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Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the op'ning day. Rub-a-dub-dub It's time for a scrub So through clouds of steam To a cracked and faded cream Bath-tub wanders frail Aphrodite, so pale Pink and white She is naked as sin Wearing nothing but a grin And a pin in her hair Will she be drowned? Found With her hair tied behind Shoulders back And head inclined To the sound of music Playing above Bathing her in love But darkness and fear Will disappear like the soap When she opens her eyes. She throws back her dormer windows Morning light shows Ophelia raised From her watery grave in a brave new world. |
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One butterfly
Spies a glint in his eye, Birds sing as he cycles by. Oh! Why should he feel sad? This world's not so bad, and besides, Woe betide he who would frown When natural beauty abounds. And now with wheels spinning free He's picking up speed. Two butterflies Tie knots in his stomach, They love it when he goes too fast. Wind whistles past, Whilst oceans of air That will mess up his hair, Though he no longer cares any more For overindulgence and vanity, Vacuous vice! Just once or twice, Thrice, Four times in five we forget we're alive And neglect to remind ourselves. Three butterflies Realise when it's time to depart, They have tickled his ribs They have fluttered his heart, But the starting is easy compared to the stop And the bottom is hard when compared to the top. Oh la la la la la etc... |
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"This book deals with epiphenomenalism, which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence... makes no difference... whatever are you doing?"
Aphra Benn: Hello Cervantes: Donkey Daniel Defoe: To christen the day! Samuel Richardson: Hello Henry Fielding: Tittle-tattle Tittle-tattle... Lawrence Sterne: Hello Mary Wolstencraft: Vindicated! Jane Austen: Here I am! Sir Walter Scott: We're all doomed! Leo Tolstoy: Yes! Honore de Balzac: Oui... Edgar Allen Poe: Aaaarrrggghhhh! Charlotte Bronte: Hello... Emily Bronte: Hello... Anne Bronte: Hellooo..? Nikolai Gogol: Vas chi Gustav Flaubert: Oui William Makepeace Thackeray: Call me 'William Makepeace Thackeray' Nathaniel Hawthorne: The letter 'A' Herman Melville: Ahoy there! Charles Dickens: London is so beautiful this time of year... Anthony Trollope: good-good-good-good evening! Fyodor Dostoevsky: Here come the sleepers... Mark Twain: I can't even spell 'Mississippi'! George Eliot: George reads German Emile Zola: J'accuse Henry James: Howdy Miss Wharton! Thomas Hardy: Ooo-arrr! Joseph Conrad: I'm a bloody boring writer... Katherine Mansfield: (cough cough) Edith Wharton: Well hello, Mr James! DH Lawrence: Never heard of it EM Forster: Never heard of it! Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own; He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today' James Joyce: Hello there! Virginia Woolf: I'm losing my mind! Marcel Proust: Je me'en souviens plus F Scott Fitzgerald: baa bababa baa Ernest Hemingway: I forgot the.... Hermann Hesse: Oh es ist alle so haßlich Evelyn Waugh: Whoooaarr! William Faulkner: Tu connait William Faulkner? Anaïs Nin: The strand of pearls Ford Maddox Ford: Any colour, as long as it's black! Jean-Paul Sartre: Let's go to the dome, Simone! Simone de Beauvoir: C'est exact present Albert Camus: The beach... the beach Franz Kafka: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! Thomas Mann: Mam Graham Greene: Call me 'pinky', lovely Jack Kerouac: Me car's broken down... William S Burroughs: Wowwww! Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own; He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today' Kingsley Amis: (cough) Doris Lessing: I hate men! Vladimir Nabokov: Hello, little girl... William Golding: Achtung Busby! JG Ballard: Instrument binnacle Richard Brautigan: How are you doing? Milan Kundera: I don't do interviews Ivy Compton Burnett: Hello... Paul Theroux: Have a nice day! Gunter Grass: I've found snails! Gore Vidal: Oh, it makes me mad! John Updike: Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run... Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap! Malcolm Bradbury: stroke John Steinbeck, stroke JD Salinger Iain Banks: Too orangey for crows! AS Byatt: Nine tenths of the law, you know... Martin Amis: (burp) Brett Easton Ellis: Aaaaarrrggghhh! Umberto Eco: I don't understand this either... Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Mi casa es su casa Roddy Doyle: ha ha ha! Salman Rushdie: Names will live forever... |
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"Who'll have a fishy
On a little dishy? Who will have a fishy When the boat comes..." And then he says "With our glasses both raised in a toast Let's sing for those in peril on the sea Who cater ceaselessly To thy every wish With every fish As fresh as fish can be You see, I'm into my oysters My king prawns and caviar No matter how far away they are I'll be there!" And then she says, "Now with our glasses both raised in this toast Let's sing for those in peril on the sea Who labour tirelessly In their tiny boats Off John O' Groats Their socks soaked for me You see, I do like my lobster My hake, skate and rainbow trout And if there's a fishy smell about I'll be there! And then And then we'll sing for those in peril on the sea... Don't be frightened Don't be scared Chop off their heads And little legs Then peel away the shell And open up your senses to the smell The sound and colour Touch and taste Of crab, cod, clams and kippers Scampi, squid, sole, shark and scallop Winkles, whelks, whale and whiting Seaweed, swordfish, sardines and sea urchin Haddock, halibut, herrings and eel Cockles, mussels, mackerel and veal Pilchard, plankton, St Peter's fish and plaice Octopussy jellyfishy And dolphin's an aquired taste "Who will have a fishy On a little dishy? I will have a fishy When the boat comes in..." |
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While they have been eating
The rain has started falling, Gradually gathering in strength; What began a drizzle Has now become torrential, And doesn't look like coming to an end. The two bedraggled figures That huddle in the doorway, With nothing vaguely waterproof to wear, Are now secretly wishing They'd listened to their mothers When being told to always be prepared. Screaming 'Geronimo!', They run for it down the road; With an arm around her waist He leads her to a place He knows. Soaked through, but happy, They squelch up to the landing; The room before them Makes a welcome sight. The coal fire is throwing Strange shapes upon the hearthrug, And crying out to be knelt down beside. She pulls off her jumper And flings it in the corner; He picks it up and hangs it on a chair. She puts on a record And sings into her coffee; He puts a blanket round her, Sits her down And dries her beautiful hair. |
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Twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue We've got an hour or two Before it's time to go Let's go see a movie show Jeanne can't choose Between the two 'Cos Jules is hip And Jim is cool And so they live together With the trees and birds And little girls Who play upon Poor Jean-Claude's nerves Till finally He strokes Claire's knee And when she asks Of his ambition Jean-Pierre replies "My mission Is to become eternal And to die..." Heaven knows the reason why... When the lights go out All over Europe I forget about old Hollywood, 'Cos Doris Day could never Make me cheer up Quite the way those French girls always could Jean Seberg: Et puisque je suis mechante avec toi c'est la preuve que je ne suis pas amoureuse de toi Jean Paul Belmondo: On dit qu'il n'y a pas d'amour heureux Jean Seberg: Si je t'aimais... oh c'est trop complice Jean Paul Belmondo: Au contraire, il n'y a pas d'amour malheureux Jean Seberg: Je veux que les gens s'occupant pas de moi et puis je suis independente... Peut etre que tu m'aimes? Jean Paul Belmondo: C'est ce que lu crois, mais tu ne l'ai pas Jean Seberg: C'est pour ca que je t'ai denonce Jean Paul Belmondo: Je te suis superieur Jean Seberg: Maintenant tu es force de partir Jean Paul Belmondo: Tu es single, c'est lamentable comme raisonnment... When the lights go out All over Europe I forget about old MGM 'Cos Paramount Was never Universal And Warners went out Way back when Those lights go out All over Europe I forget about old Hollywood, 'Cos Doris Day could never Make me cheer up Quite the way those French girls Always could. |
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Do you remember
The way it used to be? June to September In a cottage by the sea Distant cousins, local kids We climbed every tree together And it never, ever rained Till we climbed back on the train That would take us so far away From the village and the bay And the summer house Where we found new games to play Do you remember Sunday lunch on the lawn? Daring escapes at midnight And costumeless bathes at dawn You were only 9 years old And I was barely 10 It's kind of weird To be back here again Ooh, ooh, ooh Do you remember the summer house? The summer house Do you remember The summer house? Our summer house My summer house Our summer house Summer house, summer house, summer house |
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Back at the house
A bottle is found And opened in honour of those who have drowned, While we who have not are stricken with guilt And dutifully see that not one drop is spilt; We're drinking to life, We're drinking to death - We're drinking 'til none of our livers are left! We're wending our way down to the spirit store, We'll drink 'til we just can't drink anymore! Raise your glasses high, Drink the cellar dry! Well, bloody my nose And blacken my eye! If it ain't some young Turk in search of a fight - And Chanticleer's chest is sagging with pride, For honour has yet to be satisfied. Well, heaven be thanked We live in an age When no man need bother (Except on the stage) With 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori' - And definitely not tonight! I can still remember When I was just a kid - I was free to do what I wanted to, But I never, ever did... So now with years of discretion reached, May we not forget Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite For there's life in the old world yet! There'll always be an England (oh yes there will), An Ireland and a France (indubitably), A Liechtenstein and Finland (absolutely right, completely undeniable), And we have only one chance... Earnest young man with an unhealthy tan Puts a drink in my hand and says: "I understand You're in search of the place To continue the chase Of the heavenly taste? I suggest in that case You all come with me To my place by the sea Where the glasses shall be overflowing with free Alcoholic delights - And free love if you like - For what point has this life If you can't realise you're dreams?!" Oh, raise your glasses high, And drink the town dry! We'll drink beyond the boundaries of sense! We'll drink 'til we start to see lovely pink elephants Inside our heads, inside our beds - Inside the threads of our pyjama legs - So don't shoot til you see the reds of our eyes And an army of elephants marching behind! >From the day I was born 'til the night I will die All my lovers will be pink and elephantine! |
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Ten
Apes turn into men and grapes turn into wine How we made it to nine I'll never know Eight Man looks for a mate but fate plays cruel tricks And seven turns to six still he's alone Along comes number five Eureka I'm alive I think therefore I am a lucky man Three From this balcony the two of us can see The place where we first met one wet sunday |
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Over the houses
The streets and the trees Over the dogs down below They'll bark at our shadows As we float by on the breeze Tonight we fly Over the chimney tops Skylights and slates - Looking into all your lives And wondering why Happiness is so hard to find Over the doctor, over the soldier Over the farmer, over the poacher Over the preacher, over the gambler Over the teacher, over the rambler Over the lawyer, over the dancer Over the voyeur,over the builder and the destroyer, Over the hills and far away Tonight we fly Over the mountains The beach and the sea Over the friends that we've known And those that we now know And those who we've yet to meet And when we die Oh, will we be That disappointed Or sad If heaven doesn't exist What will we have missed This life is the best we've ever had |
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