Ten Years in an Open Necked Shirt Read online

  like the main man about town

  she needs somebody to help her out

  but that’s where you keep falling down

  was there ever a thing so fair

  that smashed itself to bits

  sometimes you get nowhere

  working on the midnight shift

  a million tears gonna tear apart

  eyes that never shut

  a million spears gonna pierce your heart

  it’s the death of a thousand cuts

  a million souls all running scared

  or else they only drift

  you won’t find her anywhere

  she’s working on the midnight shift

  you’re gonna find her on the hit list

  of a cheapskate beastly rag

  you’re gonna find her on the midnight shift

  what a fuckin drag

  you really can’t stop now

  the visitors arrive

  here come the cops now

  crunching up the drive

  flat footsteps on the stairs

  bad news travels swift

  sometimes you get nowhere

  working on the midnight shift

  kung fu international

  outside the take-away Saturday night

  a bald adolescent asked me out for a fight

  he was no bigger than a two-bob fart

  he was a deft exponent of the martial arts

  he gave me three warnings trod on my toes

  stuck his fingers in my eyes and kicked me in the nose

  a rabbit punch made my eyes explode

  my head went dead and i fell in the road

  i pleaded for mercy and wriggled on the ground

  he kicked me in the balls and said something profound

  gave my face the millimetre tread

  stole my chop suey and left me for dead

  through rivers of blood on fractured bones

  i crawled half a mile to the public telephone

  pulled a corpse out the call box held back the bile

  and with a broken index finger i proceeded to dial

  i couldn’t get an ambulance the phone was screwed

  the receiver fell in half it had been kung fued

  a black belt karate cop opened up the door

  demanded information about the stiff on the floor

  he wore a bamboo mask he was genned on zen

  he finished his devotions and he beat me up again

  thanks to that embryonic bruce lee

  i’m a shadow of the person that i used to be

  i can’t go back to salford the cops have got me marked

  enter the dragon … exit johnny clarke

  36 hours

  36 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

  steel shoes on the stone cold floor

  i hear the screws screaming in the corridor

  the bad news and the slamming of the door

  the what did i does and the what am i here fors

  shades of doubt fall deeper than the slag mine

  lights out sack time

  hard cheese and a chest complaint

  one man sneezes another two faint

  sufferin’ jesus this ain’t

  my venue

  the man through the mesh says time to crash

  the creeping flesh of a nervous rash

  the last man to make a dash

  is on the menu

  here’s the boss with a mouth full of emeralds

  a maltese cross and a pocket full of chemicals

  jack frost snappin at the genitals

  wash my cosh it’s a visit from the general

  rule out sub section nine

  lights out sack time

  the killer gorilla with the perspex hat

  says i say so and that’s that

  take out the dog bring back the cat

  scrape out the cafeteria rats

  stab the rabbit feed the swine

  lights out sack time

  time flies slides down the walls

  part of me dies under my overalls

  i close my eyes and a woman calls

  from a nightmare

  the chronic breath of the dead collides

  with the rattle of the waste disposal slides

  no flowers for the man who died

  in the bombscare

  he’s in the frigidaire

  freezing in these paper jeans

  standing stiff in a dead man’s dream

  tobacco barons and the closet queen

  walk on the walls wank in the beans

  shave shit a shower and a shoe shine

  that’s it sack time

  everybody looks like ernest borgnine

  that’s it

  36 hours on the battery farm

  a blindfold and a broken arm

  i got the cold shoulder sleepin’ in the barn

  who’s barn what barn their barn

  the old soldier and his old-world charm

  lift that weight drag that woodbine

  lights out mate sackarooni time

  lights out sack time

  the pest

  the pest pulled up propped his pushbike on a pillar box paused at a post and pissed ‘piss in the proper place’ pronounced a perturbed pedestrian petulantly and presently this particular part of the planet was plunged into a panorama of public pressure and pleasure through pain the pandemonium prompted the police who patrolled the precinct in pandacars to pull up and peruse the problem while pickpockets picked pockets in pairs ‘arrest the pest who so pointedly pissed in that public place’ pleaded the peeved populace practically palpitating the powerful police picked up the pest pronounced him a pinko a pansy a punk rocker and a poof they punched him poked him pummeled his pelvis punctured his pipes played ping-pong with his pubic parts and packed him in a place of penal putrifaction he pondered upon progressive politics put pen to paper and provocatively and persuasively propogated his personal political premise – pity: a police provacateur put poison pellets in the pest’s porridge the police provocateur was promoted and the pest was presented with the pulitzer peace prize … posthumously.

  drive she said

  i hit the deck

  like a ton of lard

  when the back of my neck

  hit something hard

  a yard of lead

  or a judo chop

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  up my sleeve

  she stuck me with a spike

  said you can leave

  whenever i like

  give me bread

  take me round the shops

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  there was eloquence

  style and poise

  and pure malevolence

  in her voice

  move it man

  chop chop

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  she wore leatherette jeans

  airwear shoes

  i never yet seen

  such a rare hairdo

  a natty dread

  with a borstal crop

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  a morbid silence

  filled the air

  threats of violence

  always there

  straight ahead

  now take me round the block

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  what she cried

  i never heard

  as colours slide

  and voices blurred

  the lights were red

  stuck on stop

  drive she said

  i’ll
tell you when to stop

  there was eloquence

  style and poise

  and pure malevolence

  in her voice

  move it man

  chop chop

  drive she said

  i’ll tell you when to stop

  valley of the lost women

  the 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

  the eyes of the night sub zero

  peep through the windows of sleep

  everyone’s husband is a hero

  and ghost insurance men creep

  through the valley of the long-lost women

  dreaming under the driers

  eating sleeping and slimming

  according to what is required

  they walk through three-colour brochures

  depicting palms on aqua marine

  in the half-built hotels out of focus

  they’re mending the vending machines

  where sixty italian love songs

  are sung to a million guitars

  they lick their drinks on sticks

  among the men with important cigars

  numb to the digital numbers

  two three … four five six

  lost in a faraway rhumba

  where the oildrums are beaten with sticks

  she left her heart in frisco

  she left her room in a mess

  she left her hat in the disco

  she never left her address

  the diving board springs to assistance

  throws you off from the shore

  telephones ring in the distance

  there are lifts getting stuck between floors

  a truck turns into a cul-de-sac

  springtime turns to ice

  rucksacks turn into hunchbacks

  musclemen turn into mice

  in a painless panorama

  with its perpendicular might

  the women are going bananas

  and disappearing from sight

  gaberdine angus

  gaberdine angus at the magazine rack

  views the situation from the front to the back

  nobody’s looking for the man with the mac

  stick it right back on the stack jack

  gaberdine angus had a mean trick

  had a mean wang made women sick

  here’s one now go on act the goat

  gaberdine angus open your coat

  why waste words why risk resistance

  when you can climax from a distance

  shock tactics designed to stun

  gaberdine angus it isn’t done

  she don’t run she don’t scream

  your pink extremity has gone unseen

  she doesn’t give the usual nervous cough

  so zip up angus and then zip off

  i don’t wanna be nice

  here he comes now

  the fat fingers the expert eyes

  the same old how d’you do

  disgust is just his dumb disguise

  he wants a word with you

  his problems are the end

  a mouth needs exercise

  the last thing i need is another friend

  i don’t wanna be nice

  i don’t wanna be nice

  i think it’s clever to swear

  i would seek some sound advice

  but i would look elsewhere

  what you see is what you get

  you only live twice

  a friend in need is a friend in debt

  i don’t wanna be nice

  no we never met before

  i’m happy to say

  far from perfect strangers

  i like to keep it that way

  i’m not your psychoanalyst

  i’d rather talk to mice

  you’re so easy to resist

  i don’t wanna be nice

  i don’t wanna be nice

  i think it’s clever to swear

  i would seek some sound advice

  but i would look elsewhere

  your face is an obvious case

  you shouldn’t put it about

  this is neither the time nor place

  to sort these matters out

  what you see is what you get

  you only live twice

  a friend in need is a friend in debt

  i don’t wanna be nice

  health fanatic

  around the block against the clock

  tick tock tick tock tick tick tock

  running out of breath running out of socks

  rubber on the road flippety flop

  non-skid agility chop chop

  no time to hang about

  work out health fanatic work out

  the crack of dawn lifting weights

  a tell-tale heart reverberates

  high in polyunsaturates

  low in polysaturates

  a duke of edinburgh’s award awaits

  it’s a man’s life

  he’s a health fanatic so was his wife

  a one-man war against decay

  enjoys himself the hard way

  allows himself a mars a day

  how old am i what do i weigh

  punch me there does it hurt no way

  running on the spot don’t get too hot

  he’s a health fanatic that’s why not

  running through the traffic jam taking in the lead

  hyperactivity keeps him out of bed

  deep down he’d like to kick it in the head

  they’ll regret it when they’re dead

  there’s more to life than fun

  he’s a health fanatic he’s got to run

  beans greens and tangerines

  and low cholesterol margarines

  his limbs are loose his teeth are clean

  he’s a high octane fresh-air fiend

  you’ve got to admit he’s keen

  what can you do but be impressed

  he’s a health fanatic give it a rest

  shadow boxing punch the wall

  one-a-side football

  what’s the score one all

  could have been a copper too small

  could have been a jockey too tall

  knees up knees up head the ball

  nervous energy makes him tick

  he’s a health fanatic he makes you sick

  track suit

  two-tone stretch nylon yellow stripes on navy blue

  i got a brand new track suit i got the old one too

  i got the old one too

  i got a new track suit

  i wear it every day

  keeps me cool and casual

  i wore it yesterday

  i wore it yesterday

  i got a new track suit

  i wear it everywhere

  track me down to the training ground

  maybe i’ll be there

  maybe i’ll be there

  wearing the brand new track suit

  medicine ball to boot

  knee pads an airline bag

  and the overall smell of brut

  the overall smell of fruit

  expert eyes have scrutinized

  and scientists agree

  one track suit would suffice

  but you’re better off with three

  you’re better off with three

  two-tone stretch nylon yellow stripes on navy blue

  i got a brand new track suit i got the old one too

  i got the old 1 … 2

  sleepwalk

  i can wriggle out of arrangements you can’t pin me down

  i tend to dodge engagements i’ll see you around

  am i OK not really no i seem to stop and
start

  anything i can do let me know i think i’ll sleepwalk outta my heart

  sleepwalk in the daytime access to all floors

  sleepwalk in a straight line leading out of the door

  shockproof city a world of eyes marvellously dead

  these friends of mine need exercise they sleepwalk instead

  no guardian angel intercepts the sleepwalking kid

  who sleepwalks the fractured steps to the sleepwalking skids

  the way the private eye goes about his ancient art

  i can do it with my eyes closed sleepwalk outta my heart

  stop look listen to the zombie the hootchie kootchie blues

  black slacks and a crombie gucci shoes

  a psycho stud and his steady girl are heading right this way

  when all the footsteps in the world sleepwalk away

  the victim of ambition loitering with intent

  the human condition of who knows what percent

  it’s goodbye from me till now i never really cared

  sleepwalk anyhow anywhere

  sleepwalk talk faster and faster one of these talking birds

  sleepwalk away from disasters like they never occurred

  too much devotion keeps me apart

  sleepwalk in slow motion outta my heart

  in the creepy zilch of subways the sub pedestrian plod

  sleepwalk on Sunday beneath the drones of god

  such a hazardous pastime i’m gonna be smart

  sleepwalk for the last time outta my heart

  sleepwalk on duty see myself in a pool

  a sleepwalking cutie a sleepwalking fool

  stuck in the afternoon they do go on

  when normal service is resumed i’ll be sleepwalking gone

  beezley street

  far flung crazy pavements crack

  the sound of empty rooms

  a clinical arrangement

  a dirty afternoon

  where the fecal germs of mr freud

  are rendered obsolete

  the legal term is null and void

  in the case of beezley street