|
Smokerings are floating in the clubhouse
Trophies all lined up on the walls
Big shiny eyes stare you down and criticize
A twelvebore can be a powerful thing
You know it will chain your hands together
You know it will nail you to the floor
Day after day, deepsea divers choke and sway
Dogma can be the wildest thing
It's behind you, standing there behind you - as plain as plain can be
It's behind you, standing right behind you - stroking a goatee
It's behind you, standing there behind you - high up on its toes
It's behind you, standing right behind you - a finger up its nose
Mr Montero
Fuddwits are whispering in the clubhouse
Grapevines are climbing up the walls
Titbits and lies scratch your back and vilify
A driveller can be a powerful thing
You know it will rip apart your lovelife
You know it will bore you to the bone
Year after year, forklift drivers frown and sneer
Failure can be a furious thing
It's behind you, standing there behind you - a predator waylaid
It's behind you, standing right behind you - sharpening a blade
It's behind you, standing there behind you - don't look the other way
It's behind you, standing right behind you - sporting a toupee
Mr Hemingway
You feel like you've slipped through a crack in the ground
Hold me down, hold me down
Bones and skulls are dragging you down
To the ground, to the ground
Through stones and skulls to petrified layers
Hold me down, please hold me down
Where cold and damp won't calm the fear
To the ground the stony ground
Please hold me down
You know it will kick you in the bollocks
You know it will nail you to the wall
Time after time, lone survivors turn to slime
Patience can be a stifling thing
It's behind you, standing there behind you - jaw hanging wide
It's behind you, standing right behind you - better run and hide
It's behind you, standing there behind you - opening a tin
It's behind you, standing right behind you - slavver on its chin
It's behind you, standing there behind you - tooled and set to blast
It's behind you, standing right behind you - that shadow from the past
Mr Self-possessed
Holding up a glass
Ready to slake a thirst
|
|
Guess what you think his name is
Says Peter
Have a try
Question him about his doggy handle
He'll tell you Ralph, always Ralph
He'll tell you Ralph
Ask him anything
Eternally Ralph, he's got soul
And ghostships from the past are waiting
Waiting there for me
Speaking loosely he dug me out
Says Peter
Of my rut
Anything I need I just call
He brings me bones, maybe a friend
He brings me old bones
I don't get out much
Everlasting Ralph, he's got soul
And ghostships from the past are waiting
Waiting there for me
Peter and Ralph, just good friends
One man and his dawg
Helping each other through the years
Peter likes Ralph, Ralph likes Peter
That's the way it goes
Fetch boy!
A digging fool is Ralphy
Says Peter
You might guess
Earthy excavations are his thing
It's what he does best, digs well does Ralph
It's what he does best
It's how he found me
Eternally Ralph, he's got soul
And ghostships from the past are waiting
Waiting there for me
And ghostships from the past are waiting
Waiting there for me
And ghostships in full sail becalmed
Shimmering and fading
Easy does it boy
|
|
Do you ever feel your life is one long night
Darkness following darkness no more light
Blackout curtains everywhere you go
A darkroom for a patio
Do you ever think your world is just too flat
Lifeless as a turned-off bureaucrat
Movement a shrivelled-up desire
Facedown in the trash with the flyers
Science is as science feels
Breaking butterflies on wheels
Slide across the laminate
What you see is what you ate
Laggy-bands, a stethoscope
Petridish and a bar of soap
Battenberg, chicken thighs
Two brass balls and a nobel prize
Do you ever feel that time is one long wait
Nothing turning up but an empty crate
Falling off the wagon with a crunch
All the bits and pieces out to lunch
Do you even think it's all a waste of space
Unnatural selections in a case
A twisted form unfolding on a twig
A pig in a Steve McGarrett wig
Dozy does, dozy don'ts
Dozy wills and dozy won'ts
Dozy ones, dozy pairs
Dozy fuckers everywhere
Send you scrambling up the wall
Through the trapdoor in the hall
In among the fibreglass
Blowing bubbles out your arse
Looking here, looking there
Looking through your underwear
Looking in, looking out
Looking like a layabout
Looking up, looking down
Looking like a wasted clown
Looking left, looking right
Looking like you're full of shite
Looking hot, looking cool
Looking like a broken tool
Looking fat, looking thin
Looking like a rusty tin
Looking rich, looking poor
Looking like a frosted door
Looking bland, looking grey
Looking like a ghost today
Looking for needles in hay
Do you ever wake up with the wombats in your mind
Ravaging the memories they find
Digging through the postcards and snaps
Chewing up the letters and maps
Running near, running far
Thoughts are running cross the yard
Down the street and into town
Better turn those taities down
Neurons firing overtime
Turning water into wine
Hand-in-hand and at the gate
Garibaldis on a plate
Sunny day, O so fine
Washing drying on the line
Just one thing to say to you:
Blah-blah blah-blah blah-blah boo!
|
