Like it or not you'll see my face soon I'll force my way up into your room the things I say will soon make you swoon I'll point to the sun and say it's the moon So you needn't fret, I'll get in your life yet Make you sit back and enjoy the touch of a boy Lie over relaxed with your hand on your lap Just give me some time so I can work on your spine. I'll turn into jelly by being so kind I'll love you to death before your first grasp for breath I'll open your doors and take what I find Your heart is gold it's just a matter of time Give me that gold and I'll melt it down Give me the tears that I took from your eye You are not getting so far or going back home Without regretting that I got your backbone I'll turn you into a lovelump chum Come on submit, why not become one It's just a matter of time
I suppose love lives in a dustbin behind the garden wall You have to grovel on the ground and be pretty disgusting to find it at all And I suppose that it grows on you Standing there with no clothes on, and I suppose because there's beautiful girls in this town I'll stay here till I've chosen one. I suppose life's like a hunt, really: the hounds have fun until the fox gets bagged And not one girl in this town will ever fall in love with me: They'll get dragged. Her heart speaks to me; says the room the room the room beneath her dress, and I suppose that it beats for me Like a hammering moon pulling tides through her chest Suppose she says that she owes me all that she owns and all that she is It seems to me I suppose that her heart's not enough and her love is a swizz. So suppose love lives in a mansion how the hell do I get over the wall? And if my rope's not stretched the right tension I won't cross this grand canyon at all. And I suppose that it grows like a tumor, spreads like a rumor like the grass grows and inch every day And I suppose that before I even know it, the tide will start flowing and the drum beneath my jacket will say: You know you need her everyday She is the moon and she showed me her face She is the house and she opened the gates
So who was first? Obviously not me. She's locked up inside herself and I can't get anything free So won't somebody tell me please Why the former owner always keeps the keys. There's no bubbles to burst No bursting out crying nor dying of thirst She's utterly tied to somebody else and it seems he got there first. And No, I'm not untying the reins around her neck that she feels and I won't try to prise out of her the truth anymore when she lies about the things that she sees Because the former owner always keeps the keys. There's no calling "Come here, you're necessary to me." There's no excitement in her face when I implore "Corrupt me and confess to me some more." And when we hear trees falling or see people disappearing Her emotions won't be reached or released, Because the former owner is keeping the keys Like a ticket inspector running for a bus Irony's revenge surrounds us. And it's ironic that he promised you he'd never let you go When he's left you used-up and disturbed And I said "Just as the early bird catches the worm The early cat catches the bird" But that former owner is keeping his word
Here I am, hardly breathing in at all I cough when I can and that's about all I am this man and though I turn the tape To a happier song, my face can't find a smile because it's been looking too long You arrive like a locust swarm You devastated me and now when you leave the room My heart, head, hands and all forms go from red hot blood to bone dry and lukewarm You're the sticks and stones, girl You're the fire and flames I might be half-dead and half-born girl but whales start singing when I hear your name. I'm heaped with hate like acid rain, nothing can restrain the loathing and disgust I have and there is no one I distrust more than the happy whores who buy and trade, crawling on all fours backwards into holes and fires that wealth and self-congratulations made You're the sticks and stones, girl You're the fire and flames you're the punishment, the pleasure the employment and the leisure You're the sweet conversation and the cutting names Heart, head, hands and all forms went from red hot blood to bone dry and lukewarn Whales stopped singing and the ships were bringing in Toadstools and moss instead of sugarbeet and corn And all the girls in the world were distorted and deformed when the first leech was let loose and my jealousy was born. You're the sticks and stones girl You're the fire and flames
The World and the surrounding stars might change completely in the space of an hour but not an eclipse of the sky nor a colliding car will turn me back now that I've come this far. Not a shotgun blast nor a shooting star will bring her down from her stubborn tower. It's a kind of madness, it's a kind of sin To live in the state of mind I've been living in Her face imprinted on my sight Her voice resounding in my skull at night. If there is a living goddess on Earth It must be her from the heaven highlife It takes this girl to realise what you're worth and I'm worth nothing if she's worth more than my life. But there's more to me than simple devotion I won't just crawl at her feet and utter a plea And if she refused I wouldn't walk into the ocean Just because my world was left all out at sea. So it was in this cafe when we eventually met And I wished I had sunglasses and smoked cigarettes The World and the surrounding stars They change completely in the space of an hour When over the table and two cups of tea She told me she felt the same way about me. And not an eclipse of the sky nor a colliding car could have shaken our attention from each other's face As we both stepped down from our stubborn towers We jump into the ignorant heaven that is the lover's place.
Though the coffins are calling I'm not coming I'm too young to listen and I'm still scrawling on see-saws and slides, skipping ropes and swings, Toothpaste and trousers, watches and wedding rings. She shouted to me under the juggernaut roar, "This is the Bad Life, what are we here for?" And wonderful world why are you full of endless monotony and tiresome fools? These people that surrounded me were damaged and done and we were as compatible as swimming pools and slums. And why are you grinning from ear to ear, Isn't this the Bad Life? Though there was leads in the petrol and bacteria in the beer Though she moved away and left me hopeless, I was writing I Was Here. She said this Bad Life that I'm leading is deceiving and depriving me I said why don't you try relieving me, while she was reading I was stealing from the library. And sweetness and sadness lived in sin with built-in indigestion the new buildings held their stomachs in Goodness and Badness were hardly anything I wanted to love her but she was never in Though they were taking out tongues in the land of the gun though the sweating was getting near Though her head was hung saying I did not become her, I keep writing I Was Here Though the dusts were growing in my lungs and some were turning backs on the babies turning blue And I adore you but before you say "I adore you too" Say I Was Here, and so were you
Making your way through an orangepeel orchard Tracing your day from disillusioned to debauched and Spring passed quickly below the rotten elm tree You weren't kissed there you were pissed in the lavatory And shaving is something that you grew out of and it would take a heat wave to get you to take your jacket off. You hang around the square watching someone kick the boys in With a hand through your hair as if to comb out the poison Sing some stupid song about crows in the wheatfield It's been so long since you saw crows in the wheatfield And don't forget that day you remembered When you saw fish swim in the sewage system river And keep revising that picture in your mind When you left home and the crow's behind and the Apples were sweet and summers were long digging in your bare feet on a short yellow lawn You used to stifle a smile or forget not to yawn Do all the things that men do when they're To the River Born. With fifty-five pense between his two fingers And a swirling head as the feeling of hunger lingers Sing some stupid songs about crows in the wheatfield It's been so long since you saw crows in the wheatfield Sing some stupid song about crows in the wheatfield You knew all along you were a crow in the wheatfield
I have overloved you and overseen you and now you're refusing the gifts that I bring you My hands have been clasping my hot head and asking "If she submits to me, will she be my property?" You may be bleeding but you're not dying though you are dying to go Stop teasing me I'm not seeing you leaving me Here is a party full of my friends and here is a cup being filled up to be drunk again We are just starting luxurious lives to be drunkards and diddymen making Gulf wars and battered wives. Now I may be pleading but there's no love nor fear in my eyes Just greediness I'm not seeing this sleeping dog lie. I am the wild horses who will drag you away I am the locked door who can make you stay And I will act the man in almost anyway I can So I can keep keep keep you. So wake up you pretty thing to a wonderful home Where we while away the happy Saturdays between the television and the telephone And I stroke your head just to feel what I own whispering "Will you be my property, and not my disability?" And why are you craving To be free from love's slavery Stop teasing me Love's not letting go. I am the child calling you to come back and play I am the concert hall in which you hear me say I'll act a man in almost anyway I can So I can keep keep keep you even though you may not understand I am the bee and you are the pollen I am the keeper you are the lion I am the holes down which you would have fallen If I had not been the hand who came and beckoned you (And I'm not seeing this sleeping dog lie) Maybe You were born wrong But why am I picking holes in you when it's holes that we all come from? Maybe I was born strong To stop love from overtaking me To stop love from living too long. And you may be bleeding and leading me to the blood flow But sleep tight tonight lions This keeper's never letting go.
Good luck and lost love's knife cut a path leading through my life I weave through the gusts of change as a kite might through the sky. I feel down and degraded like I felt when you and me began to tire And we stopped long ago But I thought it was just ceasefire. I can leave the past behind like any normal man can do But what I find most of the time is that I have been left behind you. I can feel time pushing me forward so what does it matter what direction I'm pointed in? No one else used to sing my sad chorus Now I feel that they too have joined in. Bad luck and lucky breaks cut paths right through our lives We follow the blind man's bluff like lorrys follow white lines in the night. And by our nature we are kept alone No matter haw long your nails you can't cut out of the womb. And if I can't crash off-course You must be marooned and we will not be able to go back to the source of this wound.
All day long, sweeping up the dead pigeons from the pavement After the long dim dawn He remembered how she pulled him from disaster into laughter. Well it didn't take long for him to be consumed and he turned around and said as her caressing resumed "We once were close but now we're both marooned, and what was once a stirring melody is now a distant tune." She said "You angel, you flower, you're powerful." but he felt no feelings but his head hot and belly full and basking in the sun he only feels a gas fire and he sees no apparent difference between the chimney and the church spire He says: "This garden of roses, is overgrown with weeds, and where the great west river flows I can see nothing but pebbles and reeds." All day long she stuck his nose into Siberia and dragged him through Hong Kong till she said "You carrier, you coward, you're pitiful, Feeling less and less is just an easy way of doing more wrong."
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