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06.07.2010
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"St Christopher Is Coming Home"

"St Christopher Is Coming Home"



Monday morning, comes a crawling in
From another weekend choked with cigarettes and sin
I've been busy, so much lately
That every time I get some time to spend
I end up drunk or sleeping in
And I miss you, you're busy too
We call each other up, when we're messed up
And say we'll meet in the New Year
But it's perfectly clear we'll do no such thing
Come the spring

When the evening casts it's shadows on the corners of my days
And I am old and I am settled in the place where I will stay
When my wandering meanderings have finally reached their end
Yeah whatever else maybe I will not forget my friends

Friday evening, barely even begins
Before my phone begins to ring with people asking where I am
And I can't suppress a smile, we talk a while
The chances are that I am far away and so I'm phased out of the plan
And that's how I miss out, on another night
The kind of night where nothing really happens
Yeah but everything goes down
And at the end I'm just a promise to pick up the phone
When I'm in town

When the evening casts it's shadows on the corners of my days
And I am old and I am settled in the place where I will stay
When my wandering meanderings have finally reached their end
Yeah whatever else maybe may my friends remember me
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Substitute"

"Substitute"



The first girl that I fell for was a fair and faithful fighter
She smouldered with a will to save the world
I did my best to help her, yeah I stood shoulder to shoulder
On the front lines with my visionary girl

I wish that she had cared for me
But in the end her ideologies
Occupied the fortress of her heart
I wrote her 15 songs, but still we had to part

And if music was the food of love
Then I'd be a fat romantic slob
Well music, it's my substitute for love

The last girl that I loved she was a low and lusty liar
She set my heart on fire, but made me choke
Her beauty was a sight to see, but she didn't save it all for me
I found other fires by following the smoke

I wish that she had either cared for me or
let be me
But she chased me from mind and from my home
I wrote her 16 songs, but I ended up alone

And if love is really all that we need
Then even all my singing is never gonna save me
Music it's my substitute for love

Well I've had many different girls inside my bed
But only one or two inside my head
These days I cuddle up to my guitar instead
But oh, what I would give, not to stumble but to really fall in love
And I could substitute my singing for the sound of someone sleeping next to me
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Sunday Nights"

"Sunday Nights"



Sunday nights are slow surrender.
It never lasts and we never learn.
We can still make this one to remember.
It’s Sunday night and we’ve time to burn.
Tomorrow morning can wait its turn.
So charge your glasses and raise a toast to the memory gained,
to the sleep that we lost.
Another weekend run to ground,
another passing coat of red painted across our town.
Work is shallow, cuts are deep, but who would waste two days respite?
You can’t catch up on sleep.
So here we are, last chance saloon,
the ticking clock and a slow defeat, it’ll all be over soon.
Once more friends unto the breach, bleary-eyed,
the stuff of dreams always slips out of reach.
Defiance dressed in crumpled clothes,
protest played out with a headache, starting late and going slow.
So though we know we have to be here,
we have tasted freer air, so we don’t have to care.
All our days will fade away in hazy nights and clear mistakes.
So here’s to us and needs that must.
Let’s raise a toast for one last boast
because it’s Sunday night and we’ve time to burn.
Tomorrow morning can wait its turn.
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
30.266
"Sunshine State"

"Sunshine State"



I remember the day - the day when I had to take you to the airport
And put you on a plane, and so you left me.
Left me alone on an empty tube train, deep under the ground,
While you were bathed in sunlight, high above the clouds.

I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town.
California's had more than its fair share.

You left me to these small skies, and to rain-soaked concrete,
To Morrissey and Robert Smith and complicated streets I know,
On which you lost your patience and your way,
The way you always did on steel grey rainy days.

I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town.
California's had more than its fair share
Of beating summer sun and shining seas,
But it doesn't have a shred of honesty.
I know the truth - yeah, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell were Canadians.
I guess that makes sense - they had their fill and then they moved away again.
You're not alone, we all sometimes use words that we don't understand.
Your "love" was only just skin deep and in the end it gave me cancer.

You might have been my sunshine, but I'd rather have a rainy day.
California gets just what it deserves.
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Sweet Albion Blues"

"Sweet Albion Blues"



I came down from Newcastle town
To the part of the south coast that I love the most.
I was stretched out tight after a couple of nights
Going crazy in Glasgow, I think you all know how that goes.
I needed some peace, somewhere to stand still,
Through the Cotswold hills down to Portland Bill,
And to charge up my batteries for next weekend,
Where I'd be cruising through Cardiff and ending up in Southend.
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit in your travelling boots.

I met a guy from Cornwall who'd never left the county,
I told him about the big smoke, I don't think he believed me.
I told him about the scene along the south coast to Kent,
Across the estuary to East Anglia, and then I think he knew what I meant.
A man is bored of life if he's bored of these islands,
All creation is here from Hythe to the Highlands.
The Black Country witnessed my basest predations
And the road up to Hull is paved with wicked intentions.
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit in your travelling boots.

All across the hills and valleys,
From the A roads to the seas,
The suburbs lead up to the cities,
And that's where you'll find me.

Go mad in Manchester, wind down in Winchester,
Roaming the home counties, where the parties are free,
Circling London like dirt round a storm drain and
Somewhere near Holborn's the heart of the beast.
Don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit in your travelling boots.

Sweet Albion around me, everywhere I go,
Sweet Albion surround me, you're everything I know.
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Tattoos"

"Tattoos"



Oh it's payday, yes it's payday
I got my pay cheque from the man
There's not so many jobs that I can get these days
With these marks all over my hands
But I'm gonna take that cheque
I'm gonna head across the track
To the wrong side of this town

I'm gonna open the door
I'm gonna bask in the roar
Of that familiar buzzing needle sound

Because the ink in my skin
Where the needle went in
However many years ago
Has left marks on my arms
And they say who I am
Everywhere that I go

Some people have one and
Some have one that they're ashamed of
Most people think that we're fools
Some people don't get it and
Some people don't care
And some of us we have tattoos

Oh it's fading, yes it's fading
Some of the things that I believed back then
Yes my skin has started sagging and
The ink has started running
And I've got buddy tattoos with people
Who aren't friends
Oh I've even got black x's from when I was straight edge
So crack open a beer friends now
And let's make a pledge

If we had the luck to live our lives
A second time through we'd be sure to get the same tattoos

Because the ink in my skin
Where the needle went in
However many years ago
Has left marks on my arms
And they say who I am
Everywhere that I go

Some people have one and
Some have one that they're ashamed of
Most people think that we're fools
Some people don't get it and
Some people don't care
And some of us we have tattoos

We've got hearts for the lovers
And playing cards for the gamblers
Black flag bars for the punks
And sailing ships for the ramblers
We got skulls for the living

And the pain pays our dues
And some of us we have tattoos
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Tell Tale Signs"

"Tell Tale Signs"



God dammit Amy, we're not kids any more.
You can't just keep waltzing out of my life,
Leaving clothes on my bedroom floor,
Like nothing really matters, like pain doesn't hurt.
You should be more to me by now than just heartbreak in a short skirt.

You kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I made when I was a kid,
With a disassembled disposable razor I stole from my dad,
When I thought that suffering was something profound,
That weighed down on wise heads,
And not just something to be avoided,
Something normal people dread.

God dammit Amy, well of course I've changed.
With all the things I've done and the places I've been
I'd be a machine if I had stayed the same.
But you're still back where we started, you haven't changed at all.
You're still trying to live like a kid, like you can always have it all.

You know you kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I hid as best I could,
That I covered with ink, but in the right kind of light they still bleed through,
Showing that there are some things I just can't change no matter what I do:
The tell-tale signs of being used,
Of being trapped inside of you.

You're a beautiful butterfly
Burned with a branding iron
Onto my outsides into my insides
As a simple sign:
To show off your ownership.
Burned into my naked skin,
Onto my outsides into my insides.

It's not even love any more,
It's just a claim upon my soul.
It stains my skin, yeah it's on my breath,
And I'm ashamed to get undressed
In front of strangers in case they see
The tell tale signs that you have left all over me.

God dammit Amy.
You'll always remind me of scars on my arms that I know will never fade.
And it's not like it's something I think about each and every day -
I just occasionally catch myself scratching them, as if they'd ever go away.
But these tell tale signs are here to stay, and in the end you know that's OK.
You will always be a part of my patched-up patchwork taped-up tape-deck heart.
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"Thatcher Fucked The Kids"

"Thatcher Fucked The Kids"



Whatever happened to childhood?
We're all scared of the kids in our neighborhood;
They're not small, charming and harmless,
They're a violent bunch of bastard little shits.
And anyone who looks younger than me
Makes me check for my wallet, my phone and my keys,
And I'm tired of being tired out
Always being on the lookout for thieving gits.

We're all wondering how we ended up so scared;
We spent ten long years teaching our kids not to care
And that "there's no such thing as society" anyway,
And all the rich folks act surprised
When all sense of community dies,
But you just closed your eyes to the other side
Of all the things that she did.
Thatcher fucked the kids.

And it seems a little bit rich to me,
The way the rich only ever talk of charity
In times like the seventies, the broken down economy
Meant even the upper tier was needing some help.
But as soon as things look brighter,
Yeah the grin gets wider and the grip gets tighter,
And for every teenage tracksuit mugger
There's a guy in a suit who wouldn't lift a finger for anybody else.

You've got a generation raised on the welfare state,
Enjoyed all its benefits and did just great,
But as soon as they were settled as the richest of the rich,
They kicked away the ladder, told the rest of us that life's a bitch.
And it's no surprise that all the fuck-ups
Didn't show up until the kids had grown up.
But when no one ever smiles or ever helps a stranger,
Is it any fucking wonder our society's in danger of collapse?

So all the kids are bastards,
But don't blame them, yeah, they learn by example.
Blame the folks who sold the future for the highest bid:
That's right, Thatcher fucked the kids.
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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30.266
"The Angel Islington"

"The Angel Islington"



By the waters of the Thames
I resolve to start again
To wash my feet and cleanse my sins
To lose my cobwebs on the wind
To fix the parts of me I broke
To speak out loud the things I know
I haven't been myself

Wandering Rosebery Avenue
I could only think of you
Facing Samuel Johnson down
Solved to wear down London Town
A glance to take my breath away
And drag me south from Holloway
You and no one else

And the king of a kingdom of mistakes
I've broken all the things that I could break
Fuck the fishing, I will abdicate
And meet you on the corner of the upper street and the city road
And you, of course, the Angel Islington
Ah, come on, a boy could hope

By the waters of the Thames
I resolve to start again
 
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Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
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"The Armadillo"

"The Armadillo"


I was taking compass bearings for the Ordnance Survey
On an army training camp on Salisbury plain
I had packed up my theodolite, was calling it a day
When I heard a voice that sang a sad refrain:

'Oh, my darling Armadillo
Let me tell you of my love
Listen to my Armadillo roundelay;
Be my fellow on my pillow
Underneath this weeping willow
Be my darling Armadillo all the day.'

I was somewhat disconcerted by this curious affair
For a single Armadillo, you will own
On Salisbury plain, in summer, is comparatively rare
And a pair of them is practically unknown

Drawn by that mellow solo
There I followed on my bike
To discover what these Armadillo
Lovers would be like:

'Oh, my darling Armadillo
How delightful it would be
If for us those silver wedding bells would chime
Let the orange blossoms billow
You need only say 'I will'-oh
Be my darling Armadillo all the time.'

Then I saw them in a hollow, by a yellow muddy bank
An Armadillo singing [?] to an armour-plated tank
Should I tell him, gaunt and rusting, with the willow tree above
This - abandoned on manoeuvres - is the object of your love?

I left him to his singing
Cycled home without a pause
Never tell a man the truth
About the one that he adores

On the breeze that follows sunset
I could hear that sad refrain
Singing willow, willow, willow down the way;
And I seemed to hear it still, Oh
Vive L'amore, vive l'Armadillo
'Be my darling Armadillo all the day
Be my darling Armadillo all the day.'
 
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