Mine's a Double!
East End Boys
Hold On, Don't Let Go
Love at Third Sight
“The Journey” (5:34)
Female pop star:
“I don’t think I could have done this without the support of my friends, family…and…um…it’s been an emotional rollercoaster; like fate, you know? Yeah, but like, it’s been one incredible journey…”
Give me a break honey, for Christ’s sake
You ain’t got a clue what a struggle takes
Been on a journey? You ain’t moved a yard
Sounding like everyone else out there isn’t that hard
Putting nonsense lyrics over a contemporary composition
Don’t want to be an original just settle for tradition
But no, no, I’ll humour you girl
You been traveling the globe an emotional whirl
Nightly blood-shed violence; some geezer kicks your door
Another sleepless night and conversations with the law
That rite-of-passage that’s a hard ol’ life
Not obsessing on social media over shares, comments or likes
The ReverbNation charts; the YouTube views and shit
Your pouting Instagram photos; your epileptic fits
Male solo artist:
“Man I have to work all day, like. Why ain’t local radio playing my songs? I put in all the clichés, you know; heartache and love so what did I do wrong? It has a nice piano line and a chorus you can sing. One Direction make it work so why aren’t I worth a damn…”
You wanna know why eh? Because there’s 20 million like you
Want the green, won’t bleed red, all blue blood; black that ain’t true
All tweak and faked; no soul, emotion, no point
So long as you get the money you don’t care about this joint
Could get them buzzing with a catchy beat and slick rhyme
That would take some talent though; a little bit of time
But don’t bother yourself, no, it’ll be okay we’ll make do
Guess there’s a pioneer out there; a couple, a few?
Wanna make a difference then cut the talent show crap
Don’t give me that hard-luck bullshit; it’s all fallen in your lap
You ever seen a fight they didn’t show on Netflix?
I know you’ve dated so losers and no some no-good pricks
I’d rather have my music heard by a few ‘cos the hurt is real
Don’t give a damn ‘bout Kiss F.M. so long as I can feel…
Like me, a real person; saying what’s happening out there
All you sound-alike bands; your clean-cut and well-quaffed hair
“We’d like to thank our fans this year for supporting the album and inspiring the music. It’s been really hard, but you know, but it has been our best year and one hell of a journey…”
Excuse me mate, toss that work around; you even know what it means?
It ain’t a spiritual thing or emotional definition or a dream
It is physical progression, a movement then I’ll listen man
I don’t hear anything ground-breaking in your 3-chord jams
Foo Fighters riffs, Arctic Monkeys vocals, a girl on your mind?
It seems like miss what’s-her-name ain’t really been too kind
Ah bless, she broke your heart? Must be the fucking first
Because everyone’s doing it the same and putting it all in verse
Why not pick your language carefully; do something quite bold
Because that whining and ball-bitchin’ is getting somewhat old
Throw in a key change; a nifty or sleepy chorus
How could something so fresh ever go and bore us?
“A new Indie band with a promising future. Catchy choruses and stunning vocals that are getting people excited. Songs that deal with very real-life issues and…”
You been penniless lately? Felt the sting of depression strike?
Or did some naughty boy in Nikes just run off with your bike?
Can’t afford a Caribbean holiday so you’ll have to go to France
I’ll put this all down in writing of the public give me a chance
How about you sleep alone or spend a night out on the street?
All those who struggle that you walk past begging at your feet
The kids with no happiness; no prospects, no fun
You have that silver spoon in your mouth; well they have a gun
When they get free they’ll document it over an industrial loop
Some liquid bass, cutting words; something more astute
May not be a chart smash; the teenage girls may get vexed
It won’t appeal to your Facebook posts, first-world problems, texts…
Death of the Sweetheart is here giving an even-hand education
Antifreeze in Summer in your veins brings about a new sensation
Let’s make a change and take it back to make the future bright
Because what we have right here? Well (laughs) oh yeah…right
Girl band member:
“Thanks to everyone that’s listened to us. Those struggles we had this year with the chart positions and break-ups. Having the fans’ confidence, like, has you know? It’s been a real blessing; helping us every step of the way on this... incredible journey”.
Mine’s a Double! (3:32)
Oi, oi, don’t want no trouble
Oh boy if I get buried under the rubble
Savloy no-one’s going to burst my bubble
Oi mate, make mine a double!
Right it’s Friday that would make this wine o’ clock!
Except let’s start with beers wouldn’t want the lads to mock
Three layers-thick at the bar; what the ‘ell!
If that geezer knocks my pint I’ll send him to Hell!
Don’t want to fight just ignite a J.D. and coke!
Throw a Jagerbomb in there a Courvoisier, mad jokes!
I’ll fall on my arse I’m not a turtle; I’ll be straight back!
Show the girls some muscle; flash a little crack
By the time it comes to close I’ll be wasted on the street
Lying in a daze, ambulance and paramedics by my feet
Then it’s off to hospital me, Darren, Mick and Den
Hey hey by the morning break I’ll be back at it all again
“Let’s break this down shall we?
Why not sort your life out. What are you boozing for?
You know alcohol is a depressant so I don’t want to bore
But get a grip; have a life and maybe on a Friday night
You write a song, do something productive not star in fight
The hazy heads and expensive meds.; does it really make it better?
You’re A&E, D.O.A., D.U.I., D.I.V.; try choosing some different letters”.
Back at The King’s Head and Suzy’s looking pretty firm
Get another pint and yeah bruv, think it’ll be my turn
Take her to an alleyway and seduce her from behind
Then when we’re done I’ll walk her home; that would be kind?
Right now I’m, wankered; and man this pool table’s upside down!
(Laughs) It’s alright Daz; another Stella will turn it the right way round
I may be late for work again but the boss I know he’ll be mad
Screw it we’re only young once; having fun out with the lads
No harm done apart from some broken arm; he’ll walk it off!
(Landlord): Last call people!
You what? I’m not having that, he’s well soft!
I pay that guy’s wages; what you looking at you mug!?
Let’s have five more for the road and get away from all these thugs!
“Let’s break this down shall we?
(Starts to fade down):
Do I need to repeat myself, it just seems like…”
“Three years in a row you’ve been voted the most popular girl’s name
For even-more years before you’ve been the boys’ favourite dame
Give it is this life and live it in the next
The wordplay you scream out every time you have s-e-x
Istanbul not Constantinople; an empire all-but purged
Amelia you’re breaking our heart; shaking our confidence daily”.
It must have been last Friday and I was at the local K.F.C.
I flashed my glance in your direction; you chatting at your friend Tracey
Your fake fur and false tan; that attitude was pretty real
Those bed notches on your cheek; this girl’s out for a thrill!
Was chatting shit to Dave whilst ordering my bargain bucket
As you looked my way tried to smile, but, oh man, fuck it!
I blew my nerve and paid my words you laughed that girlish coo
Tottering your 3ft heels to that outside Beemer; all shiny, new and blue
Kissing that cropped-haired guy with tattoos; a muscled prick I see
Your chaperone, dog with a bone, one-night man, she wouldn’t want me
That cheeky grin you threw me as that car pulled away
Gave me some false hope; I explained this all to expertly to Dave
So I left with the chicken and hope in heart; mayonnaise on jeans
We cracked a crude sexual one-liner; well you know what I mean!
A vision in Essex astro-suede those boys all like it rough
But behind it all Amelia is quite shy; she ain’t really that tough
The girl from west of Mayfair; the boy from the east of Hackney Wick
Yeah, this could happen so all you fools can just hit the bricks!
Now I down a can of Budweiser and head to the Club U.S.A.
To the local spot where the underage psychos all play away
The bouncer starts all shirty and wants to see some I.D.
I flash a nervous smile and a hand over a handsome bribery fee
Past the vomiting couple doing it doggy on the stairs
Through the doors to the Viper Room where hope battles with despair
Sweaty pissheads rhapsodise to Calvin Harris, Swedish Mafia or some shit
Rude boys slipping Es discreetly to 16-year-old girls well off their tits
To the toilets, ah yes, a confidence boost; every toilet door being pounded
Orgasms among the muted bass-lines all my confidence was compounded
Oh Amelia, you’re breaking my heart, you’re shaking my confidence daily!
So I fight my way to the bar, pushed asunder by some leery dick
One racist geezer shouts “mental oriental!”; Jesus some people are so thick!
Down another G&T, wish these V.I.P.s and G.I.T.s would R.I.P.
Although not in peace because you can’t hear a word among all this noise
No humanity just profanity; no eye contact, just people staring at expensive toys
Just about to call it quits whilst Dave calls up for a taxi
He turns and says “Ain’t that the K.F.C. bird and her mate Tracey?”
Every eye swerves verve and every boy turns to perve
An angel from south of Highbury; these clowns all got a nerve!
Their Mockney accents and cheap lines: “You must have fallen from Heaven”!
Give us a break mate, what are you, like eleven?
Nah, I’m out of here; I accidentally brush Amelia on my way out
Grab my coat from the pink-haired girl with the purple lipstick pout
The girl on my mind she ameliorating my life; excuse my crafty wordplay
If I play it cool and causal, you know it might well be my day!
Alone in the July air as siren’s blare the fuzz are here
Cuffing all the hooligans; getting too fresh, seven too many beers
While the wagons pull away, see Amelia fumble for a Marlboro Light
I drift in and seize the chance and say: “Don’t I know you, right?”
We share a lame old joke regarding queuing in line for our K.F.C.
I laugh all nervous and lean in, she smiles and kisses me
Dave distracts Tracey with a Shakespearean aside; I hail a cab
We buckle in and race up-town destined for my pad
Arriving at the curb we get out: “’ere mate, keep the change!”
Get heavy in the bedroom I show her my full histrionic range
It’s all a blur the next morning see the lipstick mark on my pillow
Knickers on the bed stand, radio playing that song about Amarillo
Walking back from the bathroom I see a note there and read it aloud:
“Darling I don’t feel very proud. I’m a career girl and don’t commit; I really had a ball. Maybe I’ll see you in K.F.C. (lol) or maybe not at all”
I wipe away a tear; that girl stole my heart and...
Oh shit, she stole my phone, wallet, everything!
What a mug I can hear it now, the boys’ choir they will all sing:
“Easy son, it’s not your fault don’t let her get to you
By this time tomorrow she’ll be dumping number 2-0-2
That girl she ain’t a true love; not a true love see mate
You two were different classes this ain’t your fate
A decent and naïve boy a fine motor but second-hand car
Just thank your stars you didn’t end up with that vixen Amelia”.
Amelia, you’re breaking our heart, you’re shaking our confidence daily.
East End Boys (8:12)
This is Death of the Sweetheart and Antifreeze is Summer. Rhymes not slick as the streets or pack that dizzy beat; but last night, saw this…
ACT 1, SCENE 1:
Joe: What the hell, you seen Facebook status, who is this Tina girl all hating?
(Reading it out): “Joe Buckley is a real prick and should die”. You hear that mate?
Hero: Just let it go mate; it’s only social media so don’t let it grate
Blow it off bud, we’re next in line get your coinage primed
Joe: Nah fuck that; Claire Menzie liked this post; what a bloody joke!
Share, like, comment?
Claire that Dyke must be on something!
Hero: Who the Hell is Tina anyway
That girl I saw you with the other day?
Joe: Just a girl I dated, so overrated
Wouldn’t want to procreate so hit it hard to third base
Then she was all in my grill; wouldn’t let me go until…
Kept saying she wanted to date; hung up wanted to chill with mates
Now she’s posting this scorn for all and sundry to see
Look, now; likes are up to 6; comments now up to 23!
Hero: I’m having the spicy zinger burger. You?
Joe: True, alright I’ll let it lie
Even though I hope that bird dies
Look mate it’s that fine piece Amelia
She’s be the top of my bucket list
The finger-licking chick I’d like to kiss
Speaking of buckets, Tina can kick it when I bring it
Hero: Just cool it mate, you ain’t thinking at your best
Just let’s go home and get rid of all this stress
Joe: Nah get the boys and the Ford Fiesta
When Amelia bends can see the crack in her jugs, ah!
Pray one day she’ll let me mess with her
Get the rest of the boys from the Isle of Dogs
That girl has got me down and grinding me cogs
Know you’d rather spend a night chatting reflective pronouns
I’d rather take revenge; that bitch the low-blow, hoe-down
So let’s get ourselves sharpish into town
(Across town the girls offer their retort…)
Claire: Oh Tina, that slag Joe is cussing you bad
That post I commented; said he’d like to cut me bad
What a tool a loser, he’s so sad
Truth must hurt; that ain’t a man he’s a lad!
Tina: Look at the Facebook status
“That Chelsea slag Tina really hates us”
Current location: Camden
Let’s go in tandem, get the rest of the girls
Get The Swifts crew
Take on that boy and make him blue
Thinks I’m a slow-honed, low-boned, hoe-down
I’ve seen his mum and galactic bum; takes one to know one!
(Girls all laugh)
Claire: Woah, stop the car- the light are still on
Tony Turner’s Deluxe Knives and Guns
Let’s grab a pistol for fun the geezer owes me one
Tina: Yeah, sure; ain’t that your man Rebecca?
Rebecca: Nah boy was crap in bed; like a 2-inch pecker
Guess this is his way to over-compensate
But nah, it’s cool, we’re sweet, we’re mates
Claire: Be quick mind, we’re going to be late
Tina: Relax Joe’s retarded; doubt he can even drive
By the end of the night he’ll wish he ain’t alive
Not lucky enough for suicide
How dare he hurt my pride!
Hero: Mate, this is going too far
Let’s just grab a quiet pint at the bar
In the morning you’ll be over her
Instead of mock her; have that bird Amelia
Joe: Yeah she’d be good for my ego
Great for the show and blow; a walk down death row
Rich: What you talking about Joe?
Joe: Shut up Rich just drive this shit bro!
Don’t go so freaking slow put down the toe
Tina’s current location: Camden
Damn man, she’s so near!
Just want her to disappear
Rich: Woah, that girl; ain’t that her girl Stacy?
Claire, Rebecca, Tina, Trish; man they look pretty tasty
There they are by their Peugeot 306
Walking into the bar and taking Instagram pics
Hero: Woah look at the new post; that girl’s real sick!
Joe: What! Oh come on; that girl gets on my wick
Okay, we’re here, that’s it!
(Back to the girls…)
Rebecca: That guy across the bar ain’t that Nick Goldfini?
Is it him or global warming melting the ice in my martini?
Trish: That’s a Lambrini you div; you’re stirred and shaken
He always orders doubles that lout; look at the glasses he’s breaking
Spray tan, all mouth, a yob; could I be any clearer?
Rebecca: Ark at her, why don’t you look in the mirror!
(Girls all laugh)
Tina: Yep soon as I see him won’t be fun
I’ll make the boy a Joe-k; excuse the dodgy pun!
Claire: Let’s make it to the Banbury Estate
Know some spots there a couple of close mates
Tina: Wait, The Filth might be there with their lot
Every night there's someone there getting shot
Rebecca: Chill hun; it’ll all be sweet
Got a shooter and ten ready feet
Don’t give a rat’s about that twat!
(To the boys…)
Joe: Says on Facebook she’s off to the Bambury Estate?
We’ll seal them off to seal their fate
Put the hammer down don’t wanna be late
(Fellow drive shouts abuse): Shut up mate!
Act I and our gangs are balkanised and dehumanised
As it progresses we are witness to an incredible journey
Go sit back because mine’s a double
Because man there’s going to be trouble
Death of the Sweetheart, Antifreeze in Summer act II:
ACT II, SCENE 1:
Joe: There’s The Swifts crew but between me and you…
(The two gangs meet)
It’s all spoilt girls, just… Oi Tina, what the Hell!
Tina: Don’t give me that all you do is yell!
Joe: Where you get off telling all those lies?!
Tina: Christ boy, just open your eyes!
Think you have an alibi?
All you do is screw, cheat and lie!
Joe: Excuse my righteous indignation
Back at Dance Station you gave no clear indications
That night we met you wanted no strings
Then you kept bugging me, my phone never stopped ringing
What happened; thought we were in it for the fun?
Oh shit, wait; that girl got a gun?!
What’s the Hell’s going on!
Tina: Relax man, it’s firing blanks
Like you that night to God I thank
Joe: Funny stuff but she’s a nut when goaded
You tell me that pistol ain’t loaded?
Tina: Look I’m sorry should have left it at sex
Joe: No fair play, I was perplexed but I did wrong
You hear that? From the club there; this is our song?
You want to dance along?!
The composition changes to a Latin dance as the lovers dance
Tina: Alright you soppy monkey
You move like King Kong mind, not funky
Joe: Think you’ll find he’s a hairy ape
Just like Becks your blonde mate
Tina: Oi, quiet she’ll hear you
For now I just want to be near you
And Becks will be a mum in 26 days
Not sure about the dad; they’re running the D.N.A.
Never really wanted it to come to a fight
Just kiss me and we’ll dance instead tonight!
Hero: Oh Christ what am I doing here?!
Just wanted to stay home with a beer
We’ll be arrested and I’ll have a record
Why do we need this trouble and negative discord?
Stacy: Which of you called the law?!
Mick: They could have heard you in Cheshire with that mouth of yours!
Stacy: Hey Mick, how would you like a gun in the mouth?
Mick: From what I hear you’ve been sampling guns further south
(Cat calls and howls from the gangs)
Stacy: Yeah, well I’d put a bullet in your brain
By the time I find it I’d have serious finger pain
Mick: Or menstrual pains, you’re such a psycho!
Gun cocks as an approximation of The Rumble (from West Side Story) kicks in
Tina (talking): Hey, hey, just stop, put it down! It’s all okay me and Joe and cool now. We had a chat and want to move to Norfolk. That was the plan to just get away from London.
Joe (talking): Get away from the gang life and start a music store. Still up for it babe?
Tina: Course babe. That incredible journey.
Police car door slams.
Police officer: Metropolitan Police. Nobody move!
Hear the gangs run and disperse.
Hero: Oh God, I don’t need this stress
Why does everyone here want to imitate the U.S.?
Settling feuds with the click of a gun?
Rather be home with Seinfeld re-runs
What happened to the country, we used to be sane?
Now everybody wants to blow everyone else’s brains out
Used to be Great Britain now we’re two-faced U.S. louts
Can’t wait until August when I get to finally emigrate
Female Police Officer: You might as well stop there’s nowhere to run!
Stacy: Who are you to talk pig; I’ve got a gun!
Police officer: Don’t move, don’t move!
Hero: Guys, guys stop, need to call my mum; she’ll-
A shot rings out and hits the Hero. Screams and cries from the gangs.
Ah! Ow; oh crap. (Cries).
The score goes to strings and piano.
Didn’t really want to be part of a gang
Just didn’t fit in and was all alone
Was good people of my age wanted me to hang
Got to get away from the stress I felt at home
Wish I had told my parents
How sorry I am and how much they meant
Mum drinking heavily when she thought I wasn’t looking
Dad counting his mortality in possessions the cancer really shook him
One losing her mind in spirits; the other losing his body through disease
Most days wrapped up in myself never hear their mortal pleas
Through all my loneliness and depression they always cared
Put me first and in return I was never really truly there
I’m sorry I was a burden; I’m sorry I love you!
Now it’s too late if I make it and wake
Just want a chance to be a better man with a sounder plan
These messed-up friends in their dead-end world
These East End boys let the West End girls shoot them...
Police officer: DOWN! Nobody move!
Joe and Tina run.
Joe: Got to stop, he’s dying!
Tina: He’s gone babe; no use in trying
Female Police Officer (on radio): I.C.1. male, 22-year-old; gunshot wound to the chest...
Ambulance Crew: So sorry guys did out best; nothing we could do; can I call anyone for you?
Police Officer: Stacy Pilkington, you’re under arrest for murder!
Nobody else move you’re all under arrest!
Rebecca: You heard her!
Rich: All of this because of a Facebook post for shit's sake!
Rebecca: We didn’t start this; where’s Joe and Tina; they’re our mates!
Ambulance speed away. Hear Hero’s phone beep.
Answerphone: You have one new message.
Hi sweetie this is your mum. Just heard there’s a shooting in Islington. Not sure if you are near? Just being overly-cautious but with me and your dad being unwell- just worried about you. Just wanted to say we love you. Oh, it’s Mum by the way (Dad in the background says “he knows!” as both laugh). Call us back; love you.
Hear feet stomp and out of breath sound as Joe and Tina get into car and program satellite navigation.
Sat Nav: "Choose your destination".
(Taps it in)
"Is Norwich, Norfolk correct?"
"Calculating distance: 123 miles. Set as new destination?"
Slight pause. Tap again as turn engine on and drive away fast.
Hold On, Don’t Let Go (5:30)
It’s Christmas Day and all I want to do is blow my mind away
Can’t smile or think; just numb, I’m not a human any more…
I know it can be lonely and appreciate how bad it can feel
When people think you’re overreacting; try to walk in your heels
“There are people who have it worse in the world” they say again and again
What fucking good is that? You know how I feel; you in my brain?!
You know how it feels to daydream of an eternal sleep?
Every time I see happy lovers all I want to do is hide and weep
Depression is a black dog; hundreds of shades and dozens of breeds
So how do I know which is biting me and when they’re through with the feed?
When you find yourself on the ledge don’t look down just up
You’re a ledge yourself; don't think there's never much hope in that cup
It’s half-empty now but soon enough it’ll be 5/6ths full
All those people that put you down will seem so very small
You stand tall and follow those dreams; make a better world
Those scars will heal, you’ll find a foothold; fall for some great girl...
Who makes it all seem better; makes you a brand-new man
I know it sounds impossible but men and women you can do it…you can.
I don’t know how you feel but I know that you can touch
The soul is just a counterbalance for a heart that feels too much
I know you pray for sunshine when all you get is snow
But please don’t give in; hold on, don’t let go!
I ain’t never kissed a girl or shared my bed at night
I’ve never felt the blinding light of those blessed with perfect sight
But I have hope I’ll write it down in a five-and-a-half minute song
And those who feel just like me would happily sing along?
You’re so low but just know just how far you can truly see
It sounds unlikely, you can smother that beast, and then you’ll be free
No platitudes just gratitude; just the person you used to be
The booze we used to numb ourselves just crumbs in a champagne glass
Lift that flute don’t refute the brute- raise a toast to a bygone past
You see the boys in the band and those Pop stars who have it so easy
Don’t let it knock your voice and aim; don’t let it make you queasy
Don’t compare yourself, just prepare yourself; they’re jealous of what you’ve got
You’re beautiful and strong; if life gives you a gun then take a shot
You don’t need all that jewelry; those B.M.W.s and Mercedes Benz
They are so much poorer than you; your riches they can’t comprehend...
How much stronger you are; your scars are static veins
The honour badge you know it’ll end; it’s only a temporary pain
We’re all in the same boat so let’s all row against this tide
This hell-ride, runaway bride; bad side, brain fried
We’re tongue-tied, happiness dried, just wish you could hide
Look I’ve been there; in fact I’m going through it still
Always so tired of being tired; sick of being ill
Don’t have a lot of excitement; no money or real friends
This ain’t an unquenchable thirst curse I know one day it’ll end
Like a verse I guess that’s played for too long
As a reminder of how far I’ve come I’ll sing along
Because that song made me who I am for better or worse
I’m going into clichés, I’m sorry it’s just a verse
Don’t pray to God he ain’t there; this is all down to you
If you’re kicked down into the gutter be sure to look at the stars
Because only something so bright and distance knows how lonely you are
I’m walking Hell and I’ll keep on walking to those who understand
Just hope these words motivate you in the best way that they can
So I’ll leave it up to you with this because I believe it sums it up
That vessel that was once half-empty is now a full-up cup
When you can’t climb out the hole your heart is far too torn
One day you’ll wake and realise that this morning you’re reborn
Repeat chorus *2
Love at Third Sight (4:14)
It was love at third sight; the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen
An angel with Prada wings; the heroine in all my dreams.
It’s Saturday; I’m down on my luck my wallet clasp is bent
Had to hock the last of my porn DVDs to make this month’s rent
Need to blow off some steam so fumble into a local Costa Coffee
Almost have a cardiac arrest when I see the queue in front of me
The middle-aged woman taking for-bloody-ever to decide
Barista keeps cool but inside he’s planning a double homicide
She goes for a double-shot vanilla, triple-shit hazelnut Frappuccino
I ask for a beer to lighten mood; he sighs; not the worse he’s seen though
Grab a copy of The Sun and make my way to a vacant near-by seat
Dodge the city bankers and the woman with babies swinging from her teat
I flick to the sports pages when an angel sits just ten feet away
I completely ruin the ambiance as my Crazy Frog ringtone plays
I let Mum bounce to answerphone; girl didn’t notice it, she’s alone
Playfully manipulating her bright-blonde fringe distracted by her smartphone
There’s a little glance it’s furtive; man, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen
I keep it together and smile back gotta keep this dirty mind spring clean
Whilst she goes to the counter I read the first page
Some Manchester bird with her breasts out; Simon Cowell’s wage raise
Oh look! A bit about terrorism... continued on page 34
Our government bombing innocent countries; what the fuck we voting for?!
Prime Minister stands proudly grinning like a constipated school boy
Doesn’t have a grasp on reality; let’s overthrown them let’s destroy 'em
Along with his cronies taking the ‘great’ right out of The British Isles
I’m getting wound up sodistract myself with a quiz about menopausal piles
She smiles again I’m nervous so I make shapes with my underground card
Casually quaffing the Americano and trying not to sweat too hard
A barista lets out a scream, got burnt on that milk-making steamer
Drops a cup in his best French; think we’re going to need a cleaner!
As I scribble a crude anatomy on the receipt from the pawn shop
The girl licks the chocolate from her lip and makes my jaw drop
And my phone! Oh shit! The battery’s out; people are staring!
Fumble it back into position and shoot a smile; that’s quite daring!
Giving my T-shirt a pull a man says I’m the loudest chap he’s ever met
Never been in a coffee shop with such a delightfully honest etiquette!
This could well be like Paris except for that unmistakable sound
Of Westminster City Council tearing a historical monument down
I digress as I recall my mother’s advice about not punching above my weight
Guess it’s not that extrapolatable, it just helps me to relate
I’m getting nervous so I read the sports page: Arsenal lose again!
A local beggar comes into the place creating looks of disdain
I plant some gold in his palm; he hooks away my half-empty Americano
Cheeky sod! The girl smiles, seems my generosity has really charmed her
She goes to leave but a crowd blocks me; walk brazen in front of my gaze
Where did that girl go? Which way; oh man, oh my days!
Resigned I scoop the underground ticket; no eye contact don’t want my anger to transfer to them
Although secretly I hope all these lovely people take a running sprint straight into the Thames
Then I see a note left on a table; 11 digits, her name... XX
Today is my day; can’t help beaming mate; oi, oi, success!
Things are on the up, hail a taxi can’t believe my luck
Just then the paper flies out my hand, out of sight...