DEAN OMORIHumanitarian By Instinct

Last Artist Died Today

So I deleted my first album Ten War Songs as it no longer felt relevant. Last Artist Died Today was a new beginning. Then I was pushed into the noise of the world by winning the best song and film award from the WWF for ‘How Can You Sleep.’
These songs have a simple beauty to them and it was here on this album that my music began to speak for me.

Written, performed and produced by me.

Click Apple Music or Spotify to stream it.

Released 2009

Track Listing

All We Are Is Memory

She pressed her body into mine
She said this is what god feels like
And on my body she kissed the burs
Opened my mouth to speak and she covered it with hers

All we are is memory all we have is time
All we are is memory all we have is time

Who owns this place whose in disguise
The shareholders own the news and their followers own the lies
All of my life I’ve been the one who’s weak
As I stand before you now let the condemned man speak

All we are is memory all we have is time
All we are is memory all we have is time

Ave Maria sing to me
I stole the silence and we’ll always be free
And we must not let the art of protest die
This world let me live my passions makes me cry

All we are is memory all we have is time
All we are is memory all we have is time


Jesus On His Knees

Who answered the door
Who saw the news
Who’d you tell
Who played the blues
Who came home broken
Who forgot to say please
Who gave me my first fist of love
Jesus on his knees

Who went to work this morning
Who is feeling small
Who bought a new car
Who watched the towers fall
Who lit a candle
Who cut the wood
Who stood on my toe
Prophet be good

Who is going hungry
Who wrote that book
Who is a little different
Whose turn is it to cook
Who got cause for blame
Who got the new phone
Blood running down my face
Jesus please come home

Who thought about suicide
Who scrumped the money tree
Who gave up smiling
Who thinks they’re free
Who believes in something
Who has enough
Whose a mean kid at school
Prophet made of love

Whose feeling angry
Whose drinking milk
Whose making love outside
And whose sharing guilt
Whose wearing elephant
Who raped the tease
Whose got anything to declare
Jesus on his knees

Who wishes they were me
I know I do
Give me something to think
Who has nothing to lose
Whose left to change the world
Who thinks they should
Whose grinding coffee
Prophet be good

Whose got it registered
Who is taking this down
Whose building monoliths
Whose got a plan
Whose got courage left
Whose lost whose found
Whose marketing make believe
Jesus going down

Whose being circumcised
Whose going to war
Whose got less
And whose got more
Whose got hopes alive
And whose afraid
Whose allowed a voice
Who prophets from the energy of slaves

Whose to know
And whose to die
Whose to question
Whose to cry
Whose got money
Whose got the rope
I’m just finding my peace
God help me to cope

Whose been crucial
Whose criticized
Who told the truth
Who went and lied
Who gave me a bed to lie in
When I was in need
Get me on the internet
God help me believe


How Can You Sleep

I spoke for the world and they denied me
But they discussed the curl of my hair
He who saved the great lakes died of cancer
And I don’t suppose justice has ever been fair
The last thing we love is the first thing we kill
The snow once fell clean and purled
She said make love to me like you mean it
Before you take us all to the end of the world

How can you sleep
How can you sleep
How can you sleep

In a place I found a great beauty
Where they built the things nobody needs
They stole it until there was nothing
I am the poet and I speak for the trees
And I once gave my children a rainbow
They were blind to it looking for gold
We once thought those big bombs would kill us
Man you keep taking us to the end of the world

How can you sleep
How can you sleep
How can you sleep

We’re guilty in our own self-importance
They got theirs she got hers he got his
Seas will rise mountains will roar
Trees shall fall that have stood a thousand years
As the last witness is silenced
Our destiny DNA is uncurled
We’ll drag everything down with us when we go
You keep taking us to the end of the world

How can you sleep
How can you sleep
How can you sleep



Plastic bag can kill a cow
And it’s in the field and it’s in it’s mouth
The decomposed body leaves behind a perfect plastic bag
And the nappies last four hundred years
Gotta get it clean commercialism fears
Make more free time to watch governments lie to you

And the futures not that far ahead
Human race lost everything dead
One damn good rain and it’ll kill the whole bloody lot of us
The couldn’t care less takes its toll
There’s all kinds of justice in this world
One for the money everything else for the show

And next to us god is poor
Life don’t you love us anymore
You know another word for squaw

The rains come and wash the pollution away
But you’ll be drinking it some other day
We show little respect for life love and home
And we take what ever we please
The known world is down on its knees
And worried about the price of oil as you drive home

So who’s the pig and whose’s the frog
The more people I meet the more I love my dog
We’ve simplified life until it doesn’t exist
Take the last bit of land that’s left
And flog it to a supermarket’s best
They’ll sit on it till they get their permission to screw you


Following Men

The first time ever I saw a man
Had his hands down her knickers trying to buy up her land
He sucked out her soul and she sucked out his heart
They left together and made love in the park
The second time we met he was the father of three
Built a temple on the land that he thieved
They butchered the weak and exhibitioned the fool
Top of the food chain needs religious rule
Somebody said he looked a lot like me
Why do we take these chains when we’re free
The next time we met he was the king of the world
And he fashioned everybody with the stories he told
The followers cried for the belief that they need
But you frighten us most in what you’re willing to believe

But they get you to follow
Follow them to the end
But there’s no future
Following men

We’re a plague of human infected rich and poor
With righteous fits of ethics you broke all natural law
She got nine different children from ten different men
Three dogs and a cat in a tower block UNICEF condemned
Now government prop up what nature deselects
They shore up peoples use and then they shore up the effects
The womb is on the up shift based on biblical law
Half the world is hungry and most the world is poor
The unwanted people making left over kids
Rich infertile parents putting in child auction bids
There’s a plague of madness coming in it we fall
Evolution will be the death of us all
I hear Charles Darwin coughing on the origins of love
Have the laws of attraction have been screwed with enough

The next man I met was like a beast drinking blood
He said deaf girls make the best noise making love
He started up a business where nobody should
He said even when they smell bad women smell good
And he pillaged and punished and exploited the girl
And by the time he had finished he’d exploited the world
Now what men want is with what they’re endowed
What women usually get is what men have allowed
And when he’d finished with the women he turned to their little ones
Touched their bodies till the fortune of life was gone
A billion unwanted children cry another day
Got no sense of repercussion as we breed ourselves away
Life on this planet is soaked in man-made curse
Everything gets it but some people get it worse

The next man I met wore military might
He earned respect from his people for the reasons we fight
In bayonets and bullets, in swords and in bombs
They made another generation of mothers with dead sons
From the fields come women crawling in blood
Their babies all slaughtered in his pogrom to love
From the terraces to car-parks to the merchants of wars
We don’t register our weakness we don’t register our flaws
We’re rudimentary vein self-conscious and all alone
We’re the only animal evolved enough to kill its own
The last man standing was not the luckiest alive
They say the luckiest man was the first one to die
He didn’t have to witness the abomination of men
He didn’t have to witness what we go through to get to the end

The last man I met had designed human fate
He left it to the rest of us and we all left it too late
The dynasty of man is but the blink of an eye
We ruled the world for such a short time
Life unsustainable in times of flood and thirst
But politics always speaks for money first
First we invented the wheel then the fishermen’s rod
We invented fire and progress and we invented god
Now we’re evolving the computer stabilising our mood
Learning how to survive and live on suicide food
Waiting for a hand out waiting for a home
Waiting on the lottery or just waiting to get stoned
Waiting with my prejudice and someone else’s wife
Turn on the TV to witness horrible people made out of life


Beautiful World

Can we make love
Can we wake
Can we dance around the lake
Can this beautiful life not be filled with mistake
Can the people who put bullets in us come take them away

Can I be what I lack
Can we bring the gypsy’s back
Can I kiss the day from the soul of Iraq
Can we see the sun rise on this great big beautiful world

Can I resign my fate
Can it not be too late
Can we make a baby not made in hate
Oh beautiful world help me share my heart

Put the war away boys
It’s a beautiful world

Can we share the night
Can we watch the tide
Can we find our dead were really alive
Can there be peace on earth in this big beautiful world

I see friends of mine
Cross the line
But can we work together one last time
Can you see from the corners of the world I’m a lot like you

Can you stop the war
Can’t fight anymore
Can we be the people we were before
Before the fight in this great big beautiful world

Let me paint with life
Let me bury the knife
Let me go let me be I know I’m alive
When you spill my body it’s the same colour as you


Life of a Poet

There’s peace on earth I hope that it’s worth it
There’s dice in the drain a dying man threw it
I ain’t like you I think that you know it
I feel every moment
The life of a poet

And this thing with god wasting my time
You can only read but I’m writing the sign
You run with life because I’m chained to mine
I walk this road
Still I walk it blind

I give the world this marrow of my bones
You’ll see us all walking behind our souls
I give the world the marrow of my bones

I feel pain so you don’t receive it
I say what I say so others can go be it
Words in my mouth a blind man can see it
I feel everything
The life of a poet

Lay down your gun you beautiful soldier
I’ve seen you at love and I’ve seen you at slaughter
I give you the ways to become a lover
I give you the right for us all to be brothers

Tears in my pen with which I’m cursed
If your not making it better you’re making it worse

I see this new world turn turn on a budget
I got these old ways old ways to judge it
The world is in chaos non creatives have fucked it
The truth is a lie
The life of a poet


Last Artist Died Today

Extinction is lonely
Seriously how dare we
But no one believes in the truth
Your servants are leaving
Your children aren’t breathing
The air hanging like a noose
I hold my cap tightly
Money they throw lightly
Everybody’s got nothing left to say
I sing with the dead
Hang down my head
The last artist died today

Food so weak
Death by what we eat
Feels like something gotta give
The Buddhists all beaten
Can’t believe what I’m seein
Children no longer want to live
In new sickness’ we’re curled
In this broken old world
To how many gods must we pray
And I played that song
With the meaning all gone
For the last artist died today

Once expression was free
But they got it down on its knees
They sold it for money, youth and fame
The challenge is over
Culture gone sober
We’re going back where we came
But the future won’t last
We’re coming in too fast
If the protestors get out of the way
The nine year olds are all eleven
There’s hostages in heaven
The last artist died today

Evolution is dead
The technologies have bled
The soul of a man on the rise
People without reason
Live in Unicorn season
All believe as they swallow the lies
The world getting smaller
As land heeds to water
The submarines beach whales in the bay
I can’t deny the weather
New isn’t always better
The last artist dies today

Young people are driven
To accept what they’re given
But nobody stands up anymore
While there’s games to be won
The evolution of the thumb
As you throw your thoughts to the floor
You don’t want to listen
And you don’t want to look
And you don’t want to hear what we say
No one can save
The world is our slave
For the last artist died today

You trade wisdom for youth
I got two chords and the truth
But there’s no money to be made out of me
The last artist gone
Taken his song
The world now too dark to see
Too many people alive
For beauty to survive
Nothing left new to say
To the extinction list
My friend has kissed
The last artist died today


Kitchen Philosophy

Everybody comes for something
Women come best for love
The world is filled with people
All wanting more when there’s been enough
I am the lonely
I am your freak
I don’t seek your time or mind
Let my children sleep

But there’s no party tonight
No one else I want to be
I shout for a silent justice
Kitchen philosophy

They’re looking to colonize another planet
Broke the one we got
Man of fate man of fiction
Few are smart the rest are not
I shoot a little breeze with no one
Take my binoculars look at the moon
Gotta keep perspective
Here too much gone too soon

Where’s the love of a good man
What were the crimes you saw
Shoot em in the back if they don’t follow orders
Shoot em in the front if they obey your law
I’m a cold man in a rainstorm
Outside the church I hear em praying
Take me home to my children
You gotta hear what people aint saying


The Sentence

My name is Elzebub Peskins. I am a writer. Like murder it chooses you, you not it. I hide in your bones, sleep in your cupboards, wake in your dreams. I have learned to respond to what life is. Yet because of this I have long ago lost the ability to host intimate friendships. But friends only last a while, the imagination lasts forever

On a childhood day I had been up high up in a hayloft, watching the suns light squeeze itself through the patched roof and there rest in amongst straw bales below me where I could see a tiny flowered dress. My father would say never underestimate the power of feeling pretty. I climbed down, head filled with long summer days and the lemonade my mother was making should I harvest a few lemons from the greenhouse that leaned exhausted against the side of the kitchen. Around the farm we had come accustomed to fox kill, they would bite the heads clean off the stupid chickens. But the little party dress had long blonde hair. Her chest had been split open from pubis to chin and her face wax-like now and turned away as if not able to look. I didn’t vomit, I didn’t scream, I just stood in a state of permanent horror. My future flashed before me. It sent me home, like from streets of Poe

And from that moment on I would always be remembered for being the little boy who discovered the poor little Austin girl. As if nothing I did now mattered. I would never be greater than the worse moment of my entire life. Such thoughts were too uncomfortable to bear. I had seen what should never be seen. I have smelt the blood of a dead child. Like being born and knowing it. Some crimes go without being solved but few go without punishment

In time as I waited for my philosophy to turn into madness I fell deeply in love with my wife, such a ravishing nocturne. Remember you can only make love to a stranger once. She was the most beautiful creature in the garden. She who holds my heart holds first my attention. Had been a poet, painter and an adventurer, all people are better who have travelled dirty roads. And at last a natural mother for our two children

One day I woke to find a letter she had written on a pillow next to me. It stated categorically that she wanted to seduce the rest of her life without me. As delicate as hand-blown glass it whispered every one of her words. It said Elzebub you have helped yourself to everything that had once existed between us. Took it all until nothing remained but a void where love once stood. Had I really scrumped the money tree till it bore no more fruit

My wife once made me feel safe. But safety is only in a moment. I was weak. Weakness is a literary word; it is a kindness to being pathetic. The thoughts of her now like perfume burning in the air about me

The children needed me almost as much as I them. We sat together and ate peaches. I used to smear them upon her hungry body and call it love, but so much for love, most of what we say is noise. The world is an enormously large canvas when you are looking for a single person and so small when looking for a place to hide. But love can hide where hate cannot

What must we go through to feel nothing? Some say more, some say less. Everything is important except politics. It is far easier to grow a critic than an artist

That night I drove to the airport, pass the fountain; the scream of the ostrich, pass the soaking of man sorrow. Out past the head bobbing girls in midnight's alley. Take the small roads out of town the ways of strangers, beneath the ghost trees and their dappled light. My children sleeping in a merry daze behind me. Out past the night accidents, the pulled over people. Didn’t stop to pick up some young kid and take him away with us and all the time knowing I would have been saving him from becoming hometown weird. But someone would and make it another story. My head in music, the rush of poise, in hope of muse. Some other requiem, busload of faith, maybe Kaddish, songs that make you alone. And all you can hear is the way it should be. Where perspective is at. Past the time when all the good people sleep. Out where I find the words that has been missing. The future is coming. To be alone with thoughts, to see the things sleeping misses. Go and get tomorrow. Out here where your mistakes become your advantage. Architecture. And I stop, find myself staring through the window of the gallery, art had become sort film, pulling on her stockings, beautiful woman crying

Once in the air my youngest said “Papa look that woman is reading your book.” A young woman with an attitude for involuntary sexual encounters sat reading the story of the little Austin girl. I watched her with my book and it was funny, she caught a man looking at her and glared back disapproving. My face on the back cover staring at me like it were saying farewell. But like a child I observe

Sometimes, you just have to breathe in hard and go write a new book.

Who but the artist can have their heart broken and from it benefit mankind

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