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DAVID (additional words and chords Paul Clark (Pondlife)

David, we have strange neighbours

So our hard labours go almost unnoticed

People see I smile at you when you say we’re coming through,

There are sentimental reasons, David, why you’re coming too.

That’s why we’re taking over

5.4.3.2.1.

Hands off the wheel, pull over,

It’s time for resolution.

We’ve emptied out our hearts ,

we’ve burnt the baby, we’ve burnt the book

with these sentimental dealings, David,

I thought you ought to know

So try, try again

It’s really going to happen soon.

Journey’s almost over now,

It’s good, It’s good.

that’s why we’re taking over

5.4.3.2.1.

Hands off the wheel, pull over,

It’s time for revolution.

David said how lucky we are,

Just the open road and this fine old car,

Desdemona, born in Gothenberg,

Making easy with the corners and curves.

Norah Drenaline and Sara Tone in the back.

Who needs this crack when we’ve got this crop?

Cut the crap. It’s Surrey with a trip up top.

David said how unlucky we be,

only chemicals can set us free.

No sea breezes in the morning light,

Only wheezes and blurred eyesight.

Norah Drenaline and Sara Tone answered back:

"Who needs this crack when we’ve got this crop?"

Cut the crap. It’s Surrey with a trip up top

CHEAP NOVELETTE

I wait.

We wait around

this sombrous, rusty town,

no screwing

worth doing.

In bars

the whole day long,

a blood-stained honky tonk nude rhythm.

Don’t listen.

In the gloom of Harlequin St.,

acid rain never stops.

Like a skewer of steel and steam,

like boiling snails, the juggernauts scream

in and out of this scene.

The broken neon shines

in the squalid, wet roadside

where the midnight whores survive.

Any price

Any line.

Corrupted, dying town.

No elegance around.

Just cars,

television.

And off the streets of shame,

no rhyme,

no reason,

just religion,

derision.

Spot the mayor’s wife on the slink,

strutting over the street.

She’s been mixing too many drinks.

A woman’s not safe on these streets on her own.

Nobody knows.....

The fat cocaine dealer’s face

blows up as he follows the chase.

The sex criminal’s on the case,

of her face,

her rich rich face.

Black Marias are back in style

Kinky Mike’s running a mile

class enemies up on bile

fair dos fair dos

cheap meats and novelettes

sweetmeats for the vicious set

daddy dancing on a pink Corvette

fair dos fair dos

COLIN

I remember the face of my hard friend Colin

Steel-sprung neck

when the bolt shot from it

and quick!

Made me sick

If I’m honest.

His sorry victims were always late,

laid out on the cold stone floor to wait

and shiver, lest

the hovering fist

should follow

(and it did).

No call for the doctor,

the doctor was there,

Doctor Martens.

Don’t interfere,

pretend that he had it coming

from afar.

Like Frankenstein, appears in dreams,

the night walker, I wake in screams,

the horror of his violence

haunting me.

Surely, surely he wasn’t bad

Just solved his problems the way he had

been madly,

so sadly

inspired to do.

Young man,

you had us all behind you,

Afraid to calmly walk beside you.

So lonely

So lonely

So lonely

So lonely

Colin.