.
And ordinary living. Is all that's left to do.

I can hear you laughing,
from all of those many years ago.
But this used muse, cracked pigeon shit statue ruse
is scaring me. Ain’t it scaring you? huh?

I don't wanna be so close to something,
just to have it shrivel up in the palm of my hand.

And poor old Virginia Woolf, hangs upside down, bemused by the view.
‘Cos all the secret smiles,
that dance behind your eyes,
have finally
rescued you from it all.
Track Name: Sari folds
To touch is to believe.
To love is to suffer.
To live is to be aware,
of all we suffer for.
And as my heart, skips between
sari folds so unclean.
I can only dream
of all the sacred things
they conceal.

(and) When she cleans the windows,
makes a silhouette in the sunlight.
Unaware and unconcerned
with this old fool's longing eye.
If only she didn't understand,
the ugliness that stands
between a fool so far removed,
and something… Oh…
So beautiful.

And when she's alone at night.
Drunken husband between her thighs.
I’ll be strong for her,
stronger than I ever was...
For I.