Beasley StreetFAR FROM CRAZY PAVEMENTS
...THE TASTE OF SILVER SPOONS
A CLINICAL ARRANGEMENT
...ON A DIRTY AFTERNOON
WHERE THE FECAL GERMS OF MR. FREUD
...ARE RENDERED OBSOLETE
THE LEGAL TERM IS NULL AND VOID
IN THE CASE OF... BEASLEY STREET
Day the world stood stillDeafening whispers loud and clear
The sound of nothing meets my ears
I get the message - i know the drill
This is the day the world stood still
The day the world stood still
The day the world stood still
No traffic noise or sparrows trill
Distant relationA family affair.
We get the picture,
We're in it somewhere.
Permanent fixtures.
People who care.
Stranger beware,
This is a family affair
Evidently Chicken Townthe fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chief's a fucking swine
who fucking draws a fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
Ghost of Al CaponeIn a marble room I was alone
Somewhere in the heart of rome
Through gardens long since overgrown
Down old arcades of broken stone
I met the ghost of Al Capone
Upon request for some i.d.
He said the guardian angels are working for me
GimmixHey Jimmy, gimme the gimmix
Another day - another fad
Funk, yes, even for a minute.
They’re not bad - dad
From the barmy days of the hoola hoop craze
to the skate board panic of today
Amused, amazed, aghast we gaze
we don’t get in the way
I Wanna Be YoursI wanna be your vacuum cleaner
breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots
I wanna be yours
Suspended sentenceRead the paper - humdrum
Henley Regatta - page one
Eat die - ho hum
Page three - big bum
Giving a lunatic a loaded gun
He walks - others run
Thirty dead - no fun
Foreigners feature as figures of fun
The It ManLook who it isn't, it's, the 'It Man' maybe.
The physical description fits, 'It Man' baby.
You had a Julia Ceaser haircut,
Middle market leisure wear,
but don't let him be your teddy bear...
could be 'It Man' ...baby
You want women, wall-to-wall
Thirty Six Hours36 HOURS IN THE MYSTERY CHAIR
36 HOURS IN THE QUIZZICAL GLARE
OF THE NAKED LIGHTS AND THE VISIBLE HARDWARE
ANOTHER BLOKE IS LEAVING IN A WHEELCHAIR
NO JOKE, HERE COMES THE PUNCHLINE
LIGHTS OUT... SACK TIME
TwatLike a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend.
You give me the horrors
too bad to be true
All of my tomorrow’s
are lousy coz of you.
You put the Shat in Shatter
Put the Pain in Spain
Valley Of The Lost Womenthe windows are frigidaire icebergs
frozen in prickly heat
the vanishing cream victims
are drip-fed amnesia neat
where the test card melodies warm you
in powder blue pseudo bel air
germs and flies alarm you
they whisper the word expelair