Lyrics
Saplings Of Sop
(2002)
plus
contemporary efforts
SINK INTO
SYNGAMY
I'm tinkering with my mind
Well it kind of helps to pass the time
When you don't rise til the afternoon
Trivialities balloon
From here on in to kingdom come
I used to worry about the Bomb
But now it concerns me more
What you've got in store for your
midnight feast
No not enough chocolate today my dear
And could a movie crew please call
round
Because I'm feeling under-represented
We loiter by a phonebox
Just in case it decides to ring and
We write a personal website
Inbetween some lazy surfing and
We read the letters of Henry Root
Now I want to sink into your wit
Strange enough, it seems a perfect fit
We watch some naughty Super-8s
The living room's in such a state
The LPs gather signs of wear
Just like the clothes and we grow our
hair
Just take some advice from me
that things can be put off almost
indefinitely
Oh yes – definitely
Of that I'm sure
And there's so many poems to read
Come on let's sink into the settee
How about some syngamy?
DOOGIES SONG
Peter Davison
He produces for everyone
Faeces
Oceans of cheese
Glamrock
Shamrock
His sofa smells of wee
But I don't know why
I slice the cake
But it doesn't work properly (but I
don't know why)
Unadulterated gibberish
Come back to me
But I don't know why
But I don't know why
Paracetamol kills all known friends
Faeces kills all known friends
Glamrock kills all known friends
Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me
If everyone
Cut your finger
Quick splice once or twice
It's a crap game anyway
but it doesn't work properly
But I don't know why (x4)
Come back to me
It's a crap game anyway
Come back to me
It's my telephone
It's very hard for me to use
But I don't know why
It's a crap game anyway
All in the same room
They have no objective
The sunlight settles
Peter Davison (the sunlight settles)
He produces for everyone (come back to
me)
Faeces
Glamrock
Shamrock
He sits upon the cistern
He produces for everyone
INDECENT
MAJORITY
It was 1997
and you were sick of the Government
so you voted in the right-wing
alternative
The People's Commando, Paddy Ashdown
went on a secret mission to infiltrate
the Cabinet
and not come out
But Tony was having none of that
and Paddy fell for the PR trap
Now he said: "we don't want you on
our patch
We're strong enough to do anything we
want"
With an indecent majority there's no
effective opposition
So in comes Mr Kennedy
from dear old Ross and Cromarty
full of tact, diplomacy
and quiet as the Socialists these days
It was one year past 2000
and people on my bus were saying
that they will never vote again
The country gripped by apathy
and people filled with a sense of their
own uselessness
that's just so false
If no-one questions anything then how's
anything going to change? (x4)
Answers on a postcard
ICECREAM
KISSES
I'm dreaming of -
I don't know where I am
or what I'm doing here
but you're there
You're there.
Like a casual social
commentator
Venus fly-repellent
I can't hear what you're
saying
but you write some of it
down
and half-smile with your
eyes
with your mouth
I am tingling
I am weak at the knees
I am flushed
Blood racing through my
veins
I am young...
I am tingling
I am weak at the knees
Jelly Tots and icecream
kisses
oh - you draw me in
I should like to stay with
you
all night and
watch the sun come up in
June
I should like to stay with
you
in your room
I should like to give you
gifts
from Nature
all the sweetest we can
find
I should like to stay with
you
in your mind
in your mind
in your mind
in your mind.
DWINDLES
IN DEFEAT
You
said you never wanted to be so old
But
the lines are barely showing on your face
The
cold bit into your liquid eyes
Like
it let you see through my disguise
The
feeling dwindles in defeat
The
teardrop dries out in defeat
The
shrubs suck the carbon from my mouth
And
death hangs around this broken street
My
good intentions are kept
A
purely abstract concept
The
woodland dwindles in defeat
The
ozone dwindles in defeat
And
the pressure never seemed to much to bear (x3)
And
the lives we used to long to lead
And
the paths we used to long to tread
Well
we made it up to here
But
the paths have disappeared
Well
they couldn’t exist in reality
Well
they couldn’t exist in reality
Well
they couldn’t exist in reality
Well
they couldn’t, couldn’t exist.
WE
HAD SUCH A LOVELY TIME
The
sunlight settles on the plants
Strewn
across the floor amidst chunks of vase
Oh
we had such a lovely time
Such
a marvellous time last night
I
clenched my teeth and faked a smile
To
stop myself from spitting bile
I
shrunk inside my coat
In
my head I slit your throat
And
you did the same to me
What
a model of domestic harmony
Something
must be wrong in my life
For
me to have such thoughts
Ah
yes it’s you - it’s fucking you
You
woke me up with razorblades
I
don’t much like these morning shaves
I
kicked the television in
And
you put out all the windows
It’s
between me and you and the house
One
of us three must be the first to go
Someone
said that you’ve gone too far
Ah
but I never liked that car
Now
dear just give me your wrists
Oh
you can’t resist
The
sunlight settles on your face
I’m
quite surprised it’s still in place
Amidst
the chunks of masonry
It
looks like some abstract art gallery
Oh
and I should have run away
But
I stayed, oh yes I stayed
Now
I think we’re done
Oh
we had such a lovely time
Such
a marvellous time tonight
Oh
will you remember me?
Will
you remember me when I’ve gone?
Will
you remember me
in
casualty...
ZOETROPE
Sometimes
the pastel shades
and
piled up shapes
The
dirty cream and brown and grey
Of
day-to-day
Fade
from sight or slide
As
images of a zoetrope
Then
come in the softer forms:
They
soak and glow
like
Christmas Eve
A
child's lamp
with
amber pulse
Feeds
even the telephone
with
its warmth.
VIDEOESQUE
The
video loafed in the hall cupboard. It could not be played because the
player could not be trusted. Cleaning cassettes were about as
effective as trying to scrape Satan's crusty arse clean with only a
plastic figurine from a popular cereal packet.
Videos
decay. They lose their strength. They fade. Some of the videos in the
hall cupboard had only been viewed once then put away indefinitely.
More and more productions joined the ranks of the
never-to-be-seen-again, sitcoms and revues and horrors and thrillers
and weepies and peepies and westerns and pastiches and sci-fi and
kung-fu and music and that cheap film called "Deranged"
which isn't the one you're thinking of but a strange thing where
people wiggle about on teleport devices in the desert. Even that
didn't get watched.
It
felt bad to record over old programmes, like some kind of violation.
Imagining Michael Caine getting a shiver down his spine as I
reluctantly overwrite one of his 1980s B-movies which I hadn't even
seen, with a Comic Strip movie I would cherish but not return to.
If
a tree falls in the middle of the forest and no-one's there, does it
make a sound?
WAX
VIOLET
Violet
knows the truth
And
that's why we fight
That's
why we spend all day
Searching
for the knives:
Because
we don't have lives
We
have sequels
Cheap
and badly directed
Sometimes
you can see the walls shake
Our
moves are rehearsed
The
sky is fake
Our
moves are rehearsed
The
sky is fake
The
sky is fake
The
sky is fake
Rips
my skin at night – wakes me with wax
Rips
my skin at night – chokes me
She
drips on the carpet
The
days yawn open like wounds
I
ponder my health
We
could have been twins
Except
we look quite different
And
we never agree
Yes
we should have been twins
Oh
we should have been twins
The
sky is fake
The
sky is fake
Rips
my skin at night – wakes me with wax
I
rip her skin at night – nails in her back
She
drips on the carpet
We
slip on the carpet
Sometimes
I wish that I was insane
Mostly
at three a.m. and in chains
Both
of us cut to ribbons again
-
- - OTHERS - - -
WEAPONS
EXPO
A
secret art of keeping friends in high places
It's
Zen and the art of Dictator Maintenance
At
the weapons expo
the
British High Commissioner thanks
General
Bastard for buying more tanks
Peaceful
pledges so plausibly made
All
torn through in the name of trade
Exploit
the arms race
Paint
up our other face
A
little war is always good for business
The
price of oil and the flow of refugees
Are
intertwined with our foreign policy
Self-righteous
anger may give comfort but it's bunk
Cos whose
fault is lack of jobs or council housing stock?
So
where does all the blood money go?
They've
got a holding cell in case you might know
but
they pipe back the pictures
with
the solemn descriptions
and
someone in Woking gets slightly put off their dinner
Guaranteed
to detonate or your money back
Guaranteed
to maim, my friend
And
as half the world blows lumps out of each other
We
can look out from our island fiction with pride
As
we know that Britain's keeping up one of its finest traditions:
Arming
both sides.
WEALTH
SUMMIT
They
had a summit in Rio
And
nothing much got done
And
now a summit in Jo'burg
And
nothing much got done
You
have to marvel corporations
They're
built to weather any knocks
You
find when you stand up to protest
They
buy out your soapbox
They
had a big old summit
And
said “we're doing our best”
And
thought “well we're all screwed now
Better
smile for the lens”
GROUND CONTROL TO TONY
[NB: this was written on the eve of the 2001 election]
Ground
control to Tony
won't you come down from wherever the hell you've
been?
This country's fucked up
This eroding rock
Battered by a syrup sea of
apathy
and half-baked
complacency
Ground control to Tony
This country's Britain
if you're quite ready for touchdown
[We've been so patient
all
through the show
though why you bothered we still don't know]
The
Labour party
Needs pre-requisites in
place
Like compassion and a
caring human face
..
…
Let's go on a
holiday
not as far as outer space
but somewhere where you can
get lost
just finding yourself inside yourself
Ground
control to Tony
We get the feeling you're
a pointless schmooze machine
But the only time people get off
their arse
Is when the policy
directly affects their cars
Now Tory policy
would make homes for moles
Stuffed with worms and
just a mass of mud and holes
The men from Rent-A-Cause
who know what's in vogue
They want William to
appeal to xenophobes
There is a Third Way
-
it's the victory of rhetoric
[but it's much too hard to
describe]
but we all know who Mandy's earwigged
and where Two Jags slopped
for his lunch
Ground control to
Tony
won't you come down from wherever the hell you've been?
It
must send you dizzy
High above the ground
The London wheel spins
around and around
But never moves on.
VILLAGE
OF DEATH
(Performed twice live,
once in 2001 and once in 2008, both in rushed circumstances)
The
time machine arrived in the village
Just as the fire was being
extinguished
A pagan festival had gone too
far
A family dead
and villagers armed
The intelligence men had been
called in
But
the look on the face of the Timelord was grim
As he attempted to
fathom the Village of Death
the Village of Death
The
villagers were all silent and busy
Except for one bespectacled
Biddy
She took refuge in a Bleak old
House
Where the Timelord
sat and engaged her in chat
Reading through the dementia he
found
The deceased and Biddy had
common ground
They both knew
more than they were supposed to
And they were witches
And
what would life be like without comedy?
And what would life be
like without insanity?
Amongst the wreckage from the
fire
A
crystal clean and bright
The Army wants it lock and key
but The
Timelord has such curiosity...
Mr Stagnant baked for the
village
He was holding back a keen
intelligence
He was holding
back something else
As the Brigadier sent his men
to search
The
Timelord arrived at breakfast
Stagnant fled to the bathroom
Where
he cut himself shaving madly
And his blood dripped green
And
his blood dripped green!
Through the bottom of the sink
Deadlocked
doors, a trap for a Timelord
A coven in suspicion, a rustle,
a
noise
Distracted soldier fell for the
ploy
The crystal gone, a
coven numb
The village under Stagnant's
thumb
And what
would life be like without aliens?
And what would life be like
without invasions?
Well the sonic screwdriver
dealt with the
door - a lazy trap, but Stagnant and wife gone. Feet up - the
mind applied - cheese and wine - library fines - the Brig in line -
just like old times.
A mysterious signal sounded
And all
the villagers halted
Took up weapons, surrounded
Biddy
who
wailed like a harpy
At the sound they fell and
cringed
Stagnant
appeared with thunder
and shed his borrowed skin
- the
Brigadier was dumbstruck
The reptile eyes were glowing
The
shiny slimy scales showing
and Biddy was chanting, but
then a
vision:
the crystal rescued from the
fire
in the Timelord's
hand - he said leave!
But Stagnant was so tuned into
its
presence
His senses overloaded - he
could not hold it
And he
imploded!
And the sky exploded!
The Brigadier jumped for
cover
and Doctor!
The villagers were depossessed
As the
Timelord explained the rest
all about the war
between the
mystic witches
and the reptilian lurkers
and their plot to
conquer England
thwarted in time for tea
In time for tea and
crumpets
In time for tea at three
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