차트 10위에 진입했던 양대 히트곡 "SOMETHING FOR THE WEEKEND", "BECOMING MORE LIKE ALFIE"를 통해 모던 세대의 아트 팝으로 자리매김했던 DIVINE COMEDY의 최고작! 리더 NEIL HANNON의 유머러스 하면서도 독설적인 가사와 드라마틱한 오케스트레이션이 넘실대는 "디바인 코메디"만의 사운들를 완성시켰던 명작! .... ....
She said "There's something in the woodshed And I can hear it breathing - It's such an eerie feeling, darling." He said "There's nothing in the woodshed - It's your imagination End of the conversation, darling."
Something in his heart told him to come clean He was not who he claimed to be Something in his genes told him to pretend 'Twas something for the weekend
But she said "There's something in the woodshed I know because I saw it I can't simply ignore it, darling." So he said "Now baby, don't be stupid Get this into your sweet head There ain't nothing in the woodshed (except maybe some wood)."
Something in his heart told him to come clean He was not who he claimed to be Something in his jeans told him to pretend 'Twas something for the weekend
"I'll go all the way with you, if you'll only do the same for me ? go and see If it's nothing like you say, then you can have your wicked way with me"
He went down to the woodshed They came down hard on his head Gagged and bound and left for dead When he woke she was gone with his car and all of his money
Are you all settled in? Right, then we can begin. My name is... ALFIE!
Once there was a time When my mind lay on higher things And once there was a time I could find pretty words to sing But now, well now I find It saves time to say what you mean I know it seems so unrefined but it's time to let off some steam
Oh come on! Everybody knows that No means Yes Just like glasses come free on the N.H.S. But the more I look through them the more I see I'm becoming more like Alfie
Once there was a time When a kind word could be enough And once there was a time I could blindfold myself with love But not now?now I'm resigned To the kind of life I had reserved For other guys less smart than I Y'know?the kind who will always end up with the girls
And besides Everybody knows that No means Yes Just like glasses come free on the N.H.S. But the more I look through them the more I see I'm becoming more like Alfie
"Hello... What have we here? A young lady! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise, my pretty one? How may I be of service this dark and wintry night? Ah, I see. You wish me to look into the future... your future. After GCSEs, A-levels, university... After your first badly paid job in advertising... Okay, my pretty, just cross my palm with plastic, And I'll see what I can do... Wait! The fog is lifting!"
I see oriental paper globes Hanging like decomposing cocoons While exotic candles overload The dusty air with their stale perfume And I see lentils, beans, seaweed and rice In jars on the windowsill And it ain't hardly enough to feed the mice Running behind the lines of allergy pills
All these things will come to pass When heroes of the middle class Face up to their responsibilities
I see an Indian fertility God He's got thirty seven limbs to spare And tasteless tie-dyed tablecloths That double up as evening wear And I see naked bodies twist and turn On the futon of dreams fulfilled But their three-year-old kid seems unconcerned He'd rather swallow all those allergy pills
I see unspeakable vulgarity Institutionalised mediocrity Infinite tragedy Rise up little souls?join the doomed army Fight the good fight?wage the unwinnable war: Elegance against ignorance! Difference against indifference! Wit against shit!
My words fly up to heaven, my thoughts remain below Words said without feeling never to heaven go...
All these things will come to pass When heroes of the middle class Face up, repent, and pay the price For accidentally creating life An oversight for which they must atone And sacrifice their own
Ladysmith wants you forthwith to come to her relief Burn your briefs you leave for France tonight Carefully cut the straps of the booby-traps and set the captives free But don't shoot 'til you see her big blue eyes
Then sound the charge?breath your final breath And charge into the valley of death Cannon to the left and cannon to the right They'll go bang bang bang all night
We'll fight them on the beaches Yes, we'll fill 'em full of lead Fighting naked in the open air We'll fight them in the kitchen, in the bathroom in the garden shed Fighting the good fight any-fighting-where
So sound the charge?breathe your final breath And charge into the valley of death Cannon to the left and cannon to the right They'll go bang bang bang all night There'll be a cannon to the left and cannon to the right They'll go bang bang bang bang bang bang bang all night...
"Baby baby, I love the way you talk sense to me Especially when you say 'Neil, you got love' I hear what you're saying... I have in my hand a piece of paper that says "Let's make lurrve, not this phoney war-thang" We goin' over the top - But you're so sexy when you're angry, honey-chile"
"Roamin' around in no man's land, gettin' caught in your barbed wire Baby baby, gonna set your village on fire..."
CHARGE?I'm gonna hit you where it hurts CHARGE?So sound the red alert! There'll be a cannon to the left... ...And a cannon to the right... (The hills are alive with the sound of) BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG All night!
Pale, pubescent beasts Roam through the streets And coffee shops Their prey gather in herds Of stiff knee-length skirts And white ankle socks But while they search for a mate My type hibernate In bedrooms above Composing their songs of love
Young, uniform minds In uniform lines And uniform ties Run round with trousers on fire And signs of desire They cannot disguise While I try to find words As light as the birds That circle above To put in my songs of love
Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice Fortune depends on the tone of your voice So sing while you have time Let the sun shine down from above And fill you with songs of love Take me
Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice Fortune depends on the tone of your voice So let's sing while we still can While the sun hangs high up above Wonderful songs of love Beautiful songs of love
I met a girl, she was a frog princess I guess I ought to make it clear That I saw nothing through her see-through dress Until she whispered in my ear
"You don't really love me and I don't really mind 'Cause I don't love anybody, That stuff is just a waste of time Your place or mine?"
I met a girl, she was a complete mess I should've left her well alone?but oh no, not me! I had to see if underneath that dress Her heart was really made of stone
I met a girl, she was a frog princess And yes I do regret it now But how was I to know that just one kiss Could turn my frog into a cow?
And now I'm rid of her I must confess To thinking 'bout what might have been And I can visualise my frog princess Beneath a shining guillotine
You don't really love me and I don't really mind 'Cause I don't love anybody, I come and go through people's love lives Your place or mine?
When she was just a girl She became a woman of the world Soon there wasn't room enough for her In between the bosoms of her family She popped the cork, got on the Greyhound to New York Small-talked her way round just the sort Of playboys' playground she'd once dreamed about
Maybe I love her, but I'm jealous of her She's a woman of the world
She's a fake!?sure, but she's a real fake On the make!?making up for lost time Just you wait!?hey, give the girl a break And a fifty dollar bill will see to that Heh, that ain't enough to feed the cat Serve up the rats and super rats Well they just get fatter while she fades away
Maybe I love her, but I'm jealous of her She's a woman of the world Maybe I hate her, 'cause I didn't create her It's human nature, girl Maybe I'll suffer, just to be her lover Just to be part of her world Maybe I need her, because I want to be her baby, can I be your girl? Maybe I'll kill her, just trying to thrill her if she don't kill me first
We're making eye-contact Oh those hypnotic eyes attract Such philanthropic flies?that's that. You cannot stop it, so why the devil do you try?
Through a long and sleepless night I thought upon the jury's plight If what is wrong can feel so right Then life's no longer black and white It's four o'clock and all's not well In my private circle of hell I contemplate my navel hair And slowly slide into despair This rut has fast become a trench This smell has turned into the stench Of rotten dreams and stale ideals The past is snapping at my heels Oh Danny Boy the pipes are blocked With bedtime blues and future shock I know the best is yet to come But does it always take this long?
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes But I'll always be the bridegroom and never the bride
You deserve to be horse-whipped But I've no horse, that joke's so shit And whips would only make it worse Don't tempt the lonely and perverse The casualties of casual sex The child of three with X-ray specs The conman low in self esteem The Casanova in your dreams I'll scream and scream and scream until I've made myself critically ill In hospital, in case you're there In uniform, intensive care I know you'll be the death of me But what a cool death that would be I'd rather die than be deprived Of Wonderbras and thunder thighs
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes But I'll always be the bridegroom and never the bride
Bored of normality? why not go daft? It's easy to do if you try Slide right back down that self-confident path You've just so laboriously climbed Pickle your liver and addle your brain Live the Bohemian life Die young and penniless somewhere in Spain Then again you could try just to live your own life In the way that you find most amusing I DON'T REALLY CARE!
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes But I will always be the bridegroom and I will never be the bride Never be the bride
"The Divine Comedy's Casanova?a collection of songs for bass baritone and ensemble, inspired by the writings of the eighteenth century Venetian gambler, eroticist and spy; and performed for us there by the composer, Neil Hannon. He was accompanied in that 1995 recording by a specially assembled group of young musicians, under the baton of Dr. Joby Talbot. The programme was devised by The Divine Comedy, and was produced in our London studios by Darren Allison.
Now, as we're running a little ahead of schedule, there's just time for one extra item. So I'll leave you with the haunting strains of Theme From Casanova..."