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.


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