Are we having the time of our life? Are we having the time of our lives? Are we coming across clear? Are we coming across fine? Are we part of the plan
Gotta get out of TV Just pick a point and go The ticker-tape tangles my feet As I search for a face that I know Come on, tower crane driver There's not
The fix is in There's a nag on the dank at Epsom The fix is in Can't wait to see how it upsets 'em Too many times we've been postally pipped We've loaded
So I'm there Charging around with a juggernaut brow Overdrive, speeches and deadlines to make Cramming commitments like cats in a sack Telephone burn
How dare the premier ignore my invitations He'll have to go So to the bunchy luncheons with it's second on my list of things to do At the top I'm stopping
A friend of mine grows his very own brambles They twist all around him 'til he can't move Beautiful, quivering, chivalrous shambles What is my friend
Drinking in the morning sun Blinking in the morning sun Shaking off the heavy one Heavy like a loaded gun What made me behave that way? Using words I
I plant the kind of kiss That wouldn't wake a baby On the self same face The lie wouldn't let me sleep And the street is singing with my feet And dawn
Mondays is for drinking to the seldom seen kid I've been working on a cocktail called "Grounds For Divorce" Whoah Polishing a compass that I hold in
Before leaving get to the bar No one round here makes you pay Never very good at goodbyes So gentle shoulder charge.... Love you mate. Love you mate.
Sweet Jesus I'm on fire She has the sweetest, darkest eyes And when it comes into her eyes I know iron and steel couldn't hold me But god I'm easy bruised
Been climbing trees I've skinned my knees My hands are black the sun is going down She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam She's listening to the dream
Come as you are sweetheart, come as you are. You know you've got nothing to prove I'll put you to bed you can let it all go You've been playing too rough
My brother fear is only natural You need to chill your fucking bones You will feel Christ-like When it's breathing in and out Right there on the pillow
Your eyes are just like black spiders Your hair and dress in ribbons. Babycakes In despair or incoherent. Nothing in between China white, my bride tonight
I'll be the corpse in your bathtub Useless I'll be as deaf as a post If you hold me like a newborn Whisper what you feel My badly strung declaration To
The whole towns slippin down a hill. Like the spine of something dead. Slide in shadow cobble-creep. Burn your mark and leave. The trench conventions
Don't mix your drinks Don't mix with him. It will kill you one day. Good advice. Sound advice. You need to be like him, like me. Look what you could achieve
