1. |
Abba and Novocaine
03:37
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What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
It makes no sense – I refuse to give it a name
It feels a bit like chocolate and stomach pain
What am I supposed to say to this emotion?
It sauntered in here but I refuse to let it walk free
Feels a bit like an evening in Casualty
(Not the version on TV)
What I am to do with this emotion?
It can’t be trusted – I won’t put its name on the list
It’s a smiling six-foot anarchist
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
It makes no sense – I refuse to give it a name
Feels like the English massing at Dunsinane
In the pouring rain
Hey, kitten, you’ve got some explaining to do
Never felt like this before – is it you?
‘Cos it’s ten times worse when you’re in view
And when you not in view, too
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
It makes no sense – I refuse to give it a name
It smells a bit like Camden at closing time
What am I supposed to say to this emotion?
It’s high on something. I won’t let it into my home.
I guess it sounds a bit like the dialling tone
On some seventies payphone
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
It makes no sense – I refuse to give it a name
Feels a bit like Abba and novocaine
What am I supposed to say to this emotion?
It makes no sense – I refuse to pass it the conch
It’s counting down like a rocket launch
It’s a queasy hunch
Just remember, I wrote half of Shakespeare’s plays
I invented poker, sex and mayonnaise
Thank goodness this is just a phase
The sort that’s history in days
Or never goes away…
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
What am I supposed to do with you?
What am I supposed to do with this emotion?
Feels so good, I don’t want to give it my trust
We found a junk shop Stradivarius
Could be the end of us...
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2. |
Uh
03:24
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Freedom is a greedy girl
One little taste could never be enough
When you could swallow the world
Won’t read the bloody manual
And you won’t do as you’re told
Keep knocking back the Panda Pops
And you’ll never grow old
But faith is a foreign disease
And being young and English means
You can do as you please
Take a running jump at Beachy Head
And launch yourself overseas
This morning
Carol Kirkwood said a hard rain’s gonna fall
My Belgian in-laws just floated down the hall
Sex is a fidgety friend
If you keep pressing pause and having naps
We’ll never get to the end
And calling me by your cat’s name
Gets you a three out of ten
Strim your lawn every dry weekend
But it just grows back again
God is a fan of the Smiths
A fondness not reflected in her
More popular myths
She’s not obsessed with Morrissey
But she quite likes Johnny’s licks
This evening
Liam Dutton said a hard rain’s gonna fall
My bust of Hattie Jacques just floated down the hall
It rains in Letchworth more than I thought it would
Come monsoon season, expect a flood
So when you visit you’d do well to bring your ark
More street cred than your Subaru and much less grief to park
The millionaire satirist
Well, she turned to me and said:
“If you’re not home by midnight, Dawn,
I insist you go to bed.”
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3. |
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In Letchworth they call you ‘darling’
Even if they’re not your darling
I guess some people find it charming
I hope one of them is you
’Cos there are names I’d like to call you
That otherwise might appal you
If this queer scenario enthrals you
Well… I suggest you…
Come visit Letchworth
It’s the international capital of love
I could call you ‘darling’
In the international capital of love
It’s rude to not hold hands
In the international capital of love
Of love
So… come visit Letchworth
It’s the international capital of love
Half an hour from King’s Cross
To the international capital of love
It’s always bedtime in
The international capital of love
Of love
Of love
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4. |
I Knew Your Father
03:27
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In the thirteen seconds I knew your father
In the thirteen seconds I knew your father
In the thirteen seconds I knew your father
I’d like to think I got the measure of the man
His smell of wet leather and his bravado
His childlike conviction in the power of his right hand
But the man you spoke of on TV, I didn’t recognise
Your laughing, loving family man, not dead behind the eyes
But in the thirteen seconds I knew your father
Precious moments I knew your father
I knew your father
I knew your father
In the thirteen seconds I knew your brother
I flatter myself I got to know him pretty well
For his seven seconds of casual violence
I’d like to think he’s earned a special place in hell
But something in that moment held us intimately near
And I’d like to think I gained a lasting souvenir
From the thirteen seconds I knew your brother
Precious moments I knew your brother
I knew your brother
I knew your brother
In the thirteen seconds I knew your father
In the thirteen seconds I knew your brother
In the thirteen seconds I knew your uncle
In the thirteen seconds I knew your cousin
In the thirteen seconds I knew your grandson
In the thirteen seconds I knew your boyfriend
In the thirteen seconds I knew your father
I knew your father well
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5. |
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Observe: the robot girl psychiatrist
The finest model in the range
Look closer, don’t it seem just like she’s thinking?
Lips part slightly, pupils dilate
But there’s no telltale breath upon her window
Despite Kyoto’s freezing fog and rain
She apprehends the neon signs, the midnight bus stop
Stir her in ways she can’t explain
She says the past is just a mausoleum
I can wake you from the frightening dream
Each dawn the robot girl psychiatrist
Relives the trauma of her birth
The reek of solder, the grinding servos
Six hundred volts, direct to earth
Intrusive hands connect capacitors
That will one day have the capacity to care
Upload a continent of human suffering
Eyes flick open, suddenly she’s there
She says – sometimes projection can occur
These feelings aren’t for me, but her
But there’s no reason you should cry
There are still some drugs we haven’t tried
And soon the bad thoughts are all gone
But the scent of her lingers on, and on, and on…
You tell the robot girl psychiatrist
The darkest thoughts you never dreamed you’d voice
The sound of bombs taking out Hapsburgstrasse
The ghost of Frida Kahlo on your cross
She feels out the glitches in your software
As you lie static on her couch
Your lips part slightly, pupils dilate
An unaccustomed dryness in your mouth
She says that life is like my waiting room
No one there watching anything you do
And maybe death will be a brand new start
As your agony turns slowly into art
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6. |
Coda - Back Into Drugs
02:43
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He wants to get back into drugs
Not the heavy stuff
Whatever junior doctors take will do just fine
He wants to get back into drugs
‘Cos these days, nothing is enough
And laughter’s no medicine at all, he finds
She wants to get back into drugs
A short cut back to somebody she liked
No worse than Proust and his madeleine
She wants to get back into drugs
She’s strayed too deep into the forest
Needs a kindly light to lead her home again
He wants to get back into drugs
She wants to get back into drugs
All of us want to get back into drugs
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The False Dawns Letchworth Garden City, UK
The Sound Of Young Letchworth.
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