The Blue Aeroplanes - James
Автор: Robin Verhagen-Guest
Загружено: 2013-06-20
Просмотров: 1219
The docks are no more
But the pubs survive.
They wouldn't have let us in here
If the dockers were alive.
They wouldn't serve a woman
And they wouldn't have called time.
The bell in poets corner
Has a thieving kind of rhyme.
Shakespeare was a man of wit.
Upon his shirt he had some buttons.
Get us to the heart of it
And scatter your money on the floor.
The gallery was a café bar,
We sat in a front room.
Sobering people walked around,
Played guess the TV theme tune.
We all went with seventeens
And merited tolerance.
Didn't know a fuck except for you,
And didn't know you either.
Trad jazz on a Saturday,
Quaint and kind of parent.
I always thought you were older than me
But that wasn't what I meant.
Drinks on the table,
Joint behind the radiator.
Home-made rosé with a fag inside
Is breakfast, see you later.
See you later, Alicanté,
See you later in a moustache.
See you later in a future
With an ashtray for the ash.
See you later in a future
With a garden for your kids.
This song is on a record.
It's something that I did.
Gerard Langley/Jon Wygens
from Rough Music, 1995
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