18 Again

Party Talk
Waste Of A Skin
Summer Story
Crushing Wit
From Thoughts To Flowing Ink
(Acoustic version)
What About Me?
Undeniably Blue
Mouthful Of Foot
Buzzard Creek
Cool To Be Miniscule
Saturday Night
Stay Where You Are
From Thoughts To Flowing Ink
(Electric version)
Let Her Dream



18 AGAIN

Her face showed shock as I woke her in the morning,
A woman’s lines and moaning whines showed another day was dawning,
How could she look upon an inspiring moment of the day like this,
She was never moved by much and I certainly never moved her at all.

Chorus:            All she wants is to be 18 again.

She jumps out of bed just to prove she still can do it,
Runs to the wardrobe and begins to look right through it,
Why could she not be blessed with money and a certain style and grace divine,
If she’d been blessed with these, you can bet your benefit cheque she wouldn’t of have been mine.

Chorus Repeat

She’s fed up with me and what is more,
She’s fed up with me and that makes her diet a bore.

She says she’s in ill health, it’s a cross, she’ll have to bear it,
“Look at my complexion”, but she seems to do quite well with it,
She should do this, she should do that, her spring is very tightly wound,
The only exercise she gets is running for the smoker’s carriage on the Underground.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


PARTY TALK

Did I ever tell you ‘bout the book I wrote?
It’s not exactly written but one day I think I might,
Did I ever tell you ‘bout my famous friends?
Gossiping like neighbours over the garden fence.
But what would you think of me,
If my only brush with celebrity,
Was a fleeting glimpse of Beryl Reid,
On a bus?

Chorus:   You’re impressed, taken in,
                Telling lies is a marvellous thing
                If I said I’m well read,
                Would you like me enough to take me to bed?
                But if that is no good,
                I’ll pretend that I’m misunderstood,
                I won’t talk for an hour,
                Then perhaps you and me can retire to the shower.

Did I ever tell you ‘bout my childhood?
I can’t talk about it but I wish to God I could,
Furrowing a worried brow, I sigh aloud,
It’s only me and J.D. that has lived under this cloud.
But what would you think of me,
If I bowed and scraped my knee,
I don’t think you’d be best pleased.

Chorus Repeat

A latter day Walter Mitty,
Trying to impress,
But if I’m not too careful,
The truth will come out and you’ll button up your dress.

But what would you think of me,
If I bowed and scraped my knee,
I don’t think you’d be best pleased.

Chorus:   What’s your name? Where’s your pad?
                Yes, I’d love to meet your mum and dad,
                It’s all straight from a book,
                ‘How To Make Friends Volume Five: Party Talk’,
                You’re impressed, taken in,
                Telling lies is a marvellous thing,
                If I said I’m well read,
                Would you like me enough to take me to bed?


( back to top )


WASTE OF A SKIN

It rained the day she tried to tell both her parents,
About her happy forthcoming event,
Her father’s fists, they rained down in showers,
Her mother thought it immaculately sent,
And so that child pushing a pram doesn’t seem as depressed as I am.

Chorus:            He’s a waste of a skin.

He seemed overjoyed with the birth of his daughter,
He thought giving birth was no cause for alarm,
He thought that he’d celebrate just as he ought to,
By having her name tattooed there on his arm,
But as the needle took aim it was decided that they’d change her name.

Chorus Repeat

He tried for a while to be a perfect father,
But gave up when it took up most of his time,
And so that child pushing a pram doesn’t seem as depressed as I am.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


SUMMER STORY

Musty smell is summer’s scent,
Merely rain on warm pavement,
Perspiring men, women glow,
They hope the humid air will flow,
She shouldn’t wear legs with a skirt like that,
I’ll bet the catalogue won’t take it back.

Chorus:   I’ll sit and watch the summer flow,
                I’ll just sit here and let myself go,
                To see you there, tall and tanned in all your glory,
                Just a gorgeous summer story.

Walked through the graveyard just to sign on, 
Really gives you something to dwell upon,
These poor sods worked hard all their lives,
Half never made it to sixty five,
So armed with that, I’ll sign my name as if nothing’s wrong,
Think about work when autumn comes along.

Chorus Repeat

I’ll stave off hollow cheeks,
For twenty six weeks.

Repeat Verse 1

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


CRUSHING WIT

She wakes to find herself between sheets,
In the house of a stranger, filthy place,
Ugly face in the bed next to her,
What a lark, invited back, recalls no question mark,
Spent her benefit on some yob’s crushing wit.

Chorus:   How could she, how could she,
                Pull the sheets over him, pull the wool over my eyes?
                How could she, how could she?

He stirs for a while, she gets up to find,
Her clothes in a pile, what a night,
Perhaps she should have put up some small fight,
What a game, in the end, works out the same,
Sealed her fate under some yob’s crushing weight.

Chorus Repeat

He’ll lie, but of course,
Say that she took him by force,
She’ll lie, but of course…

Oh, what a lark, invited back, recalls no question mark,
Spent her benefit on some yob’s crushing wit.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


FROM THOUGHTS TO FLOWING INK

Every time I talk you take it in,
Tell me, am I right?
Even when my written words are looking very, very thin,
Tell me, am I right?
And as thoughts to flowing ink go down,
Will she be impressed or frown?

Chorus:   I talk to you and you listen,
                I read to you and you listen,
                Is it wise to learn from types like me,
                With my grudges held and my jealousy?

One day all my words will come back haunting,
And I’ll be wrong,
They’ll trip me up eventually, eventually till I’m trapped in,
And I’ll be wrong,
And as thoughts to flowing ink are penned,
My ignorance could mean the end.

Chorus Repeat

Every time you talk I take it in,
Tell me, are you right?
Even when your written words are looking very, very thin,
Tell me, are you right?
And as thoughts to flowing ink go down,
Will I be impressed or frown?

Chorus:    You talk to me and I listen,
                 You read to me and I listen,
                 You unload it all on types like me,
                 With your grudges held and jealousy.
                 I talk to you and you listen,
                 I read to you and you listen,
                 Is it wise to learn from types like me,
                 With my grudges held and my jealousy?

( back to top )


WHAT ABOUT ME

If I asked you “Where is all this taking me?”
If you replied “Anywhere you want it to be”,
Would you lie as if it’s truth,
When I screamed at you for proof.

Chorus:        What about me?

If I complained and screamed about how hard I’d been done,
Would sympathy and compassion in my direction come?
You’d show interest, would you care?
With another failed affair.

Chorus Repeat

And if you tell me all the things that happen to you,
I don’t reply because I know I’m not supposed to you,
Are you waiting for me to,
Say “That’s enough of you”?

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


UNDENIABLY BLUE

Just like ghosts, running round my head,
Memories try to haunt me,
And what’s worse, every thought was sent,
From a time I was lonely.
So sad is recall that maybe, these child’s thought would be better at rest,
But boys and girls wake up themselves and make me feel…

Chorus:        Undeniably Blue

If I could, thoughts I’d bury deep,
Rest assured they would never,
Rise again and kiss the very cheek,
Of the man who had severed.
So sad is recall that maybe, these child’s thought would be better at rest,
But boys and girls wake up themselves and make me feel…

Chorus Repeat

Fate never worries a sure man, he has strength in what will be, will be,
But how can I draw any comfort in what has been, has been?

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


MOUTHFUL OF FOOT

I seem to get it wrong again and again,
My thought seems rational, till I choke on my ankles,
You’ve got the vision of a Tory MP,
You say “It’s working”, it feels more like a YTS scheme,
And I think it’s known as slavery,
Your luxury, my poverty,
And so I asked myself over and over again.

Chorus:       Should I love you, could you love me, girl?
                    Am I fated to be tolerated, girl?

I’ve got the timing of a street corner watch,
I say “I love you”, you say “There’s been a death in the house”,
You’re like a writer from the News Of The World,
You build me up and then, you knock me down with a word,
And it usually starts with B,
Like boyfriend, bore or bugger off,
And so I asked myself over and over again.

Chorus Repeat

I live in hope, I hope in vain,
I’m vain enough to think you’ll love me again,
I’m black and blue and inside out,
I’d sell my record collection just to take you out.

You’re as contrary as a Fred Astaire song,
I say “Tomato”, you say I’m a culinary halfwit,
I’m like a fireman on a false alarm call,
I’ve got the house but I can’t seem to find the fire,
And I think your lighter’s run out,
No butane gas or paraffin,
So, I’m scratching my head, saying over and over again.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


BUZZARD CREEK

Father Thames rolls on like rolling stock,
Flows past affluence and developing docks,
Tributaries act like a slow leak,
And none more so that at Buzz Creek,
New love’s found on waste ground.

She’s been left a one-parent family,
He’s been banged up for taking part in a burglary,
He didn’t get much for his labour,
‘Cos he robbed the house of a neighbour,
Out in October, new leaf turned over,
A job he’ll seek at Buzzard Creek.

Chorus:       A suburban story, sad but true,
                    I’ll bet you’re glad it isn’t you,
                    But up the river a mile or two,
                    There’s a rosier Thames view.

Stagnant water, stagnant middle age years,
She’s still got kids and large amounts of those menopause fears,
He didn’t try much to understand her,
But later he’ll give her a backhander,
Pulls up her nightie for the sex fortnightly,
Dead under Don Juan with reeking socks on.

Chorus Repeat

Father Thames rolls on like rolling stock,
It flows past affluence and developing docks,
Those tributaries act like a slow leak,
And none so more that at Buzz Creek,
From waste ground you can hear a sound,
Two hearts pound, new love’s found.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


COOL TO BE MINISCULE

I’m not big, that’s of course,
They’ll probably never take me in the police force,
Never get a petrol bomb on the back of the head,
Never break and entry and shoot somebody dead.

I’m not huge, I confess,
I’ve never taken space in the book of Guiness,
Never pull a truck,
Never be a bouncer and have to ruck.
So, it fills me with mirth,
To get a tape measure twice around my girth.

Chorus:       Yes, it’s cool to be miniscule,
                    Yes, it’s cool to be miniscule,
                    If you’re less than 5 foot 9,
                    In my good books, that’s fine,
                    Miniscule is cool.

I’m not large, that’s a fact,
Never be half of a comic double act,
Never get cheap laughs from sad old jibes,
About dogs with no nose, Irishmen and wives.
So, it makes me guffaw,
To take your weight and divide by four.

Chorus:       Yes, it’s cool to be miniscule,
                    It’s cool to be miniscule,
                    If thin you were before,
                    Now you can’t get through the door.

It’s a crying shame if your glands are really to blame,
But don’t complain to me when you’re sitting on top trying to punch daylights out of me.

Repeat Verse 1

I’m not big, I’m small,
There’s not a long way for me to small,
Not big, I’m small, I’m skinny, not tall,
I’m not high, I’m not wide, you can fit two inside.
So, I know that it’s cool,
To be less than six lengths of a twelve inch rule.

Chorus Repeat

(back to top)


SATURDAY NIGHT

She had a video and a take away,
And planned her perfect Saturday,
An evening of love,
While her parents were at the Social Club.
He, of course, had other ideas,
He’d ring and have a few more beers,
And stagger back late,
In front of the telly he’d vegetate.
But, oh, she should have hoped for less,
He’d had a hard day on the terraces.

Chorus:       She dreamed, oh how she dreamed,
                    But this was reality,
                    Her very future slumped,
                    On her settee.

Peroxide at Madame Charlotte’s,
Her family planning Forget-Me-Nots,
Were all wasted on him,
Because he kissed and caressed a beer glass rim,
How could she ever love this man,
Who would delicately stab a rival fan,
Then brag and tell,
Then drag his body across this girl.
But, oh, she should have hoped for less,
He’d had a hard day on the terraces.

Chorus Repeat

She had a part time job and he was a full time slob,
He was his father’s son and proud to be an Englishman,
Who hated everything in sight that didn’t drink and wasn’t white,
But if he ever had a son this whole thing would be begin again.

Repeat Verse 1

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )


STAY WHERE YOU ARE

With parents like two cement block ‘round her feet,
Her small town she began to loathe,
So she took a hammer to both.
So she travelled up to the city of her dreams,
From the small town that time forgot,
To share reality of a pissed stained squat.

Chorus:        Just stay where you are.

Freedom to choose is freedom to lose,
Every man has his own path to carve,
And his read ‘homeless and starved’.
What a sweet young girl, the apple of their eye,
Family life is so important now,
When begging change from the passers by.

Chorus Repeat

With parents like two cement block ‘round her feet,
Her small town she began to loathe,
So she took a hammer to both.
But when you’re knocked down, very rarely it leaves,
Something beautiful in its place,
Just more of the same mistakes.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )



LET HER DREAM

After all’s said and done what’s the point,
Being true to yourself when lies look more lovely in health,
Be real if you must but I wouldn’t trust it,
It’s easy to dream, you have licence to scheme.

She sings along to a tune of the day,
A dirge with five words from a singer with nothing to say,
She hums along and thinks her life’s heavenly.

He’s very nice but he’s not what she needs,
She likes to follow so he always leads,
Her life’s on a leash but she thinks her life’s heavenly.

Chorus:       So, let her dream, let her dream, let her dream of her love and wages,
                    Let her dream, let her dream, let her dream of a love that rages.

He’s very sure and he’s full of himself,
She scuffs her shoes as she sits on the shelf,
She always at heel but she thinks that he’s heavenly.

She felt as a girl that her life would have scope,
So she studies the actors from American soaps,
The price is her life but she thinks her life’s heavenly.

Chorus Repeat

It’s nice to believe there’s an ace up her sleeve,
But I fear for the worst,
She’ll wake from her dream with a shout and a scream,
And realise that she’s cursed in a self-made nightmare.

She believes love’s old lies, she believes every word,
She talks very often but seldom is heard,
So please don’t disturb, ‘cause she thinks her life’s heavenly.

Chorus Repeat

( back to top )