1. |
Brighton Rock
05:40
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The Old West Pier looks like a spider set against a twilit sky the colour of sweetest port
The kind you liked to drink once
But just one glass, just one, and never on weeknights
Oh Christ, you’re so fucking middle class
I check the weather forecast
And hope for rain
‘Cause course you’ll board that train, yeah, and of course you’ll take his hand
You’ll rent a townhouse by the pier and you’ll take walks across the sand
Down by the bay, down by the bay - day by day
So I’ll just let her get away
Your boy - he’ll be the toast of Soho - your man - and the king of White Cube
There - with all manner of boys upon his arm
Oh - he’ll be on Serota’s rota - your beau - and be in Saatchi’s satchel
Sweet - with a gaggle of girls upon his arm
Boys upon his arm, boys upon his arm, girls upon his arm
Then maybe you’ll find the time to write that novel that you’ve always wanted to write
It used to keep you up all night
‘Cause when he leaves home - leaves you on your own once more
You’ll have all those seeds to sow and reap and time to cry yourself to sleep
Quite simply let her fade away
It’s six months on and still I have recurring dreams - I’m trapped in-between two panes of glass
I’m staring up at you while
I loop the loop, endlessly - me and eight strange gentlemen
I don’t know them but they’re grinning freakishly
And stroking eight au fait goatees
‘Cause of course you’ll board that train, yeah, and of course you’ll take his hand
You’ll rent a townhouse by the pier and you’ll take walks across the sand
Down by the bay - day by day
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2. |
Ballad Of The Beach
04:58
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Please, if you’re listening, don’t go thinking that I really followed you down there
Or that I have closed myself down to love and to life
Or that I have become paralysed
I’m functioning perfectly and all that that implies
But I still I wish I felt your head on my shoulder
And I still wish I felt your breath in the night
However slight
An opportunity
There may be
For love
There’s always been a Cheshire cat within me
That with a grin and to my chagrin will spin
An imaginary web
Catching the dreams that there might have been between us
He’s so bloody serious
Unlike me
I’m really a lot of fun
Fun, fun, fun
But I still I wish I felt your head on my shoulder
And still I wish I felt your breath in the night
However slight
An opportunity
There may be
For love
Your face invades my waking hours
And in half-remembered dreams it’s your cigarette in silhouette I see
You are my green light now
So vivid yet so very far away
So very far away
Far away
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3. |
Keeping Up With Jacob
03:39
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Laughing like an old school Billy Childish, circa ’95
Moustache emerging just below the nostrils, belligerent twinkle in the eye
Tall, dark and full of a certain something, or maybe only of himself
His rational piece is not for you and I, baby, we just don’t have the wealth
Oh oh oh oh - how far will he go?
He’ll be unstoppable, and like a modern-day Rodchenko
Oh oh oh oh - oh, cri de coeur
He’s de rigueur while we’re still obscure
He dreams of colour, dreams of light, dreams of art parties through the night
He dreams of dark rooms devoid of all noise but the sound of his spectacular mind
He might win the Turner Prize - he might write truth into the murky Brighton sky
I tell you, keeping up with Jacob is such a chore
In five minits you’ll know me, or maybe in more like four
And in eight minims or more you’ll have wound up on the floor
Oh ha ha ha - peals of laughter
Fill the gallery - is this what’s become of me?
He dreams of colour, dreams of light, dreams of art parties through the night
He dreams of dark rooms devoid of all noise but the sound of his spectacular mind
He might win the Turner Prize - he might write truth into the murky Brighton sky
I tell you, keeping up with Jacob is such a chore
And if he’d read the letter that I wrote to you
He’d have simply shaken my quivering hand
And he’d have called it a work of art
A shining light in the darkness; an intervention in the banal
That in the end made no difference at all
He dreams of girls, he dreams of boys, dreams up the charm that he deploys
To render all of us subject to his grace and wit and will
Oscar Wilde himself would be perpetually a-spin within his Parisian grave, thinking
Keeping up with Jacob
Keeping up with Jacob
Keeping up with Jacob was such a bore
Such a bore
Such a bore
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4. |
A Joke About Death
03:50
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I tell a joke about death
To keep the air cool
I know that you know I’m going away
I know that you know that I cannot stay
You quake imperceptibly and bite your bottom lip
You always wanted to believe in something
Well, now you’ve got me, so go on - make me feel guilty
So just stay strong (liar, liar)
It won’t be long (liar, liar)
Until I do you wrong (liar, liar)
This is my black swan song and it doesn’t belong to anyone else but me
There’s always a mightier place that we go to
That’s better and brighter than what went before
So crack a smile for me while I compile my list
Of things to do before I die
I tell a joke about death
To reassert gravity
To pull the wool over your Bowie eyes
To pull the wool over your spaceman eyes
You’ve been hoisting me skyward - higher, much higher than I deserve to be
An apotheosis like a balloon full of hot air
How can I not even care?
So just stay strong (liar, liar)
It won’t be long (liar, liar)
Until I do you wrong (liar, liar)
This is my black swan song and it doesn’t belong to anybody else but me
The context was thin and the punchline was weak
And you didn’t laugh, no, you just blamed my mean streak
For carving a hole in which God could reside in your heart
Well, at least that’s a start
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5. |
Someday I Will Love You
04:10
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Someday
Someday I will love you
Love you like I ought to
Love you like you are entitled to
Expect of me
Just not yet
You’re in love with someone else
And that’s quite inconvenient
Someday
Someday I will love you
Love you like I need to do
Like any decent girl would have
Expected me to
Oh yes
You’re engaged to someone else
You’re not in at the moment
Far be it from me to insinuate
That your love will not last and will turn into hate
Or that you and he couldn’t become something great
You see, this is the way that I deal with defeat
With a rambling series of hypotheses
Casting aspersions on an absentee
As she unloads the van and unpacks the TV
As she uncorks a bottle of ice cold chablis
And she pours it and toasts to their marital bliss
And he smiles so sweetly and gives her a kiss
And they stay just like this
For awhile
And he holds that smile
As they kiss
Just like this
Awhile
And he holds
That smile
Awhile
As they kiss
Just like this
Awhile
And he holds
That smile
Awhile
As they kiss
Just like this
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