|
INTRO LA
LA SIm
Always at the foot of the photograph - that's me there
LA
Snug as a thug in a mugshot pose
SIm
Owner of this corner and not much more
LA RE MI
Still these days I'm better placed to get my just rewards
LA
I'll pound out a tune and very soon
RE MI
I'll have too much to say and a dead stupid name
CHORUS
LA MI
Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
LA MI
Of "Oh I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
LA MI
Calendars crumble I'm knee deep in numbers
LA MI LA
Turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again
Rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two
Looking at my watch and I'm half-past caring
In the lap of luxury it comes to mind
Is this headboard hard? Am I a lap behind?
But to face doom in a sock-stenched room all by myself
Is the kind of fate I never contemplate
Lots of people would cry though none spring to mind
RE
Know what it's like
To sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life?
SIm RE
Every stopped to think and found out nothing was there?
MI LA
They laugh to see such fun
SIm RE
Playing Blind Man's Bluff all by myself
LA
And they're chanting a line from a nursery rhyme
MI RE
"Ba Ba Bleary Eyes - Have you any idea?"
LA MI LA MI
The calendar's cluttered with days that are numbered
|
|
