Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
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Burn these sheets that we've just fucked in.
My weekend beacon, I've been sucked in. Just one more time and then you'll get tucked in. I think you might still be my best. Come with me 'cause I want a thrill now. It's okay 'cause I'm on the pill now. We hardly spoke, we just stood around looming, then we slipped away while the party was booming. We've got so good now at just presuming, why won't you let me rest? Come with me now, no-one will miss you. Do what you want, don't expect me to kiss you. It's your skin and your breath and your sweat and greasy hair, the empty cans and makeshift ashtrays everywhere. Strangers waking up in the Monday morning stink - of course I feel sick, but it's not why you think. Come with me, but this is the last time, understand you're no more than a pastime. My sharp exit could not have been quicker, but my excuse could have been a bit slicker. Just be polite now and get down and lick her. I think it's time we both get dressed. |
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2. |
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3. |
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If we're having so much fun, how come I'm crying every Monday?
Is it just to cancel out the laughter from Thursday 'til Sunday? I spend the next two days in my bed and I wonder what it's all about, and as soon as I start to feel okay I know it's time to go back out. I've had the same look on my face for the last two lonely years. Twenty-four months of bargain pills, cheeky lines and stolen beers. In all the pictures that I've got, my eyes are so black and wide, and you don't have to look long enough you'll see there's not much life inside. A new home to hang my heart is what I thought I'd never find but fate, as always, intervened. And now I've got a girl in mind, and I'm meeting her next week when we get back home to Glasgow. That's if we even make it and don't get buried in the Dutch snow. And if my instincts are right, I will fall in love and then we can have a laugh from time to time, but you won't see me there again. When I get home in the morning, Trisha's hosting a debate - If you don't like the fish you're catching then you've got to change the bait. |
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4. |
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You know I've felt like this before,
I know you have felt it too, But maybe I don't want to dance, Cos I've not had as much as you. Our lives did not begin, The very moment that we met. I don't want to hold your hand, There is so much that I'll forget. You're no angel from above, You're the last girl I will love. And maybe I'm not very vocal, Cos I've used it once before, And the more they were repeated, The more they were ignored. But the ears my whispers fell on, They weren't deaf, they were bang on, Cause they knew I didn't mean it. I just wanted to hang on. But the world has changed, and how! And I know I mean it. So let's toast the last romance, But just don't ask me to dance. |
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5. |
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I used to be so proud of thinking I was such a liar.
In the covert world of romance, brother, I was just a try-er. Woman was the enemy and victory the point where I'd successfully knocked someone's heart out of joint. And it's hilarious to think I thought by now I'd have a wife, but I've always been so desperate to give away my life. Then I just get lazy, I've got everything assumed. Sometimes there's nothing sexier than knowing that you're doomed. And I bet you got a fright when you took that girl to bed, it was only your first night when she grabbed your head and said, "Look at me, hey, look at me, you don't love me, I can see. You just want me for some fun, I might as well be anyone". I hope you'll reap the benefits of our ten years apart. When I tell you not give a fuck, don't take it to heart - try and be a gentleman and always tell the truth - I'm not just a hypocrite, I'm jealous of your youth. And I can't give you a lecture on how to be a man. I've not much advice to offer, no solid foolproof plan. Even though I was so certain that it's just a bit of fun I soon got sick of micro-waving low-fat meals for one. So when you ignore her call and you just delete her text, it might make you feel tall as you make room for the next. But look at me, hey, look at me, you know I love you, obviously, and I don't want to spoil your fun, but you don't have to hurt someone. |
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6. |
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Hurry and finish your unhealthy breakfast, then it's straight back to bed.
Did you bring something with you today to fuck away my sore head? My first afternoon in your hands, and the loveliest yet. Put some clothes on and leave the bath running while you're at the laundrette. Come round and love me, sigh and rumble above me, and we'll make the noises we make until we both laugh and both shake. No splishing no sploshing, are you sure we'll fit in? Then it's straight back to bed again with our soft and clean skin, and I kiss the cut on your lip, a souvenir from last night, a wound from our over-excitement, are you sure it's alright? It's on the tips of our tongues, but who'll be the first one to say it? I've said it too much in the past so let's just have fun and delay it. But come round and show me, sigh and rumble below me and we'll make the noises we make until we both laugh and both shake. |
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7. |
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The ugly tattooed swingers euphemise and call their mucky hobby "trysts,"
but if I saw another man touch you, I'd break his fucking wrists. Monogamy's not natural, we can't survive, that's what he'll say. He loves to swap, he's open-minded, but don't dare suggest he's gay. And maybe we're just lucky, maybe our connection is unique. And if that's really just what normal people do, aren't you proud to be a freak? The so-called Dr. Gray's a billionaire because he's got the sexes sussed. We're a different race, we can't communicate and mind-games are a must. But if you need a man, just buy the book and follow all "The Rules," there's no-one quicker to splash out than vulnerable and desperate, lonely fools. Do you know enough to circle me a "yes"? In just three minutes, can I suitably impress? Why don't we ignore the whistle? Just a look, a smile, a kiss'll tell you all you really need to know. And maybe we're just different. Maybe we're nature's surprise. So put down the book, log off and keep your wallet closed and just look me in the eyes. |
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8. |
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Give me your gibberish tonight and talk to me with your eyes shut
Make me giggle in your sleep, and I can dream that you're a slut And when I wake up stiff, please just feel free to use me Then go to work and let me wonder what it was that made you choose me And now I love you more than that, and now I love you more than this So just stay over on your side, and go to sleep and dream of piss Tomorrow you can tell me all the things you've done with boys Blushing as you recount tales to satisfy my see-through ploys Cause in my nightly dramas, you are still the biggest star So keep the window open and I can dream we are in the car And tonight we will be leaving, we can take the scenic route To a windfarm by the sea while I'm dreaming that you're mute There's no better journey than me on my way to you Sitting there all smug, knowing what we might get up to And one day we'll be idle, and we'll both be past our peak So until then, all we can do is master a technique Now let's sleep.. |
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9. |
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If you take a sock off,
then I'll take a sock off. We'll do one for one 'til we're both bare. And with our tongues click-clicking, the big bright clock stops ticking as we make a right mess of your hair. Then we'll make plans for dinner, though my gut's got no thinner since I've been letting you feed it. And you're useless at drinking, but these days I've been thinking I doubt we're going to need it. And if you stop bleeding and we took to breeding, you know our son would be a hit. And as for our daughter, all suitors she'd slaughter with her brains and her beauty and her wit. After the flirting and after the swooning, with nerves put to bed it's all just fine tuning. And we'll never get bored with our routine and pattern when I'm your house-husband and you are my slattern. But one day I might cut loose and I just won't be much use and so you'll push me away - so do your best, and make me pay. |
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10. |
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Not everything must end
Not every romance must descend Not every lover's pact decays Not every sad mistake replays If you can love my growing gut My rotten teeth and greying hair Then I can guarantee I'll do The same as long as you can bear If you love my little poofy hands My skinny arms and reeking feet The way I dance, the way I eat If you love the morning spots I try And squeeze before you're up to see Each torn ankle, each weak knee But still my moods must swing To solitude I must still cling And you won't love me every day And suffer many a display But plates may smash and doors may slam My comments may be less than kind But that won't mean I've changed my mind I'm a huffy prick the best of times I love to sulf and shout and squeal But please don't doubt the way I feel Cause when the Sun burns up the earth Our progeny will raise a can Here's to where it all began And every day I hear the world Is cracking up, the end is near I hear we all should live in fear Bullies, burglers, paedophiles Bird flu and passive smoke (They're coming!) Volcanoes, earthquakes, tidal waves Heart disease and strokes (They're coming!) Terrorists with homemade poisons And factions everywhere (They're coming!) They're drinking in the street And they could steal your name And I don't care! |