Ten Years in an Open Necked Shirt
Page 3
fucks all day and sleeps alone
just a tiger rug and a telephone
says a post-war glamour girl’s never alone
in the seventh heaven on the thirteenth floor
sweethearts’ counterparts kiss
limbo dancers under the door
where the human dynamoes piss
adults only over her pubes
debutantes they give her dubes
beatniks visit with saxophones
and the way she eats that toblerone
says a post-war glamour girl is never alone
mau mau lovers come and go
dreamboats leave her behind
in a baby-doll to go man go
on the slopes of the adult mind
a murder mystery walk-on part
a dead body or a gangland tart
near the knuckle close to home
criminal connections you can’t condone
a non-doctor’s anonymous drone
says a post-war glamour girl’s never alone
that section of the populace
they call the clientele
the moguls of metropolis
defenestrate themselves
in the clothes of a rabbit
you develop a twitch
one of the little sisters of the rich
amorous cameras clamour and click
her rosary beads are really bones
rebel rebel they bug your phone
the post war glamour girl’s never alone
yes there’s always a method actor hanging about
there goes mr tic-tac out the back
with some bric-a-brac from the knick-knack rack
the dumb waiter reminds you of home
and the nice boy from sierra leone
the action painter’s got up and gone
nevertheless it’s never been known
for a post-war glamour girl ever to be
what you could call
irrevocably
alone
full-time loser
stop that horse
he wears my shirt
regret remorse
o how they hurt
i knock on doors
they turn to dirt
always the beggar
never the chooser
half-clever
full-time loser
from the slumberland
that time forgot
to the wonderland
of a spineless clot
who understands
who calls the shots
you might know
it’s another user
part-time poet
full-time loser
the new assassin
skip the roadblock here she comes
get a load of the pretty blue gun
any slick trick under the sun
she’ll do it if it isn’t done
she made arrangements she couldn’t come
she dresses like a secretary lives like a nun
your crime is her radiant passion
it’s time for the new assassin
cool killer top of the class
the other side of the shatterproof glass
works fast as the cameras flash
with the cyanide cigarettes and cs gas
it’s her job doesn’t bat an eyelash
she’s working for the perishing mass
the breadline’s back in fashion
it’s time for the new assassin
a melody played on a hand grenade
from the rifle range in the green arcade
as the rain fell down on the big parade
messed up the motorcade
mucked up the masquerade
secret weapons become displayed
in the hands of half a dozen aides
just four men and a couple of gay blades
shantung suits and shatterproof shades
shoot up anybody who happens to be passing
everybody but the new assassin
one link in a human chain
in the city where it always rains
no profit or personal gain
are the silent rules in a lonesome game
one face in a purple frame
a black border round the name
chalk marks around a blood stain
thin blue line red light flashing
it’s time for the new assassin
what time did you see it happen
it’s time for the new assassin
the it man
look who it isn’t it’s
the it man maybe
the physical description fits
it man baby
you like the julius caesar haircut
middle market leisurewear but
don’t let him be your teddy bear
it man baby
you want women wall to wall
it man got
meet the man who started it all
it man got
what’s it to be then john
a brunetto or a bleeding blonde
or the telltale tongue of a 2-tone taste bomb
he’s the kiddy coming on
like the it man baby
take the sugar round the slums
it’s a mug’s game
take some bugger for a lump sum
and bugger off to spain
it’s an endless stream of fizzy drinks
for it man
whose dentures gleam like digital cufflinks
it man baby
who drove the van
some all purpose also ran
when the shit hits the fan
whose gonna carry the can
for it man
he’s after all your stuff
his motto is receive
too much is not enough now
let’s not be naive
drip dry zip fly
it man kiss the girls and make them die
it man baby
underneath that yellow shirt
beats a heart of solid dirt
the most disgusting man on earth
it man baby
no back chat was ever written
for it man’s tart
the cute cat was a stiff kitten
it man took her apart
he stuck her with a poison pen
next thing news at ten
ladies and gentlemen
it man
well well bloody hell
it man
checking you out and ringing your bell
you’d better quit man
he’s walking around taking names
looking for money in the burnt remains
all good stories finish in flames
for it man
evidently chicken town
the fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chiefs a fucking swine
who fucking draws the fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
the fucking kids he fucking blames
are nowhere to be fucking found
anywhere in chicken town
the fucking scene is fucking sad
the fucking news is fucking bad
the fucking weed is fucking turf
the fucking speed is fucking surf
the fucking folks are fucking daft
don’t make me fucking laff
it fucking hurts to look around
everywhere in chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you’re fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town
the fucking view is fucking vile
for fucking miles and fucking miles
the fucking babies fucking cry
the fucking flowers fucking die
the fucking food is fucking muck
the fucking drains
are fucking fucked
the colour scheme is fucking brown
everywhere in chicken town
the fucking pubs are fucking dull
the fucking clubs are fucking full
of fucking girls and fucking guys
with fucking murder in their eyes
a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
waiting for a fucking cab
you fucking stay at fucking home
the fucking neighbours fucking moan
keep the fucking racket down
this is fucking chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you’re fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town
the fucking pies are fucking old
the fucking chips are fucking cold
the fucking beer is fucking flat
the fucking flats have fucking rats
the fucking clocks are fucking wrong
the fucking days are fucking long
it fucking gets you fucking down
evidently chicken town
the day the world stood still
deafening whispers loud and clear
the sound of nothing reached my ears
i get the message and i know the drill
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
no traffic noise or sparrows trill
from the dead flowers on the window sill
this is the day the world stood still
into the mirror stand and stare
like i figure nobody there
time to spare time to kill
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
from the underground to the overspill
no trouble not even at the mill
this is the day the world stood still
specs of dirt and static flies
in spacelike spots before my eyes
a cup of coffee and a couple of pills
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the big freeze-up gimme a chill
no sense in feeling ill
this is the day the world stood still
i got a whole town to myself
i clear the drugstore shelf by shelf
i couldn’t pay i had my fingers in the till
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
drink and drugs and a thousand thrills
from now on it’s straight downhill
this is the day the world stood still
i’m falling from the top of my voice
i wreck the vehicles of my choice
a rolls-royce a coupe de ville
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the last train to Clarksville
ran off the rails nobody killed
this is the day the world stood still
i’m driving in a company car
i’m jiving in the tango bar
i’m dining at the luxury grill
this is the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
the day the world stood still
no trouble not even at the mill
at the end of the day i pay no bill
this is the day the world stood still
i travel in biscuits
the sound of the daylight
the smell of the urine
the rain on the drainpipes
the filthy two-two time
i should know better
how an animal feels
a real go-getter
a wolf on all wheels
white collar whizz kids
button three mohair
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere
munchety munch
this is the punchline
crunchety crunch
they last you a lunchtime
who can resist it
who can be so square
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere
can you afford it
this is the crunch
orders are audits
a kiss or a punch
a dangerous neighbourhood
don’t push it too far
i feel like i’m made of wood
i stay in the car
i have to risk it
i have to go there
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere
they keep their crispness
more than just one day
got some for Christmas
ate them last monday
if you resist it
i’m gonna go spare
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere
the critical daylight
the smell of the urine
the rain on the drain pipes
the filthy two-two time
life is precarious
a long way from home
in alien areas
always alone
i look like a misfit
no one i know there
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere
salome maloney
i was walking down oxford road
dressed in what they call the mode
i could hear them spinning all the smash hits
at the mecca of the modern dance: the ritz
feet foxtrotted shoulders did the shimmy
the bouncer on the door said gimme gimme gimme
i gave him the ticket he gave me the shits
no healthy argument it’s the ritz
standing by the cig machine who did i see
in lurex and terylene she hypnotised me
i asked her name and she said it’s
salome maloney el supremo of the ritz
lacquered in a beehive her barnet didn’t budge
wet-look lips smiled as sweet as fudge
she had a number on her back sequins on her tits
the sartorial requirements for women in the ritz
a man making like fred astaire spats and tails
douglas fairbanks moustache dirty fingernails
whose chosen vernacular was subtle as the blitz
charlie macdracula the phantom of the ritz
standing in the dandruff light trying to get pissed
among the headlice old spice brut and bodymist
how could she be seen dead dancing with that prick
and her being salome el supremo of the ritz
a smart move a dangerous curve
sent him arse over bollocks with a body swerve
he started with a cartwheel finished in the splits
leaving salome with his toupee in her mits
tables flew bottles broke the bouncers shouted lumber
the dummy got too chummy in a bing crosby number
the glass globe dropped chopped the crowd to bits
meanwhile what about salome of the ritz
when the ambulances came she was lying on the deck
she fell off her stiletto heels and broke her fucking neck
the band threw down their instruments the management threw fits
she’s dead she don’t bring the business to the ritz
the over twenty-one’s night said it was a shame
the divorcee club will never be the same
joe loss kills himself and vic sylvester quits
when the death dance drama did away with the ritz
the last waltz wilts the quickstep stops
the ladies�
� excuse me was permanently blocked
and mecca make a living selling little bits
of salome maloney in the wreckage of the ritz
midnight shift
there’s a body in the basement
the tv’s full of guns
in the room adjacent
cold water runs
the sound of the cisterns
sizzling bacon or chips
footsteps in the distance
she’s working on the midnight shift
the room is getting colder
start jumping jack
you’re the bluebird over her shoulder
the monkey on her back
she left your taxi fare
there’s a message in her gift
you got more than she could spare
she’s working on the midnight shift
feedback screams on a twisted riff
luxembourg by night
the cheapjack dream of the midnight shift
doesn’t work out right
he’s got to shoot he’s got to shoot
put his face about
it’s like a long abandoned baseball boot
with the tongue hanging out
the perfume of the essence rare
that lingers in the lift
he’s a prince among the peasants where
she’s working on the midnight shift
you’re gonna find her stuck in the lift
to the wonderland of vice
you’re gonna find her on the midnight shift
with feet like blocks of ice
she carried water for the mailman
she had to walk the streets
she married the door-to-door salesman
who worked away all week
she lived with an empty chair
until the final rift
she didn’t have a thing to wear
she had to work on the midnight shift
you’re gonna find her frozen stiff
you think you been hurt
you’re gonna find her on the midnight shift
standing in the dirt
you like to put yourself about