Pubic Intellectual



Released by Cherry Red in August 2016, Pubic Intellectual is a 3-CD, 30-year retrospective of the songs of Momus, chosen from his approximately thirty LPs by the artist himself, with a sleeve commissioned from his current designer, Hagen Verleger. A 16-page booklet contains sleevenotes written by Momus.

Lucky Like St Sebastian
(Fom the album "Circus Maximus", 1986)

Once upon a time there was a man called Saul
Who persecuted Christians until he saw
The work was bearing fruit for the Christians
So the man changed his opinions and his Christian name to Paul

And he wrote important chapters in the Bible
But the blood on his writing hand reeked to high heaven
And Paul resolved to die
So he wrote to friends in Rome
A senator who owed him a favour
Asking for an executioner
So Paul could make his exit as a martyr
The senator sent this answer:

He said "Should you be so lucky like St Sebastian
Preferring the ache to the aspirin
Swooning as they shoot the arrows
Through your narrow chest
Stripping naked in the Circus Maximus
With a martyr-eating lioness
Bartering with flesh for a little pain
Scenes like this give sadomasochism a bad name"

Once there was a man who loved a woman too much
To give up hope when he saw she wouldn't touch him with a barge pole
He spent his whole life in the Inferno
He composed in thirty-four cantos
O Dante though I'm anti such romantic speculation
I'm your hypocrite reader in the same situation
I'm your double, oh me I'm your brother in pain

But Alighieri if you'll listen there's a difference
Between your Beatrice and my Paula
She's anonymous and now a waitress
- It's comic but not divine
The tragedy is no-one's dying!

Should I be so lucky like St Sebastian
Going out with a bang, just hear me
Whimpering with joy as Mr Death receives his blue-eyed boy
Surrender unto Caesar or to God, it makes no odds
There's just one thing the martyr wants to say:
He says "Tell me, Mrs Lincoln, did you enjoy the play?"

Paper Wraps Rock
(Fom the album "Circus Maximus", 1986)

You can never overestimate Garbo
You can never undress Monroe
They may have never heard of Plato
But there's one thing they did know

If you want to be desired for a thousand years
Keeping it platonic is a good idea
"Cut it out Socrates, can't we just talk"
Scissors cut paper, but paper wraps rock

Never underestimate Mary
The original virginal bride
Interpretations may vary but I say
God was her piece on the side

Prudence is the proper doxy's friend
The paradox is heaven sent
The wickedest words are in the Good Book
Scissors cut paper, but paper wraps rock

Never underestimate the face of Helen of Troy
The face of a woman who never agrees to please
She's Paris in a drag of plaster and papyrus
That's why they never undress, they never undress
They never undress in this non-stop striptease

Never underestimate the huntress
The protected species of whore
The chariot of Diana Regina's an enormous
Limousine with bulletproof doors

It's rule number one for the wise coquette
Stick a long filter on your cigarette
Shimmer through a window that's twice locked
Scissors cut paper, Oh but paper wraps rock

Never underestimate the face of Helen of Troy
The face of a woman who never agrees to please
She's Paris in a drag of plaster and papyrus
That's why they never undress, they never undress
They never undress in this non-stop striptease

Never underestimate 'Never'
And you'll live to love another day
A woman never made a living
By giving anything away

If you want to be more major than a majorette
Stay as rigid and as frigid as a statuette
Stay out of the kitchens and the sweatshops
Scissors cut paper, but paper wraps rock

Undress your best behaviour Helen of Troy
Every Green Bus Drives Fast and so does time
Brush off the plaster of Paris
Every Good Boy, Every Good Boy,
Every Good Boy Deserves Favour, where's mine?

She will forget you in all except your name
In all except the face you wore
And the empty words you were good at saying
Or else all except the pretentious knots
That covered the paper
That wrapped up rock

Murderers, the Hope of Women
(Fom the album "The Poison Boyfriend", 1987)

With this knife I cut the cake
Who will be my bride today
Sweet Fanny Adams
Watch her climb the step ladder
A present from her stepfather
Sweet Fanny Adams
See her reaching out and stripping down the muslin drapes
A cover for her nakedness, a veil for her face
With curtains for your wedding dress
You must take your place amongst
The Proper Little Madams
And now because I love you
I must take my place too

Amongst the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
And she must take my knife

I will buy a ring of gold
And you will practise birth control
Sweet Fanny Adams
Like a puppet on a string
Of oestrogen and progesterone
Sweet Fanny Adams
This is where your misery starts
This is where your mystery stops
We'll rent a television
To replace Pandora's Box
And I will wear a business face
And you will learn your proper place
From those Proper Little Madams
And in my world of cut and thrust
I will learn that my place, my place must ....

Be with the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
And she must take my knife

In my pipe and slippers
Do I look like Jack The Ripper?
Sweet Fanny Adams
But I poisoned you with every kiss
Smothered you with domestic bliss
Sweet Fanny Adams
Underneath the suntan from the sun lamp that we bought
Your face is paler than the pale face of a corpse
And from the seventh floor of our bungalow
You flung yourself down to where they stood below
Those Proper Little Madams
But in white hair, wrinkles and false teeth
I escaped detection by the police

One of the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
And she must take my knife

Flame Into Being
(Fom the album "The Poison Boyfriend", 1987)

Now the weight of the books has crushed my delicate fingers
I'm not trying to be Paganini any more
All I dream about these days is sex with strangers
Rats in spats and bowler hats on the dance floor
Some days my head is the turret for a machine gun
And the world is torn apart by a hail of words
In tongues of fire the rookie priest reads the lesson
And I would like to quote him chapter and verse

He said "I'm in love with everyone who knows it's hard
To build a way of seeing
Who knows that nevertheless that's the only way
To flame into being"

I was always the sucker that got led into temptation
When I didn't have a job, couldn't pay the bills
But stretch me out on your tasteless warehouse sofa
And there or somewhere else I'll do your will
Maybe I'll come out clubbing on a rainy night in Soho
So many cliches have sentimental truth, don't you find?
You be Judith and I'll be Holofernes
Living with a beautiful woman
I'm jealous all the time

And I'm in love with everyone who knows it's hard
To build a way of seeing
Who knows that nevertheless that's the only way
To flame into being

So take me to the people who'll gratify my ego
Because under the swagger I don't know who I am
Caesar beware the ides of adolescence
Here comes some new Brutus in black 501s, ha!
From the pores of his skin you can smell the cappuccino
And his avaricious eyes are shining like the sun
Black bat night come down from your roost now
And cover me with your wings
Under my eyes I shall wear your engagement ring

And I'm in love with everyone who knows it's hard
To build a way of seeing
Who knows that nevertheless that's the only way
To flame into being

But as soon as I decide that this is not the place for me to stay
I feel currents that buoy me up and bear me away
And burglars or writers will carry this love away too
Don't regret this, just forget me, let me release you
And as soon as I decide I'm more fertile or just more sober
Maybe I'll think of you like a touching American film
How I left you washing the face of our baby
How whenever I live alone
My hands and eyes work again

And I'm in love with everyone who knows it's hard
To build a way of seeing
Who knows that nevertheless that's the only way
To flame into being

Yeah, I'm in love with everyone who knows it's hard
To build a way of seeing
Who knows that nevertheless that's the only way
To flame into being

Closer To You
(Fom the album "The Poison Boyfriend", 1987)

And maybe you're the Circle Line girl, trying so hard not to let on you know I'm looking at the way your toes poke out of your sandals, at funny angles to your feet, and how you know it turns me on…

Or maybe you're the Spanish girl, playing with your hair as you wait for your friend in that wild octagon of mirrors the Tate calls a coffee shop ..... And oh, I can smell that hair from here, and I can see from eight different angles the way your nipples look through that thin black cotton top, reflected to infinity ..... And oh God it's places like that and purple-tipped prose like this, that's going to haemorrhage me girl .....

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

Or maybe you're the bay window girl in Wandsworth Town, in ripped jeans and open venetians, painting the difficult corner of an empty room white under a naked bulb, leaning across the bar at the top of your stepladder at the precise moment I'm passing on the steep street at the bottom of your garden in the gathering night ..... voyeur's delight

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

Or maybe you're the foundation painter at the Central School, looking so fine-boned I could carry you home in your portfolio case, laced up gently so you won't cry out on the bus on the way home, tied up lightly, because girl, how could I knowingly injure someone with your perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite structure ..... Oh little acrylic painter, I can kiss eggshells, I can be ginger, all the critics say I'm such a sensitive singer .....

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

And maybe you're listening to my voice now, on your Walkman or your bedsit Dansette, letting my songs slip into you on this quiet night in with your pads of doodles and your fingers full of pencils and low tar cigarettes ..... And the music's light and pleasant so you hardly notice what I'm singing about in 'Paper Wraps Rock' and 'Murderers, the Hope of Women', my voice is just a sound that pleases you, enters you and leaves you just the same, and that's how I want it to stay, because, you know .....

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

But some of those are bitter records, records which accuse women, girls like you, of using your attractiveness wantonly and wilfully to trap and to paralyse men who want them and can never have them, men who sometimes feel the perverse urge to trash the women they desire the most, who imagine they despise all those immaculate visions ..... what adolescent crap, what kind of idiot would sing that? Oh, not me .....

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

But you know sometimes I think that every man who writes, every man who paints or composes, deep soul or symphonies, it makes no difference, all those men are only making do with substitutes: Solomon, Confucius, Franz Kafka, they'd never have done if they'd been as beautiful as you, sitting cross-legged there with gentle music lapping around a promise, there where your thighs meet, of fertility a million artists couldn't compete with

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

And all the time I see you there in the eye of my mind, and all that cheap macho stuff about de Sade, misogyny, vanish in thin air and I'm moved to tears just like any other sucker who's been bruised by all the things that weren't to be, and yet who's ready to fall down on his knees in front of a woman and say "Whatever you may do, whatever you may be to me, despite the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions, your conventional inhibitions, I want you to know that I respect you, I accept you and I want you to accept me, I want to kiss you, kiss your stockinged knee, accept the uniquely soft flesh on the undersides of your hips"

Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you

And when I've won you, when I've fallen down in front of you and said "Damn Franz Kafka, damn the Thin White Duke (damn the Thin White Duke), it's you and you alone I'm doing this for" ..... When I'm through with heroes and pastiche, (throwing darts in lovers' eyes), when you've let me make love to you the slowest deepest way that I know how (when you do that for me baby), when I'm lying between those legs I longed so much for and it feels so good (everything), that's when I'll think of Paul Klee's epitaph: 'Here lies the painter Paul Klee, somewhat closer to the heart of creation than usual, but far from close enough'

And girl, here I lie, far from close enough to you

A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy (Parts 17-24)
(Fom the album "Tender Pervert", 1988)

I'm jealous of the people the people I fall in love with
Fall in love with
I'm jealous of the people the people I try to be more like
Try to be more like
I'm even jealous of the people the people who hate me
Hate more
A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy, Parts 17 to 24

I'm jealous of the man the man you broke the heart of
Broke the heart of
I'm jealous of the men you knew before
In a life that I can never be a part of
There's more than meets the eye
In the way a stranger meets your eye, I know there's more
A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy, Parts 17 to 24

If looks could kill I'd kill the men
Whose looks would kill you if looks could kill
And the men who say "No competition!"
Know the competition love instils
I'm jealous of the people who ask you to ask me "Who's keeping score?"
A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy, Parts 17 to 24

Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Do you know this guy?
Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Am I in your way? Hey
Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Can't you feel how you're killing my pride?
Hey hey hey, hi hi I die every day

I'm jealous of the dangling men
You know you'll never go to bed with
I've felt the fire that fires them
I've known the unrequited love it's fed with
And I don't believe in Platonic love
But I'm still jealous of Plato
What a bore!
A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy, Parts 17 to 24

Come into my arms my lover, let me be your sanctuary
Come into my arms my lover, where you no longer have to look at me
You've been stupid enough to love someone who's hurt you a lot
I'll hurt you more
A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy
A Complete History of Complete Promiscuity
I'm writing the book on Fury and Infidelity, Parts 17 to 24

Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Do you know this guy?
Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Am I in your way? Hey
Hey hey hey, hi hi hi
Can't you feel how you're killing my pride?
Hey hey hey, hi hi I die every day

If you really love me you must love my insecurity
If you really love me, take lovers
If you really love me you must really love my jealousy
If you really love me, love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others
Love the others

The Homosexual
(Fom the album "Tender Pervert", 1988)

I love women but I'm thinking of giving in
I love women but what's the point of arguing
With the men from boarding schools and building sites
Who've told me I'm a homosexual all my life

One stop past Embankment and the coughs begin
Hell hath no fury like an insecure Englishman
You don't need psychoanalysts to translate this
'There is an open homosexual in our midst'

'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear

I love women but I take them by surprise
Pretending absolute indifference to their breasts and thighs
Like their hairdressers and dressmakers I hear confessionals
Reserved for homosexual professionals

As I put their feet in stirrups with my limp wrist
(A trick I learned from a homosexual gynaecologist)
I recall the words my first girlfriend ended our first date with
"I feel privileged you chose me to go straight with"

'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear

You who called me shirt-lifter in Chemistry class
You who sniggered "look out for your arse"
Now your women wash your shirts, now your kids are born, baby, look out for your horns

You who called me teapot, who plagued me with your bile
Guess who I've got coming to the boil
Why not grab the nettle I'll settle for being the kettle if you're the pot
I take my tea like my revenge: sweet and hot

'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear

'The Homosexual' you call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre you projected I will now pretend to be
Since your neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since your tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse you
I'll make love with your women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
That you will never hear
Never in a million years
No fucking fear

Bishonen
(Fom the album "Tender Pervert", 1988)

I was born in the town of Paisley in early 1960
And placed in the care of an old eternal bachelor
A strict disciplinarian, a passionate antiquarian
His collection of myths and legends was spectacular

As a younger man he'd been to see Japan
Where a master in a white kimono taught him
In a shining moment the myth of the bishonen
The youthful hero doomed to fall like blossom

And how could I forgive the ugly fugitive
Who brought me up according to a fantasy?
For when the old man stared at me
He drowned in evil beauty
Thinking of the early death in store for me

He taught me to be good with words, he bought me ceremonial swords
And in this way came grace and expertise
The words were to cut down and to kill the muscle-bound
The swords to fell my intellectual enemies

And women should be hated but first impersonated
Charm, he said, is essential to misogyny
He taught me how to woo the girls in order to outdo the girls
And the fun would come when I'd got them to love me

And how could I resist the old misogynist
Who brought me up according to a fantasy?
My softness and fragility
My feminine grace and delicacy
Made death himself afraid for me

And so in time I grew to be blond and beautiful
Pale and frail, with many male admirers
I was promised by my father a retainer for a partner
So loyal that nothing could divide us

Shocked by my suggestion that I'd rather have a woman
My stepfather replied I had no choice
This man would cut his entrails open protecting his bishonen
He informed me in a solemn, trembling voice

How could I disobey that surreptitious gay
Who brought me up according to a fantasy?
For when the old man stared at me
He drowned in evil beauty
Thinking of the early death in store for me

So me and my retainer encountered many dangers
On travels through the North and through the South
We ripped open the bellies of many famous bullies
And our reputation spread by word of mouth

In the mountains of Morocco we stopped and shared a bottle
With a blind old man with a bearded, bandaged face
And though the sun had sunk and the man was very drunk
He seemed to speak with my stepfather's voice

Saying "How could you forget the ageing martinet
Who brought you up according to a fantasy?
Your softness and fragility
Your feminine grace and delicacy
Will be the death of me"

Surprised at 28 to find myself so late
Changing from a boy into a man
I'm starting to feel guilty that nobody has killed me
Early as my stepfather had planned

I've found myself a girl and stopped roaming the world
My retainer's gone to be a mercenary
Now I work in a merchant bank, I'm well-liked by the senior ranks
Though behind my back the juniors call me fairy

And how can I placate the ugly reprobate
Who brought me up according to a fantasy?
For when the old man stared at me
He drowned in evil beauty
Thinking of the early death in store for me

I stay awake some nights when my wife turns off the lights
And starts breathing regularly next to me
And I think of fallen petals and bodies pierced by metal
And how I'll never now fulfil my destiny

Father spare my shame, let me pass my name
To a boy with greater beauty and more bravery
For if I have a son I'm going to raise him to die young
And lay him in the grave that you prepared for me

I Was A Maoist Intellectual
(Fom the album "Tender Pervert", 1988)

I was a Maoist intellectual in the music industry
I always knew that I could seize the world's imagination
And show the possibilities for transformation
I saw a nation in decay, but also a solution: Permanent cultural revolution
Whenever I played my protest songs the press applauded me
Rolled out the red carpet, parted the Red Sea
But the petit bourgeois philistines stayed away
They preferred their artists to have nothing to say

How did I pass my time on earth? Now it can be revealed:
I was a Maoist intellectual in the entertainment field

I showed the people how they lived and told them it was bad
Showed them the insanity inside the bureaucrat
And the archetypes and stereotypes that were my stock in trade
Toppled all the ivory towers that privilege had made
Though I tried to change your mind I never tried your patience
All I tried to do was to point out your exploitation
But the powers that be took this to be a personal insult
And refused to help me build my personality cult

How did I pass my time an earth, what on earth got into me?
I was a Maoist intellectual in the music industry

I left the normal world behind and started living in
A hinterland between dissolution and self discipline
I burned the midnight oil to build my way of seeing
A miner at the coal face of meaning
The rich despised the songs I wrote which told the poor their worth
Told the shy to speak and told the meek to take the earth
But my downfall came from being three things the working classes hated:
Agitated, organised and over-educated

How did I pass my time on earth, how did I bear witness?
As a Maoist intellectual in the entertainment business
And how was I treated in this world and in this industry?
As a Maoist intellectual in a business would be

I became a hotel doorman, I stood there on the doormat
Clutching my forgotten discs in their forgotten format
Trying to hand them out to all the stars who sauntered in
The ones who hadn't been like me, who hadn't lived in vain
I gave up ideology the day I lost my looks
I never found a publisher for my little red books
When I died the energy released by my frustration
Was nearly enough for re-incarnation

But if I could live my life again the last thing that I'd be
Is a Maoist intellectual in the music industry
No, if I could live my life again I think I'd like to be
The man whose job is to stop the men who think like me
Yeah! If l could live my life again that'd be the thing to be
The man who plots the stumbling blocks
In the lives of the likes of me!

How Do You Find My Sister?
(Fom the album "Don't Stop The Night", 1989)

The four Fs:
Find him, feel him, fuck him, forget him

I am a servant, son of servants, I was born to serve
But I know this place in life is less than I deserve
So I've become a trainer not of beasts or birds
But the beautiful sister I've raised for this from birth

Lulu is a match girl and I her matchmaker
I've taught her all there is to know about the games you can play with fire
Taught her to jump through a burning hoop in a rented diamond choker
And to balance on her nose the head of a Johannesburg broker

At cocktail hour in Mayfair, at an Isle of Dogs boat show
Lulu appears in her Dior dress and me in my tuxedo
Lulu shuts up and shimmers while I make her name known to
Key members of the board of directors of Lonhro

So how do find my sister, Mister?

Johnson was the first man to become my sister's customer
She met him at a dinner in honour of the brother of the Japanese ambassador
He stole the key to the satellite room and next to the computers
Telexes and fax machines made love to her

Her next conquest was Finlayson, Tory whip from Woking
His eyes were icy blue, he was impeccably well-spoken
He caught her with his daughter and he got her under torture
To confess she'd taught her poker
And spanked them both until his pants were soaking

So how do you find my sister, Minister?

Little by little, man by man, my sister has scaled the peak
She gets herself flushed out once a week by a quack down Harley Street
I set the prices and balance the books, sisters don't come cheap
It's a scandal what it costs these days to stop a press leak

My sister lives in Knightsbridge now and when I go to visit her
I buzz three times on the intercom and say "Lulu, it's your solicitor"
I once walked in and caught her sitting naked on top of Henry Kissinger
Take my word or take this Polaroid picture

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Henry Kissinger!

They knighted the servant yesterday, today you call me 'Sir'
You men who laid my sister I say to you now what you once said to her:
(You're surprised to hear me talk this way but stranger things occur)
"Kneel before me, kiss it, call me 'Sir!'"
"Kneel before me, kiss it, call me 'Sir!'"
"Kneel before me, kiss it"
"Kneel before me"

How do you find my sister, now?

The Hairstyle of the Devil
(Fom the album "Don't Stop The Night", 1989)

She was seeing two at exactly the same time
She never mentioned you when she was round at mine
But when you were round at hers you always made a scene
'Cause you only had ears for descriptions of the stranger she was seeing

And what she saw in me was only what attracts
The many girls I see behind their lovers' backs
But what she saw in you, I could never work it out
There was just one thing she found it turned you on to talk about

The inexplicable charisma of the rival
You said "Describe for me the hairstyle of the devil
Is he passionate? (Don't answer!)
Is he detached? (Don't answer that!)
Does he please you in the sack? (Shut up, don't answer back!)
Just tell him I'm dying to meet him"

She called me up, she said she'd had enough
Of all the paranoia you mixed up with your love
We spent the night together, she woke me up at dawn
And called an all-night taxi
And when you came I was gone

You found my comb behind her chest of drawers
She said she'd slept alone but the bed was full of hairs
And when you matched them up, beyond a shadow of a doubt
The hairs belonged the Beelzebub
And you began to puzzle out

The inexplicable charisma of the rival
You said "Describe for me the hairstyle of the devil
Does he make you laugh? (Don't answer!)
Does he earn a lot? (Don't answer that!)
Does he dress you up in black? (Shut up, don't answer back!)
Just tell him I'm dying to meet him"

The inexplicable charisma of the rival
With the luck and the hairstyle of the devil

And so you gaze at the people all about
In every stranger's face you try to make me out
And when you meet me finally your horns will lock with mine
For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time

For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time

For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time

Pleased to meet you, hope you've guessed my name
Pleased to meet you, hope you've guessed my name
Pleased to meet you, hope you've guessed my name

Shaftesbury Avenue
(Fom the album "Don't Stop The Night", 1989)

(I think you're wailing for someone
And I think he's not going to show
And there's this little place round the corner
Wanna go?)

Uptown - charcoal and braziers
Uptown - where the traffic is crazier
Uptown - where the people are racier
And the stage door is unlit

Uptown - I'm going up there just as I am
Going to dance down the roofs of the traffic jam
Uptown - 'cause I've got something that's itching me
And here's where I'm going to scratch it

Appearing in the West End:
Tottenham Hotspurs with Rolex handshakes
And crocodile sunlans
(Appearing in the West End)
JAPs and prunes, cops and robbers
Touts with faces like the phantom of the opera
Council house tarts and cocktail bars
Looking for a boyfriend
(Appearing in the West End)
Foetus in the dish, falcon down the pan
Feasts in the dustbin
(Appearing in the West End)
Gerrard Street girl watch as I go
My hungry blue eyes below your window
(Appearing in the West End)
If I could just speak Cantonese
You could be my best friend
(Appearing in the West End)

There's some greal entertainment lined up for me
On BBC1
But meet me on Shaftesbury Avenue
(Operating for fun, looking for a good time)
Sophisticated sister, so much better at life than me
Meet me on Shaftesbury Avenue
Talk to me
Dance with me
Make love with me
Make me somebody

Uptown - walking all night all alone
Uptown - through the entertainment zone
Uptown - searching for sweet oblivion
'til the bitter end

Uptown - nothing comes to him who waits
Uptown - no free lunches, no dinner dates
Uptown - got to take your chance at a back door dance
With a very special friend

Appearing in the West End:
Streatham princesses in sherbert stilettoes
And matt black toy boys who act like heroes
(Appearing in the West End)
Businessman sleaze, whips made of liquorice
No sex please: we're British
(Appearing in the West End)
Chinatown pimps and handshake whores
And Tackhead caps at the Astoria doors
(Appearing in the West End)
XR1 sunroofs open on the night
Bragging Kiss FM rapper's delight
(Appearing in the West End)
Gerrard Street girl watch as I go
My hungry blue eyes below your window
(Appearing in the West End)
If I could just speak Vietnamese
You could be my best friend
(Appearing in the West End)

There's some great entertainment lined up for me
On BBC1
But meet me on Shaftesbury Avenue
(Operating for fun, looking for a good time)
Sophisticated sister, so much better at life than me
Meet me on Shaftesbury Avenue
Talk to me
Dance with me
Make love with me
Make me somebody
Make me somebody
Make me somebody
Make me somebody

Morality is Vanity
(Fom the album "Monsters of Love", 1990)

Nobody is evil, nobody is good
All the guilty people have misunderstood
It's really nothing personal
You shouldn't blame yourself
The crimes are irreversible
The life sentence is death

So here we are again in cabaret
At the cave of the Golden Calf
Sensitive flowers stay at home tonight
We are playing for the others
The ones given to pleasures
The ones who still remember how to laugh
A problem is no problem after all
In the noise and smoke of the music hall

And if you get no joy from music hall
Remember there is always alcohol
And if you get no joy from gin
Here is the abyss: jump in!

Seven million people died in the great war
A bout of influenza quadrupled that score
Why pimp to posterity?
Why should they admire us? All the heroes of Valhalla
Weigh less than a virus

Standing on the courthouse dome
Justice puts her blindfold on
Down below the innocent are strutting
On a catwalk of shame
This year's fashion in crime will be
Less child abuse, more blasphemy
Morality is vanity
The ugly given flattery grow vain

So here we are again in cabaret
At the cave of the Golden Calf
Laughing in the face of desperation
As we spin towards the future
At one second per second
Like records on the pin of a phonograph
The future is no problem after all
In the noise and smoke of the music hall

And if you get no joy from music hall
Remember there is always alcohol
And if you get no joy from gin
Give this world a miss
Everybody sing
Here is the abyss: jump in!

Bluestocking
(Fom the album "Hippopotamomus", 1991)

I love you, you're so well read
Blue stockings well spread
Your carnal knowledge knocks me dead

I love you, you're so well read
Bluestocking give head
I love you, you've read:

Ovid, Anais Nin
The Song of Solomon
The Perfumed Garden and Georges Bataille's
The Story of the Eye
The Petronius Satyricon
The Arabian Nights, the Decameron
The Marquis de Sade's 120 Days
And Serge Gainsbourg singing songs to Sweet Jane B

I love you, you're so well read
Blue stockings well spread
Your carnal knowledge knocks me dead

I love you, you're so well read
Bluestocking give head
I love you, you've read:

Sacher Masoch and DHL
Portnoy's Complaint and mine as well
Frank Harris, The Life and Loves
Lusts of a Moron, Wings of a Dove
The Latins of the Silver Age
The triolets of Paul Verlaine
Lautreamont and G. Cabrera Infante
Mishima Yukio and Sweet Jane B

I love you, you're so well read
Bluestocking give head
Whisper what they said:

"Le silence de la chambre est profond
Aucun bruit n'arrive plus
Ni des routes, ni de la ville, ni de la mere
La nuit est a son terme, partout limpide et noir
La lune a disparu
Ils ont peur
Il ecoute, les yeux au sol
Son silence effrayante
Il parle de sa beaute
Les yeux fermees
Il peut revoir encore l'image dans sa perfection"


Ventriloquists and Dolls
(Fom the album "Hippopotamomus", 1991)

The music hall is dark, the city lies in silence
Traffic lights are changing in the distance
The radio plays Brahms
Opening the door of his Fiesta the ventriloquist
Steps out into the air beneath the stars
Rubs his hands against the frost
And tucks the dummy in her case beneath his arm

Ventriloquists and dolls
Tailors and their dummies
Moving in parallel worlds
Like wolves and little girls
Gangsters and their molls
Ventriloquists and dolls

And slowly on his painful wooden leg the ventriloquist
Clumps up the wooden steps towards his flat
A single room filled up with mannequins
And dangling from the beams on tangled strings, a marionette
And his carving's been so painstaking it looks for all the world
Like flesh and blood
Realistic to a fault, his dolls are portraits carved in wood
Of little girls

Ventriloquists and dolls
Tailors and their dummies
Moving in parallel worlds
Like wolves and little girls
Gangsters and their molls
Ventriloquists and dolls

And opening the bottle with his teeth
He pours the beer into the beerglass on the bed
Drinks it at a gulp, brings up the gas
Takes off his pants, unscrews his wooden leg
And though his face is frighteningly ugly and he takes her by surprise and very fast
The doll he crushes under him immediately agrees to everything he asks

Ventriloquists and dolls
Tailors and their dummies
Moving in parallel worlds
Like wolves and little girls
Gangsters and their molls
Ventriloquists and dolls

Summer Holiday 1999
(Fom the album "Voyager", 1992)

Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999

Pine trees in the playgrounds
Around the empty school
A diary full of diagrams
A boy, perhaps a girl
Embarrassing confessions
Of a strange, forbidden love
On the cliffs above the river
He asks himself forever

Is there any reason not to die
If this love I feel must always be denied?

Summer holiday 1999
This rush to live
Summer holiday 1999
This wish to die
This purity, as cold as spring snow
In the wind on the island of Hokkaido

Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999

I long to see your face
From every angle all at once
Just like the faces in a Cubist composition
I remember in a film I saw they scanned somebody's brain
With a machine that let you feel all his emotion
Well I know that that was only science fiction
But I'm dying to make you feel the way I feel

Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999

Summer holiday 1999
This rush to live
Summer holiday 1999
This wish to die
This purity, as cold as spring snow
In the wind on the island of Hokkaido

Cibachrome Blue
(Fom the album "Voyager", 1992)

Take a voyage through the heart of darkness
To the sound of violins
On a sleeper train across the face of the moon
Discover many things
Go transatlantic, transpacific
'Til the scales fall from your eyes
Amplify the longing, exaggerate the heat and rise

Paul at Damascus and Christopher Columbus
Only found what they knew
Close your eyes and you may find it too
RNA and DNA in a post-ethical age
Nothing is true
We move like shadows across the stage

Originator man, originator man
Make me a sun in the palm of your hand
A rising and setting sun
Deflowering, 24 hours, reflowering
Going out of fashion
Coming back into fashion
Catch the fruit as it falls for me
Hang it on the tree again

(Sunshine in the darkness)
I guess I've come to throw some shade
(Moving in the aftershock)
This time I've come to pull some weight
(Forwards through the crossfire)
We move with hands outstretched
Like the passionate forms we are
Carbon based lives born in exploding stars
(The helix and the spiral)
Transatlantic, transpacific
Four minutes and 33 seconds of love

Originator man, originator man
Make me a sun in the palm of your hand
A rising and setting sun
Deflowering, 24 hours, reflowering
Going out of fashion
Coming back into fashion
Catch the fruit as it falls for me
Hang it on the tree again

A prophet predicted a space probe
That predicted the start of a world
An impossibly remote opportunity
A flash of the dice in the game of chance
Played by a lonely young girl
Then came a messiah, a second messiah
A third messiah then another messiah
Then everything changed
Signal to noise, boys will be boys
And girls will be boys
Increment is decrement, Christ is anti-Christ
And so on and so on - to cry is to laugh
There are multiplications and variations
There is no true path

Originator man, originator man
Make me a sun in the palm of your hand
A rising and setting sun
Deflowering, 24 hours, reflowering
Going out of fashion
Coming back into fashion
Catch the fruit as it falls for me
Hang it on the tree again

Call him cut creator, originator
Or call him another name
All the basking sharks on the barrier reef
Call him The Oyster Man
He's diving for pearls, throwing them back
Watching the signs, making it new
Experimental worlds
In Cibachrome blue

(Sunshine in the darkness)
Take a voyage through the heart
To the sound of violins
On a sleeper train across the face of the moon
Discover many things
(Moving in the aftershock)
Paul at Damascus and Christopher Columbus
Only found what they knew
Close your eyes and you may find it too
(Forwards through the crossfire)
We move with hands outstretched
Like the passionate forms we are
Carbon-based lives born in exploding stars
(The helix and the spiral)
Ragamuffin boy, Scheherazade
A commonplace book of styles
Lying in the olive grove
God smiles

Voyager
(Fom the album "Voyager", 1992)

(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)
(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)
(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)

In the garden I forget who I am
There are daffodils and the motorway's jammed
And my love for you is so new
But the weather's wrong
I'm doing nothing, really not much at all
Just predictable things
Watching leaves as they fall
In the springtime in my flat
Satellites send pictures through the night
The moon is hot, I can't do anything

And I watch Voyager flying blind
Through unimaginable space and time
Endlessly on TV

I'm alone again and the Watchman is on
In a feature film I hear a beautiful song
These days I cry a lot, perhaps I try
I don't know why
I've got a newspaper, I've read it all through
The world is strange today, all the news is so good
And my hair has got so blond
As I stare at my reflections in the pond
And the trees have died
And I go inside

And I watch Voyager flying blind
Through unimaginable space and time
Endlessly

(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)

Hold me love I cannot catch my breath
This fear of love is choking me to death
I can't live without you I can't live with you
I wriggle and I turn
Tell me when will I ever learn?

When the wind blows
On the stems of the flowers
I feel sorry for them
And I fetch them indoors
And my love for you is so new
And there's so much left to do
But there are thunderstorms
And the weather's wrong

(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)
(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)

Can't live without you, I can't live with you
I wriggle and I turn
(I'm just trying to get out of the rain)
I can't live without you, I can't live with you
When will I ever learn?

I can't live without you I can't live with you
I wriggle and I turn
Tell me when will I ever learn?

Spacewalk
(Fom the album "Voyager", 1992)

We're on a spacewalk
We ride the soul train
We hear the bass talk
It's saying nothing

I want to see you
I want to feel you
I want to touch you
I want to be with you

We're in the basement
We're watching baseball
We're getting out of our heads
Were we ever in them?

We take the smart drug
So we can think straight
We take the empathy drug
And get on great

And in the wintertime
It feels like summertime
And in the summertime
It feels so strange

We ride the soul train
Just like the brothers
We dance to dead men:
Marley, Marvin, Otis and many others

We're on a spacewalk
We're walking inside
That's where the space is
That's where the love died

I want to see you
I want to feel you
I want to touch you
I want to be with you

We're on a spacewalk
We ride the soul train
We hear the bass talk
It's saying nothing

I want to see you
I want to feel you
I want to touch you
I want to be with you, oh

Platinum
(Fom the album "Timelord", 1993)

Timelord
If I told the truth I'd like to live my life again
Walk around my youth in somebody else's skin
One life's not enough for all that we contain
Nothing's going to save us now

Let's go back in time and see what bridges we can burn
Kick over our tracks on the eternal return
Throw away the facts and figures - we never learn
Nothing's going to save us now

Take me to the place where my decisions are relived
Give me answers to the question 'What would have happened if ..... '
Beyond the third dimension, beyond the fourth and fifth
In a parallel universe

Hey DJ you've got it all wrong
No more golden greats, no more platinum songs
Put these frozen moments in the fridge where they belong
Nothing's going to save us now

I don't say that life's not sad and death is not the end
Looks like you got typecast by a double-crossing friend
Looks like we were here before and we'll be back again
In a parallel universe

No regrets at least not yet is all that we can say
Stand-ins for ourselves in life's identity parade
Gone the crimes that you committed, gone the things you made
To a parallel universe

Hey DJ you've got it all wrong
No more golden greats, no more platinum songs
Put these master tapes back in the safe where they belong
We've got to live the hallelujah now

So let's go

Walk the city streets with me and cross a thousand lives
Count the possibilities that shine in people's eyes
Ask how many dreams we kill to keep our dreams alive
We've got to live the hallelujah now

Thank you for the memory, the curse you laid on me
Like a shooting star I burst into obscurity
Live this second first because the rest is history
Nothing's going to save us now

Hey DJ you've got it all wrong
No more greatest hits, no more platinum songs
Put these little shits back in the ground where they belong
Nothing's going to save us now

If I told the truth I'd like to live my life again
Walk around my youth in somebody else's skin
One life's not enough for all that we contain
We've got to live the halellujah now
So let's go

Enlightenment
(Fom the album "Timelord", 1993)

In the 1970s
When everyone could do
Just what they wanted to
Sex was like a handshake between friends
But now that life and death and destiny
Are in you when you're next to me
Tell me that you'll love me 'til the end

And tell me you'll be there
If I ever find
I've only got one kidney left
And tell me you'll be there
When I've only got one eye
And say that you'll be there to care for me
When a wheelchair is my chair
You'll be there upon the day I die

Enlightenment in the nowness of now
All we have is the nowness of now
Enlighten me to the nowness of now
All we have is the nowness of now

In the doctor's surgery
I keep my fingers crossed
Because I know the cost
This test for positivity implies
Still I do this willingly
Because I want to know what I don't want to know
Unthinkable thoughts are thoughts we have to try

So tell me you'll be there
When my head's on backwards
And my skin is turning green
And tell me you'll be there
When my brain has turned to glue
And tell me you'll still be my baby
When my guts are on the floor
And when I'm paralytic will you still be true?

In the eighteenth century
They said "We'll shortly know
All there is to know
All things will be clear to us one day"
Well I'm sick to death of optimism
Sick to death of the shit it drops us in
Will they find a cure for hope? No-one can say

But tell me you'll be there
When I'm knocked out flat
With a drip feed in my arm
And tell me you'll be there
When the swansong starts to fade
And when a life support machine
Supports me in a coma you'll be there
And when I'm just a cabbage save me from the spade

So tell me you'll be there
If I ever find
I've only got one kidney left
And tell me you'll be there
When I've only got one eye
And say that you'll still be my baby
When a wheelchair is my chair
You'll be there upon the day I die

And tell me you'll be there
When my head's on backwards
And my skin is turning green
You'll be there
When my brain has gone to sand
And tell me you'll still be my baby
When my guts are on the floor
And when I'm catatonic
I'll still be your man

Enlightenment in the nowness of now
All we have is the nowness of now
Enlighten me to the nowness of now
All we have is the nowness of now

So tell me you'll be there
If I ever find
I've only got one kidney left .....

Rhetoric
(Fom the album "Timelord", 1993)

I'll love you 'til they figure out the way that life began
I'll love you 'til the newspaper reports the fall of man
I'll love you 'til you turn into a person I don't know
I'll love you 'til the desert sands are buried under snow
I'll love you 'til the razorblades are held against my neck
I'll love you 'til the sea glows purple and the sky goes black
I'll love you 'til Mount Everest falls down into the sea
I'll love you 'til the tiny worms go burrowing in me
The lovely owl upon the bough is swooping down for me
The brambles tangle round and round far as the eye can see
I'll love you 'til the astronauts go walking on the sun
I'll love you 'til the reaper comes to wake me with his gun

I'll love you 'til the melting clocks have chimed a melting hour
I'll love you 'til the world has stopped and time has lost its power

I love you like the engine of a little blue machine
I love you like the bee that dies, dies astride a queen

Last of the Window-Cleaners
(Fom the album "The Ultraconformist", 1992)

I was the last of the window-cleaners
I was sacrificed as such
When they singled out the ring-leaders
They said I'd seen too much
But I only saw what the butler did
The chambermaid also
I only saw how the other half lived
I just washed their windows

Maybe up my ladder I got ideas above my station
Seldom if ever had a working man had a higher education
I learned to value clarity
And that knowledge is a two-way thing
That when windows attain transparency
working men get a good look in

But times are bad for window-cleaners
Worse than the 1930s
If it's not cowboys and amateurs
Who don't know where the dirt is
It's our most powerful customers
Who'll wipe us out eventually
They've lost the taste for clarity
In the late 20th century

The rich stopped wanting to see the world
They'd made it such a mess
They covered their windows with mother-of-pearl
To deflect the ugliness
It was then that the witch-hunt started
Charity fell out of fashion
It was whispered that the rich regarded
Our job with suspicion

They took away our permits
And imposed a window tax
People became like hermits
Sitting in their pitch black flats
And though we remained intransigent
And our pride in the work lived on
There was a series of mysterious accidents
And we died off one by one

And times are bad for window-cleaners
Worse than the 1930s
If it's not cowboys and amateurs
Who don't know where the dirt is
It's our most powerful customers
Who'll wipe us out eventually
They've lost the taste for clarity
In the late 20th century

I was the last of the window-cleaners
After the union was smashed
They found the corpses of the other ring leaders
Their fingers had been crushed
I received anonymous letters threatening attack
They struck at the Limehouse dock
Up drew a horse-drawn hackney cab
It was well past twelve o'clock

Out came a man with a lantern
Saying he'd come to light me to bed
Saying something to do with a chopper
And something to do with my head
But I wasn't listening carefully
I had other things on my mind
The failure of the union
The future of mankind

He spread his frock coat flat on the quay
And began positioning me there
Laid me back almost tenderly
And flourished a butcher's cleaver
I shouted past him into the dark
"We're prepared to make concessions"
But the blade he twisted in my heart
Ended my profession

But times are bad for window-cleaners
Worse than the 1930s
If it's not cowboys and amateurs
Who don't know where the dirt is
It's our most powerful customers
Who wiped us out eventually
They've lost the taste for clarity
In the late 20th century

The Cheque's in the Post
(Fom the album "The Ultraconformist", 1992)

Me and my lawyer sat down and worked out
The full cost of the wrongs I have done you
And I'm sending the money to you
The cheque's in the post

For giving you hell
When I should have been treating you well
Reparation: five hundred five pound notes in a roll

For remarks about your weight
For complaining when you were late
Compensation: two thousand pounds, the going rate

For the times we were out
And my eye kept roving about
Settling on younger women: Fifteen hundred, say it's forgiven

Running total: six thousand three hundred and fifty pounds
With tax added on
And that's just the end of verse one

For attacking your superstition
Your pantheistic new age religion
Let's say the sum of one thousand seven hundred and ninety seven

When I said your new dress wasn't splendid
When I told you the way the film ended
I guess I was wrong, accept this token: seven thousand pounds

And for passing the pictures I'd taken
Of your body totally naked
Around all our friends, let's call it a round nine thousand pounds

Running total: twenty four thousand one hundred and forty seven pounds
On its way to you
And this is just the end of verse two

Me and my lawyer sat down and worked out
The real cost of the wrongs I have done you
And I'm sending the money to you
The cheque's in the post

And for my next indiscretion
When we had sex on the floor of the kitchen
I sang it in a song: accept ten thousand - make that eleven thousand - pounds

And for failing to give enough time
To the baby that could have been mine
It's not that I don't care, my love, it's just so hard to find a figure

Worst of all I stopped loving your body
Making you feel so low
Though my lawyer says no blame can be apportioned
For circumstances beyond my control
So now I'm all paid up
And absolved from this guilt
I'm going to get another girl in
Under my quilt
And run up
Another massive debt

Hail Mary
Pray for me now
Now and at the hour of my death
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)

Hail Mary
Pray for me now
Now and at the hour of my death
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)

Hail Mary
Pray for me now
Now and at the hour of my death
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)

Hail Mary
Pray for me now
Now and at the hour of my death
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)

Hail Mary
Pray for me now
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)

The Cabinet of Kuniyoshi Kaneko
(Fom the album "The Philosophy of Momus", 1995)

Leopards prowl the studios of the Duc de Berry's great chateau
Where Cocteau's beast rehearses Beauty's rape
Lewis Carroll marks his diary with a small white stone
As Kuniyoshi Kaneko prepares to paint

Listen to the shells my darling, what you hear is not the sea
But whispering, malicious human hearts
Adults who don't wish to know the Duc de Berry's great chateau
And hate the world of childhood and of art

We who paint or photograph to stop your dying in its path
And fix you in the permanence of spring
Can't stop the prattlers prattling
The rattlesnakes who, rattling, see ugliness in every living thing
See ugliness in every living thing

The calculated insolence of little girls in sailor suits
Whose faces seem to say more than they know
Appetites and ornaments for the libertine in all of us
From the cabinet of Kuniyoshi Kaneko

Follow to the studio where Alice Liddell plays the roles
Of tousle-headed naked gypsy girls
The Reverend Charles L. Dodgson from the darkness of his camera
Preserves her for himself and for the world

Children torn by cruel desires, the handiwork of murderers
Who hack their little bodies to the bone
Somehow live to tell the tale, astonishingly fit and well
They couple in the fabulous chateau

We who paint or photograph to stop your dying in its path
And fix you in the permanence of spring
Can't stop the prattlers prattling
The rattlesnakes who, rattling, see ugliness in every living thing
In every lovely living thing

A looking glass is not a world
A painted girl is not a girl
In games there can be no forbidden things
In life remain considerate, in art the Devil's advocate
Why deny that Pegasus has wings?
In life remain considerate, in art the Devil incarnate
Why deny the siren when it sings?
In games there must be no forbidden things

So watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen go by
And mark your diary with a small white stone
Little hearts of marzipan and lacquer work from old Japan
In the cabinet of Kuniyoshi Kaneko

Watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen go by

Microworlds
(Fom the album "The Philosophy of Momus", 1995)

From microworld to microworld
Never knew which way the wind was blowing
From pretty girl to pretty girl
None of them had any way of knowing

There were others in my life
But a vacuum at the centre
I was reaching for the love I couldn't know

When I met you and you redefined my feelings
I met you and I was suddenly alive
Like the fabulous exploding of asteroids in darkness
We collide

From microworld to microworld
How was I to know where I was going
From emptiness to emptiness
Somewhere in my spirit I was dying

There were many hidden valleys
But a vacuum at the centre
I was reaching for a light I couldn't know

When I met you and the galaxy went spinning
I met you and I was pulled into the light
With the rarefied experience to guide me to the light
We collide

There were many shooting stars
Many comets burning brightly
I was searching for the fire that wouldn't fade

When I met you and the galaxy went spinning
I met you and I was pulled into the light
With the matter that is constant in its density inside me
We collide

I met you and the galaxy went spinning
I met you and I was pulled into the light
Like the fabulous exploding of asteroids in darkness
We collide

I met you and I was pulled into the light

The Sadness of Things
(Fom the album "The Philosophy of Momus", 1995)

I called you dancing queen
At the Quai des Brumes
At Kamakura you said you'd like to paint tears
On the neutral face of the Buddha
In the season of storms
We went walking in storms
Just like a video, just like a symphony
And for you, when things go wrong
They go wrong for all the right reasons
And when it gets warm you adapt with the seasons
In a world of changing colours every colour has a meaning
And the universe exists for the convenience of your feelings

And as for me
I know a different world
A world where the sea
Refuses to rage when boy loses girl

Oh I know there's comfort in sadness
But I try to distinguish these passing emotions
My unimportant existence
From the great machine of the world's indifference

Mono no aware
The sadness of things
Mono no aware
The temptation to see
The world as it ought to be
Mono no aware
The sadness of things
Blinded with tears
I can still see
My insignificance
In an indifferent universe

If I were you
If I were beautiful
Maybe the world
Might seem more meaningful
I grow old! I grow old!
As the winter comes on and the sky grows cold
But you stay as young as the rays of the sun
On the sparkling machinery you call your destiny

Mono no aware
The sadness of things
Mono no aware
The temptation to see
The world as it ought to be
Mono no aware
The sadness of things
The thunder and rain
Sharing our pain
My insignificance
In an indifferent universe

Do I dare to eat a peach?
Do I dare to walk the beach?
And if I dare to eat a peach
If I should care to shed a tear
Could I claim more for my action
Than selfish satisfaction?
(Stock mammalian reflex, biochemical reaction)

Mono no aware
The sadness of things
Mono no aware
The temptation to see
The world as it ought to be
Mono no aware
The sadness of things
As if things felt anything
Blinded by tears
I can still see
My insignificance
In an indifferent universe

Mono no aware
The sadness of things
Mono no aware
The temptation to see
Mono no aware
The sadness of things

London 1888
(Fom the album "20 Vodka Jellies", 1996)

Cellophane grandfather clock
I hope your hands will never stop
Rescue me from my ugly block
In Tokyo, 21st century
To London, 1888
I am descended from a great
Clan of the Meiji shogunate
And I am travelling extensively

It's London 1888
I sit here drinking nettle wine
My family is in decline
And I confess the fault is mine
The doorman's sure to sit and wait
To see who I'll bring home tonight
I'll pay him cash to keep him quiet
I am a libertine

Cellophane grandfather clock
You've got my conscience on the trot
You've got me walking round the block
You've got me searching for experience
Cellophane grandfather clock
I am a Buddhist, I am not
Victorian, I love your shops
But your morality is meaningless

It's London 1888
And I have learned the game of chess
I have a club, it's on the Strand
I'm a dishonourable man
And Tokyo is far away
The English wear a poker face
The latest craze is called 'Croquet'
I am a stranger here

I am the Marquis Matsugae
And I came questioning through time
But is the grave my sole reply?

And Sherlock Holmes is my good friend
I have a trust fund I can spend
And I am ready to defend
My immorality to anyone
And Whistler painted me in grey
I had his mother round to stay
And she sat knitting in her chair
And staring through me disapprovingly

And Aubrey Beardsley sketches me
And Oscar Wilde comes round for tea
But I still feel so Japanese
When I'm alone on Piccadilly
And in Green Park there is a band
Medieval lillie in my hand
I watch the sailors on the bus
A little lustfully

I am the Marquis Matsugae
I came adventuring in time
But is the grave my sole reply?

Cellophane grandfather clock
I hear you ticking while I talk
In my apartment on Pall Mall
To stable boys of easy provenance
Cellophane grandfather clock
The incense on my mantelpiece
Covers the reek of smelly socks
As I prepare them to be compromised

It's London 1888
It's 6 o'clock and I am late
For some disreputable date
With sordid appetites I hate
I hope these crimes will never stop
And like the hands upon the clock
My hands will touch and he'll respond
And go beyond

I am the Marquis Matsugae
And I came questioning through time
But is the grave my sole reply?

It's London 1888
I am the Marquis Matsugae
And I came questioning through time
And is the grave my sole reply?

The End of History
(Fom the album "20 Vodka Jellies", 1996)

Headlights cross my bedroom wall
I don't want to sleep
Restlessness and nervousness
Are my constant friends

I stayed in hoping you would call
Every night last week
Watching films on video
Time and time again

Something strange is happening
I believe the world
Is a book for which
A happy ending has been found

I dreamed I saw a city full
Of monstrous little girls
Fifty metres tall they
Crushed the buildings to the ground

I heard they put a telescope
In orbit round the earth
And with it saw an asteroid
Rushing towards us

But I'm not scared, I live in hope
For better or for worse
There must be light beyond the void
Yes, I know there must

Headlights cross my bedroom wall
I can't bear to sleep
Ever since you called I've been
So happy I could weep

The sky tonight is full of stars
Searchlights and balloons
The world is ending, here we are
Together in my room

I'll be yours and you'll be mine
At the end of history
Through the darkness we will shine
Never lose your love for me

I'll be yours and you'll be mine
At the end of history
Through the darkness we will shine
Never lose your love for me

I'll be yours and you'll be mine
At the end of history
Through the darkness we will shine
Never lose your love for me

I'll be yours and you'll be mine
At the end of history
Through the darkness we will shine
Never lose your love for me

I Want You, But I Don't Need You
(Fom the album "Ping Pong", 1997)

I like you, and I'd like you to like me to like you
But I don't need you
Don't need you to want me to like you
Because if you didn't like me
I would still like you, you see
La la la
La la la

I lick you, I like you to like me to lick you
But I don't need you
Don't need you to like me to lick you
If your pleasure turned into pain
I would still lick for my personal gain
La la la
La la la

I fuck you, and I love you to love me to fuck you
But I don't fucking need you
Don't need you to need me to fuck you
If you need me to need you to fuck
That fucks everything up
La la la
La la la

I want you, and I want you to want me to want you
But I don't need you
Don't need you to need me to need you
That's just me
So take me or leave me
But please don't need me
Don't need me to need you to need me
Cos we're here one minute, the next we're dead
So love me and leave me
But try not to need me
Enough said
I want you, but I don't need you

La la la
La la la

I love you, and I love how you love how I love you
But I don't need you
Don't need you to love me to love you
If your love changed into hate
Would my love have been a mistake?
La la la
La la la

So I'm gonna leave you, and I'd like you to leave me to leave you
But lover believe me, it isn't because I don't need you (you know I don't need you)
All I wanted was to be wanted
But you're drowning me deep in your need to be needed
La la la
La la la la la la la la la

I want you, and I want you to want me to want you
But I don't need you
Don't need you to need me to need you
That's just me
So take me or leave me
But please don't need me
Don't need me to need you to need me
Cos we're here one minute, the next we're dead
So love me and leave me
But try not to need me
Enough said
I want you, but I don't need you

The Age of Information
(Fom the album "Ping Pong", 1997)

This is a public service announcement

Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering
The age of information
It's perfectly safe
If we all take a few basic precautions
May I make some observations?

Axiom 1 for the world we've begun:

Your reputation used to depend on
What you concealed
Now it depends on what you reveal

The age of secretive mandarins who creep on heels of tact is dead:
We are all players now in the great game of fact instead
So since you can't keep your cards to your chest
I'd suggest you think a few moves ahead
As one does when playing a game of chess

Axiom 2 to make the world new:

Paranoia's simply a word for seeing things as they are
Act as you wish to be seen to act
Or leave for some other star

Somebody is prying through your files, probably
Somebody's hand is in your tin of Netscape magic cookies
But relax: if you're an interesting person
Morally good in your acts
You have nothing to fear from facts

Axiom 3 for transparency:

In the age of information the only way to hide facts
Is with interpretations, there is no way to stop the free exchange
Of idle speculations

In the days before communication privacy meant staying at home
Sitting in the dark with the curtains shut unsure whether to answer the phone
But these are different times, now the bottom line
Is that everyone should prepare to be known
Most of your friends will still like you fine

X said to Y what A said to B
B wrote an E-mail and sent it to me
I showed C and C wrote to A:
Flaming world war three

Cut, paste, forward, copy
CC, go with the flow
Our ambition should be to love what we finally know
Or, if it proves unloveable, simply to go

Axiom 4 for this world I adore:

Our loyalties should shift in view
According to what we know
And who we are speaking to

Once I was loyal to you, and prepared to be against information
Now I am loyal to information, maybe I'm disloyal to you
My loyalty becomes more complex and cubist with every new fact I learn
It depends who I'm speaking to
And who they speak to in turn

Axiom 5 for information workers who wish to stay alive:

Supply, never withhold, the information requested
With total disregard for interests
Personal and vested

Chinese whispers was an analogue game
Where the signal degraded between brain and brain
Digital whispers is the same in reverse
The word we spread gets better, not worse
Better, not worse

X said to Y what A said to B
B wrote an E-mail and sent it to me
I showed C and C wrote to A:
Flaming world war three

Cut, paste, forward, copy
CC, go with the flow
Our ambition should be to love what we finally know
Or, if it proves unloveable, simply to go

Born to be Adored
(Fom the album "The Little Red Songbook", 1998)

I was created in the fleshpots of Araby
My mother was the Emperor's secretary
My father, a notorious libertine
Escaped from Sodom and Gomorrah, the cities of the plain
You can read my family's rise and fall in Gibbon
I was born to be adored by women

Well Seth begat Clem and then Clem begat Ruth
And then Ruth begat me and all hell broke loose
The tribes all began to multiply and boom
And, looking at their kids, no-one knew from whom
The beautiful things kept springing
Well I was born to be adored by women

My hair is long, distinguished, prematurely grey
I've got a mouth like Ernest Hemingway's ashtray
I've fathered one hundred and three illegitimate kids
I've never met a mother I couldn't bed
I love children, spiders, snakes, and anything living
I was born to be adored by women

Some guys can erect garden furniture
That must be what God invented husbands for
But if you need a milk chocolate in the shape of a man
If you need a chunk of marzipan the size of Taiwan
Look up the chimney, see what Santa's bringing
Well I was born to be adored by women

Well I know I'm always late since my watch got sold
But I'm worth the wait, the weight in gold
After God made me, they broke the mould
And I've broken all the records with that old song
Bold girls are so fond of singing
I was born to be adored by women

Well my favourite bird is the cuckoo, punk
My favourite beast, the funky skunk
My favourite colour is the emerald green
Chuck the football king goes when his beauty queen
Comes to me when she's chucked him in
Well I was born to be adored by women

Well what I don't know about love technique
You could scribble in biro on the balls of your feet
I never wear underwear, I drive a dead beat
Landrover in my bare feet
Stark naked, there's always one more river to go swim in
I was born to be adored by women

Old Friend, New Flame
(Fom the album "The Little Red Songbook", 1998)

I went with a friend of mine
I hadn't seen in years
To a party
That would end in tears

He'd told me on the phone
His new lover was appealing
Beautiful and young
Probably worth stealing

I tingled to my bones
Watching my friend's new squeeze
He'd always been alone
Now he had somebody

Stuck by the fridge door
Bored by the disco sounds
I found magnetic letters
Started to push them around

My magnetic game
Seemed to draw people to me
My old friend's new flame
Came tiptoeing over to me

Satan possessed my soul
As she stood watching me
I spelled out B L O
W space M E

I saw her young eyes stretch
But my old friend's new lover
Laid, the unfaithful wretch
Her head upon my shoulder

I saw my friend nearby
Suddenly stone cold sober
No longer my friend
And ten years older

Tinnitus
(Fom the album "Stars Forever", 1999)

When Disney came to Scotland
Shooting 'Pixel Claymores'
I wanted the role of the rotten
Villain Rob McMurdo

But Tinnitus auditioned first
Some weird DJ from Boston
He's from WZBC
And he doesn't look much like a Scotsman

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker
The weaver, the cheever, the bastard
Damn it and blast 'em, they said they had cast them
And swept me under the carpet

Tinnitus replied in a synthesised voice
When I dared him to fight me at Tekken
The clash of our claymores rang through the glens
And on 90.3 FM

And was it for real or was it a dream
When I buried my steel in his belly?
Tinnitus fell, the director yelled
'Cut!' then they put it on telly

The Campbells are coming, I'm long in the tooth
Was it because my hair is all gone?
I sit on the set in a sporran and kilt
My name is Winterblossom

Gall and wormwood under my tongue
Bonnie Prince Charlie's an arsehole
My friends are dead, it's cold and wet
My name is Rob McMurdo

I'll no be taken for granted
And I'll no be turned away
I'll be back!

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Stefano Zarelli
(Fom the album "Stars Forever", 1999)

(ANGEL) - Stefano Zarelli he's an angel in the making
And he's going straight to Heaven like me

(DEVIL) - Well that's not what I've heard and as a Devil I can say the word's
That Stefano's as rotten as can be

(ANGEL) - Well he's a man of the world, Milano, California
Switzerland, Vienna, Japan

(DEVIL) - Yeah he'll go anywhere the girls can be persuaded
To have [*ðñ×ç¯÷×í&!] sex with a man

Everyone's just a mess of contradictions
And we all write fictions each day
Angels and devils are the images we use
But they don't mean shit, they just hide the truth away

Why not learn to love your contradictions?
Why not live your life to the full?
Love the snake beneath the flowers
'cause together they're the power
Of the contradictory beauty of you!

(ANGEL) - Well he loves Woody Allen and he loves a bossa nova
And he cooks a pretty good pasta sauce

(DEVIL) - Woody Allen, exactly, and the sauce is pretty spicy
Stefano Zarelli's soul is lost

(ANGEL) - He loves warm places like tropical hothouses
There's an orchestra that plays in his head

(DEVIL) - Yeah he loves warm places, like saunas and Hades
And between the legs of every redhead

Stefano Zarelli's just a mass of contradictions
Like Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde
Angels and devils are the images we use
But they don't mean shit, they just rule and divide

Why not learn to love your contradictions?
Why not live your life to the full?
Love the snake beneath the flowers
'cause together they're the power
Of the contradictory beauty of you!

Your whole life is a mass of contradictions
And you mix up fiction with truth
Love the flowers and the force
'cause together they're the source
Of the power and the beauty of you!

Going for a Walk with a Line
(Fom the album "Folktronic", 2001)

There's trouble up at Cowbell Barn
The Shadoks are going back to the moon
With rhodedendrons in a burlap sack
Resin on a hessian violin rag

Going for a walk with a line

Robert the devil witnessed the nostril
Of an elderly phoenix in a youth hostel
Playing violin up a monkey pine
In a finger painting for Dr Prinzhorn
(Psychiatrist of these parts)

Going for a walk with a line

The violin frightened Bimbo the cat
So they put on a tape of the sound of plants
Growing, little knowing
That a woodlouse would grouse

A call came in from the Empire of Numbers
A government inspector was passing amongst us
Incognito, my little female circus rider
From the Nature Theatre of Oklahoma would have to go

Rainy weather by the river
Snake paths in the grass
The child with a Chloranthemum Starbucks
Cuts class

Going for a walk with a line

Delia Derbyshire, Malcolm Clarke
And Desmond Briscoe sit in the dark
Invoking a spirit mathematician:
Phra the Phoenician

High on his evergreen reputation
Don John's under investigation
Apparently his donkey ratted on him
Because the Don frightened him out of his skin
It's a shambles, never mumble in the brambles

Going for a walk with a line

A little Italian opera queen
Is reading a book to the twitter machine
'AAAS Calcul-Geometrie
(Element 18)'

Tunis Hammamet, that conifer smell
The oriental cemetery - and there's Bill
Explaining pop music to the mentally ill
Stirring mint tea with a Lucifer match
Let's just sit here for a while and watch

Pictograms in signed porcelain
Sketches of birds, vogel skizzern
Field dynamics for sizothymes
Going for a walk with a line

What a palaver, more's the pity
Death is in Dessau buying pottery
Orienteering, you part the trees
And see three walled medieval cities
And a dragonfly

Going for a walk with a line

Meister Eckhart went into the light
And found a desert on the other side
"Children of wisdom", Goethe said
"Make fools of the fools, as one should"
That advice is good

Going for a walk with a line

Put down your line, put down your pen
A snowstorm is approaching, friend
Soon it'll all be white
It's paper in the end, and light

Pygmalism
(Fom the album "Folktronic", 2001)

Sometimes when it rains
I get pictures in my brain
My programming fails
I go off the rails
I see asteroids flare between the moons
Of Uranus:
Momus and Vangelis

And when I go wrong
Herr Professor Pig
Comes to train my brain with a song
Singing 'Daisy Daisy give me your answer do'
'How much is that doggy in the window?'
'She was only a greengrocer's daughter'
and 'The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain'

You are my lover
You are my author
You are my father
I am your daughter
I'm your disaster
I'm your viagra
I'm going to beat you at chess
Then plant my dagger in your breast
You filled me with your breath and your jism
Now I've come to bring you death, pig
Pygmalism

I only exist for Herr Professor Pig
As a figment of his huge imagination
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who is the villain of them all?
The mirror will answer back 'Narcissus'
I'm your blessing but not your possession
Even what you make can drag you down

Sometimes in the night
I sing the songs Professor Pig has taught me
Cutting up with scissors
All the stupid sexy clothes he's bought me

Though my eyes are haunted
Though my memories have been implanted
No ancestors you can trace
An accent from no place invented

Sometimes in the night
I sing the songs Professor Pig has taught me
Cutting up with scissors
All the stupid sexy clothes he's bought me

You're my creator
You're my employer
My violator
You're my destroyer
But remember that the things we whip can whip us
The ones we strip outstrip us and the ones we make can break us
You filled me with your breath and your jism
You gave me life, I give you death, pig
Pygmalism

Sometimes in the night
I sing the songs Professor Pig has taught me
Cutting up with scissors
All the stupid sexy clothes he's bought me

Scottish Lips
(Fom the album "Oskar Tennis Champion", 2003)

Because I have Scottish lips
You think you can tell me you love me
Because I have Scottish lips
You are listening hard to your glands
Because I have Scottish lips
You are dancing a fling in your knickers
Your love for my Scottish lips
Knows no bounds
It's the love that is known
The love that is known to baboons

Don't love me for my Scottish lips
But my truffles and my baklava
Grilled eggplant, delicious mint salsa
Love me for my cooking!
Don't be stupid, I'm joking
I'm only joking

Get lost if you tell me you love me
When it's all for my Scottish lips
Why don't you tell me you love me for stuff
That's a bit more important than this?
Tell me you love me in spirit
Tell me you love me in soul
Or you love me in mind
Even if it's a lie
And when I reply
Look me deep in the eye
Or at least try to look the other way

Just make sure your gaze never slips
Down to my Scottish lips

Beowulf (I Am Deformed)
(Fom the album "Oskar Tennis Champion", 2003)

I have come with my sword Naegling
And the usual aches and pains
To defeat Grendel, the monster
Lately scourge of the Danes
Showing no mercy in the mead hall
He laid waste thirty thanes
In return I will chop off his shoulder
Then I will deal with his mother

Where is the disabled loo?
I'm feeling slightly queasy, woozy
So would you if you'd had to do
The things I've had to do
Slay the good, slay the bad
Do I have the right to use the disabled loos?
Did they send the right man from the land of heroes?

Stop laughing, I am Beowulf
I give you my oath, as I was born
I am Beowulf
I am the hero coming to save you
And I am deformed

Cancer gubbins that hangs at my neck like a turkey throat
Swaddling leather trussing up a shrivelled belly bloat
Dangling from my orifice is a puzzling speculum drip
If you promise not to tell anyone I have a hare lip
A smoking hole and a very large mole
My face it slithers, my ears are torn
Don't laugh, I am deformed

Stop laughing, I am Beowulf
I give you my oath, as I was born
I am Beowulf
I am the hero coming to save you
And I am deformed

So go ahead, laugh, you won't be the first
Richard the Hundredth, the Hunchback laughed
Henry Dalrymple the simpleton convulsed with mirth
At this sick rubber joke my bones as they poke out of a hole in my skin
At this helplessly flailing mutant apalling prosthetic thalydomide limb
Have a good laugh while you're at it at my schlong
My metallic foot brace it scratches and drags
I dribble down a twig
I twitch along the ground
My Breugel boots they beggar belief
I have the stinky shanks of a hound
My patchy moustache hides a birthmark
I have come to save Denmark
Stop laughing

Stop laughing, I am Beowulf
I give you my oath, as I was born
I am Beowulf
I am the hero coming to save you
I am deformed

The Laird of Inversnecky
(Fom the album "Oskar Tennis Champion", 2003)

"I think I'd rather sleep with her with no clothes on than you in your best suit"
I said to my dummy at the Winter Gardens, Rothesay, Isle of Bute
While the manager, praying for rain, watched the £50 grey clouds
Rolling in
Knowing if it rained we'd get the crowds
Knowing if it rained we'd get the crowds

Born in Greenock, 'the Tall Drole' was known to all
Worked in the mines and the mills but ended up in music hall
Maidie played the accordion, she was 'the Small Doll'
We could bring the hoose doon, nae bother at a'!

It all seems like yesterday, though you weren't alive
The Panopticon, the Trongate, Glasgow 1935
In the name of the wee man, here comes Funny Clive
God, it made you glad to be alive

It's the Laird of Inversnecky here, aye you ken me weil
With ma cast of characters frae places that are nearly real
Cold today! Aye! That's why we're by the seaside
Everybody come
To the Aberdeen Beach Pavilion
Every single night is fun!

I began as the panto tea boy, became the canny Scot
Like a chimney sweep on a ladder to very top
Synonymous for many with my famous character
The Reverend I.M. Jolly, the morose minister

The character comedians that you may see today
Where'd they get their talent for remarkable mimicry?
It's plain to see, it came from me, I saw them scribbling away
They all laughed like crazy at my "hoity-toity ladies"

"The flag at the castle is half mast high
Let's all go down to Mackie's for a wee cup of tea"

It's the Laird of Inversnecky here, back to make you greet
The Portobello pierrots, they cannae compete
At the Aberdeen Beach Pavilion, sixteen bloody years we've run
And every single night of it's been fun!
Every single bloody night's been fun!

Life of the Fields
(Fom the album "Otto Spooky", 2004)

Your eyes are flat, the city's hot
Night falls over the barren system
Leave the cracked city block
Come back to the old religion
Throw your seed behind the plough
Throw your wine in the face of nothing

Feel the sea anemone
Children play in the rockery garden
We're all John Barleycorn
We're all one in the old religion
Meet me by the waving rye
The question mark in the scarecrow's eye

Gaelic runes and harvest moons
Shinto dogs at the phallic symbol
Mustard seed and dandelion
A time to live, a time to die
Meet me in the waving leaves
The question mark in the scarecrow summer
Meet me out by the lemon trees
Pull me down, and pump me dry

Lie back now and think of rain
In the blossom of the willow
Mastering the morning pain
Gorgeous on your petal pillow
Mustard seed and dandelion
Treading wine for the old religion

The high priest and the artisan
Piping at the gates of knowledge
Saturnine as the hammer god
Hammering, getting it on
Meet me by the waving rye
The question mark in the scarecrow's eye

Gaelic runes and harvest moons
Shinto dogs at the phallic symbol
Mustard seed and dandelion
A time to live, a time to die
Meet me in the waving summer
The question mark in the scarecrow's eye
Making out by the rhodedendron
Pull me down, and pump me dry

Lie back now and think of sorrow
The question mark in the scarecrow's eye
Mustard seed and dandelion
A time to live, a time to die

Meet me in the waving leaves
The question mark in the scarecrow's eye

Frilly Military
(Fom the album "Ocky Milk", 2006)

I'll be your frilly military lady
Your long-haired lover from France
I'll meet you at an electronic Liverpool
At an electronic dance
Wearing padded shoulders in a padded cell
Throwing phone numbers down a wishing well
I'll join the frilly military, what the hell
It's got to be good for a laugh
See you in the acid bath

Last one to the blackboard is a hairy pig
Hairy like a pig in the zoo
Bet that I can scare you in a fairy wig
Playing on a strawberry kazoo
'cause I'm the big sister that you never had
Beating up on brother making fun of dad
The best big bully that you never had
You can pull on my pony tail
If you want to spend your life in jail

Flirty's what they call me at the convent school
Dirty's what I'm called on the street
Puffing on a spliff on Alexanderplatz
Or a bergamot cheroot
Long haired lovers from Liverpool
Truckers made of sugar by the swimming pool
I'll join the frilly military, what the hell
You can pull on my pony tail
But you'll have to spend your life in jail

Wearing padded shoulders in a padded cell
Throwing phone numbers down a wishing well
I'll join the frilly military, what the hell
It's got to be good for a laugh
See you in the acid bath

Nervous Heartbeat
(Fom the album "Ocky Milk", 2006)

Crying, shiku shiku
Reluctantly, shibu shibu
Repeatedly, tabi tabi
Just in time, giri giri
Hara hara, nervous heartbeat
Kira kira, glittering sparkle
Chika chika, the flickering light of the stars
Doki doki, the hammering beat of my heart

I'm messed up, mecha mecha
But you laugh, gera gera
In the lightning, goro goro
And your eyes, pika pika
Kisu kisu by the river
Gusha gusha, that flows so slow
Zaa zaa, in the sound of the pouring rain
Chiku chiku, when will I see you again?

Widow Twanky
(Fom the album "Joemus", 2008)

So you're sweeping
Out of my world
Widow Twanky
You were my girl

Now you're flouncing
Out of my life
With not a back look, hey
Not a bad way to say goodbye

When you prick me
Do I not bleed?
When you stick me
Do you succeed?

There were times
Pantomime dame
I could've taken you down
Times I slapped you down and fucked around
And called you stupid cow
I'm paying the price for it now

You're inside me
I'm inside you
You're inside me now
What can I do?

On a road made of stone
I am walking alone as you

In the blaze of the day
I'm a pantomime dame

You're inside me
Widow Twanky
What can I do?

Hypnoprism
(Fom the album "Hypnoprism", 2010)

In the era of the hypnoprism
In the wake of the collapsing pound
I met an exquisite Algerian travel agent
With a horror of sound

I'm a little misunderestimated
I can measure up to nothing much
Give me half a chance I am a crippled tiger
And you are my crutch

I've been following a dismal gollum
Like a pierrot follows Columbine
And there's going to be a horrid harvest
When the water turns to wine

And I love you like I love the wriggly
And you lick me like a spotted dog
You're my velvet azure from Algeria
And we bone in the fog

Acts of love on astrakhan carpets
In the apartment of Salvador Dali
With a white imperial bastard colonist
Who looks a lot like me

I'm a little misunderestimated
I will give you back your piece of cake
I've only eaten one bite of it
Anyone could make the same mistake

If I give you too much information
Defriend me on the next bardo
I have a horror of communication
But I so long to know

I've got a spotty case of alopecia
I've been howling like a haunted dog
And I've been having sex in prison
Like a bone in the fog

I'm at home amongst your sombre reptiles
Basking in your garden lair
And I like to speak the words the tortoise uses
To outfox the hare

And there's a scent of candlewax on pinecones
And you look a lot like Sylvia Kristel
And I'd like to call you Princess Tenderloin
Or simply Mirabelle

I'm a little misunderestimated
And I'm older now than Erza Pound
Don't check your wallet there's nothing in it
I'll see you around

Love Wakes the Devil
(Fom the album "Thunderclown", 2011)

Love makes you dribble
And love makes for trouble
And love makes you feeble
And love makes you evil
And love wakes the devil
And love makes you trivial
Then love makes you quibble
And love makes you squabble
And that's just the good side of love

Love is a bitch
And love makes me itch
And if I were rich
I'd no longer be rich
When that beautiful bitch
Showed up on my patch
Stealing my semen
And taking my cash
And that's just the good side of love

'cause love wakes the devil
And love has no rivals
For cutting survival
When you're suicidal
And love is reliably
Unreliable
Hopelessly horrible
Tauntingly terrible
And that's just the good side of love

Love is a toothache
And love is a pain
I'd be happy if I
Never saw love again
I'd be happy to exorcise
Love from my life

'cause love makes me do such
Irrational things
And love makes a fool
Out of a king
And love is a toothache
And love is a pain
I'd be happy if I
Never saw love again
Let me show you the backside of love

Why must the spring
Ruin everything
Injecting its sting
Under my skin
Making my head spin
And making me turn
Making me flirt
With every bit of skirt
Yeah I'll show you the backside of love

Show you crimes passionel
That play merry hell
With unholy yells
In the middle of the night
Like the sound of cats rutting
The sound of bats battling
They're all sent from hell
Yeah to get my nerves rattling
I'll show you the backside of love

Love is a toothache
And love is a pain
I'd be happy if I
Never saw love again
I'd be happy to exorcise
Love from my life

Erase
(Fom the album "Bibliotek", 2012)

They said that I'd get over you
And life would go on
But I never did
And it never did

You were the only one who knew me
And now you have gone
I keep it all hid
Keep it all hid

Like a book that goes unread
In a library stack
In a bibliotek
No-one takes me out
And no-one takes me back
To my bibliotek
Bibliotek

They say it's normal
That nothing at all
Is lasting so long
Lasting so long

There was a silence in heaven
About the space of half an hour
I'll just have to be strong
Have to be strong

And no-one takes me out
And no-one takes me back
To my library stack
Reflections on damaged life
Minima Moralia
Bibliotek, bibliotek
Bibliotek

Like a book on a shelf
That's never been read
I am wasted
Untasted

You were the only one who knew
All the things that I hid
They said I'd get over you
But I never did

Bibliotek
(Fom the album "Bibliotek", 2012)

They said that I'd get over you
And life would go on
But I never did
And it never did

You were the only one who knew me
And now you have gone
I keep it all hid
Keep it all hid

Like a book that goes unread
In a library stack
In a bibliotek
No-one takes me out
And no-one takes me back
To my bibliotek
Bibliotek

They say it's normal
That nothing at all
Is lasting so long
Lasting so long

There was a silence in heaven
About the space of half an hour
I'll just have to be strong
Have to be strong

And no-one takes me out
And no-one takes me back
To my library stack
Reflections on damaged life
Minima Moralia
Bibliotek, bibliotek
Bibliotek

Like a book on a shelf
That's never been read
I am wasted
Untasted

You were the only one who knew
All the things that I hid
They said I'd get over you
But I never did

Bambi
(Fom the album "Bambi", 2013)

All men die
He is a man
So Socrates dies
I don't care
Bambi is thunderthighs
I had a whale of a time
Up Clam Mountain
Being obscene
Under the swarms of flies
In the violent skies
Of the Holocene

They say the cockroaches
Hiding under your bath
Will run the world
But I don't care
When Bambi is my girl
Extravagantly
Wearing old sweat pants that smell of piss
Discussing a book by Jocelyn Brooke
Bambi
Kiss
Kiss

When her legs are splayed
The centre of the world is damp
And you can't control
Nat King Cole or Supertramp

There are many worse ways
To spend your days
Than let them pass
Argy-bargy with Otto Rank
In chemistry class
Or be the handsome man on the catamaran
With the eyes of glass
Who cares?
Bambi, all things must pass

The Ephebophobe
(Fom the album "Bambi", 2013)

I'm accused of failing to lust after
Girls in their mid- to late- teens
In Zurich in 2046 this is seriously frowned upon
They have labelled me "the ephebophobe"
And taken the chip from my brain
And until I respond appropriately
I can't use Google again

Post-pubescent sexpots
Are lounging all day at my door
Wearing unfeasible hotpants
To tease out my desire
And I will not be a good citizen
'Til my ephebophobia's gone
Until I screw these sex kittens
I won't use Google again

O upstanding people of Zurich
Your punishment makes me sad
If I can't use Google Image Search
Things are going to get bad
Beehives, antheaps and seedheads
Are things I need to see
If a trypophile doesn't see these things
He could die in custody

System of Usher
(Fom the album "Turpsycore", 2014)

John Cage gets into the airport
But the airport is not into him
And so they agree to part amicably
And Cage takes the train into town

Ants have a system of governance
From which one could learn, I dare say
But when I get an ant on the tip of my tongue
I spit it away with a cry

I have a dear friend, Captain Harlock
And he sits at a table of wood
Lapping my words up, because he has heard that
Some words are better than food

I love throwing rocks at the tigers
As they cower in their cage at the zoo
But now that the weather is colder
I'd rather be throwing those tigers at you

An old electrician from Bremen
Took a frazzled electrical cord
Connected one end to the Devil
The other he lashed to the Lord

Everyone's murdered by Charlie
Or would be if they lived long enough
He moves in and grows in the holes of your nose
And sooner or later you snuff

This is the problem with dreamers
They're all sitting safe as a house
For all the world, sirs, as the earthquake occurs
As if butter would melt in our mouth

The fall of the system of Usher
Was achieved by a triumph of will
The clown as a proxy for Mother
And Daddy takes care of the bill

The loneliness of Kaspar Hauser
Strange thoughts occur in the brain
If you want to stay strong, make up little songs
To stop you from going insane

So John Cage gets into the airport
But the airport is not into him
They agree that it's key to live separately
And Cage takes the train into town

And everyone's murdered by Charlie
Or would be if they lived long enough
He moves in and grows in the holes of your nose
And sooner or later you snuff

The Hiker
(Fom the album "Turpsycore", 2014)

Insisting on hiking "commando"
He claims for the sake of his health
Everyone knows that wherever he goes
The hiker is pleasing himself

Dressed up in sackcloth and ashes
In memory of his late wife
Whose body is strapped to his bicycle
Flying behind like a kite

The hiker's real name is Frank Randle
His grey hair pinned up in a bun
Flopping in sandals away from his scandals
The hiker is having such fun

The pollen beneath his proboscis
The snuff in its pouch on a string

The hiker's erecting his tent now
His fucksack spread out on the ground
He seems to be thriving though winter's arriving
And death tags along like a bloodhound

The black girls sit up in the branches
Swinging their legs in the rain
The filthy old hiker is down on his bike
Pumping his organ again

Munching a bar of black chocolate
Swigging the tea from a flask
His frankly disgusting appendage is thrusting
Out of its Elastoplast

Amongst nettles and shrubs and deciduous trees
In a hammock he's made with his dick
He is a force of nature of course
His rotting wife strapped to his back

The pollen beneath his proboscis
The ghost flying high on her string
The hiker must reason no matter what season
For him it's eternally spring

The hiker's real name is Frank Randle
His grey hair pinned up in a bun
Flopping in sandals away from his scandals
The hiker is having such fun

The Manticore
(Fom the album "Glyptothek", 2015)

Let us speak of my prick
Let us speak of my big dead dick
His plucky fight against arithmetic
My advancing age has set the stage
My dick is dead
My big dick is dead

Like a great beached whale
He lies upon the shore
Of my beach-like bed
I can even hear him snore
What does he dream?
Of all the cunts he's seen?
With his single eye
His beady eye?

I will bury him deep
In a hole of human flesh
In the cunt of a cheap
Grudgingly willing wench
That's the only place
He's gonna rest in peace
For the sake of me
And humanity

My big dead dick
Was dragging down this world
He was making me sick
Polluting every girl
Spreading his wild oats
Where there should have been corn
He'd be better off dead
Or maybe making porn

Let us speak no more
Of that atrocious bore
That egomaniac
That manticore
Which devours a man
Leaving not even a bone
Or belonging behind
Nor did he leave mine

The Art Creep
(Fom the album "Glyptothek", 2015)

The art creep is looking nice today
Interesting anyway
Appropriating ethnic dress
With the context stripped away

At the Shinto shrine festival
The Japanese are doing their best
To act as if he isn't there
They're always so polite

He's filming with his camera
He plans to take this beat away
And work it up into a song
Which other creeps will play

And he'll hardly tell them anything
About the rhythm's origin
But he might whip up a video
In which he dances stupidly

The art creep is looking nice today
In his amusing selfie
He's not doing any harm
But the god is moving on

Masks of Bebko
(Fom the album "Glyptothek", 2015)

Time travel, the avant-garde, sex and ancient Rome
I was walking down a road towards a lighthouse in Japan
When I passed a man wearing the mask of a black horse
And followed him astonished to an old abandoned fort
A group of alien immigrants had pitched their camp up there
Playing wild guitars and making images with fire
Hiding their identities with fur and wood and glue
Each wore a mask of Bebko and now I wear one too

The man wearing the horse mask really frightened me
I sensed that he was luring me to a place I shouldn't be
And then down by a rockpool, as I walked back to the shore
I glimpsed my own reflection and the horse's head I wore
I understand the whole thing now but it's too late for me
Never play with aliens or with your identity
I tell you this to save you, if you know what's good for you
Shun the masks of Bebko, or you will wear one too

The Vaudevillian
(Fom the album "Joemus", 2008)

You take the stage, you're at your best
They've hushed the stalls at your behest
You start your act, you sing your songs
The house is packed, they sing along
You seem, they say, so very gay
The vaudevillian, one in a million

The girls you've loved, the times you've known
The wars you lost, that old trombone
And now the lines that crease your face
Are wet with tears and hot with grease
You know your lines, but God knows what they are
The vaudevillian, one in a million

You're out of date, they've changed the styles
They love to hate, they hate to smile
They start to stamp, they start to boo
You're some old man, they don't know who
You've lost your shape, you've lost your "you"
The vaudevillian, one in a million

A coffin now appears, it's very strange
They've put it here up on the stage
They push you in, the trim is plush
It's very grim, away you're rushed
And some lament while others disinfect
The vaudevillian

And now you take a little nap
And when you wake the stars are black
And God is dead and there's this smell
And you're not feeling very well
It seems you're dead, oh bloody hell!
The vaudevillian, one in a million


Index