lyrics
I wish I was back in Liverpool, {insert so called town of home here} Liverpool town where I was born
Where there ain't no trees, no scent of grease, no field's of waving corn
But there's lots of girls with peroxide curls and the black and tan flows free
There's six in a bed by the old pier head and it's Liverpool town for me
'Tis seventeen long years since I wandered away to be the wild world o'er
My very first trip on an the A3 40 that was bound for Singapore
I was not at all sick and finally free and that sticky heat felt good
So I told them "Jack, you'd better never go back to dear old Liverpool town"
I wish I was back in Singapore, Singapore town where I was born {into the right to exist}
Where there ain't no hills, no scent of chips, no fields of northern crops
But there's lots of fellow outsiders trying to find their way and the noodles flow freely
There's six construction workers to a bed by the old pier head but we'll ignore that for now it's Singapore town for me
You're wondering why I'm here again
"Bugger off to your new home" you say
But it'd take 10 years of sense delight and 7 years of Amsterdam
I'm autistic you see but they never told me until I worked it out myself (auto as in autonomous)
I was bullied out then but now it's safe, maybe...
_------+
Noel 1952
70 years ago. Sounds like yesterday.
There are bad times just around the corner,
There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky
And it's no good whining
About a silver lining
For we know from experience that they won't roll by,
With a scowl and a frown
We'll keep our peckers down
And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
We're going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag
And wait until we drop down dead.
There are bad times around the corner,
The horizon's gloomy as can be,
There are black birds over
The grayish cliffs of Dover
And the rats are preparing to leave the BBC
We're an unhappy breed
And very bored indeed
When reminded of something that Nelson said.
While the press and the politicians nag nag nag
We'll wait until we drop down dead.
{Spoken}
If England is a garden
We ought to have more manure.
Hurray, hurray, hurray!
Suffering and dismay.
There are bad times just around the corner,
We can all look forward to despair,
It's as clear as crystal
From Bridlington to Bristol
That we can't save democracy and we don't much care
If the Reds and the Pinks
Believe that England stinks
And that world revolution is bound to spread,
We'd better all learn the lyrics of the old 'Red Flag' (dated bit)
And wait until we drop down dead.
A likely story
Land of Hope and Glory,
Wait until we drop down dead.
_----+
Nothing Compares to you and you and you
(Because comparison is the thief of joy)
It's been seven hours and 15 days (and lots longer)
Since you took their love away
they go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took our love away
Since we've been gone, I can do whatever she wants
We can see whomever I choose
They can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues
'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you, and you and you
It's been so lonely without us here
Like birds without songs
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me humans (with whom this resonates), where did we go wrong?
I could put my arms around every boy/girl/person we see
But they'd only remind us of you and you and you
We/you went to the doctor, guess what they told us
Guess what it told me
They said, "Girl/boy you better try to have fun, no matter what we do"
But he's a fool
'Cause nothing compares, nothing compares to us
All the flowers that we planted mama (and trees)
In the back yard
All died when it went away
I know that living with me/you/us was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to give it another try
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to us
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to us
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you, you, you and me