I apologise
Seem to have arrived
On what items in my bag from your house.
There's cutlery
A tablecloth, some Hennessy
And a book on Presidents deceased.
I'll have them fed-exed to you
It was a strange thing to do
I hope we can still be friends.
Ah, it was not me
But someone else, you see
Twisting the steering reins.
Put a penny in the slot and make an
Artificial li-ii-iight shine
Leave go-ooo. Mark old and line.
I don't give advise
But be wise and think twice
Before getting involved in a game.
Where the minority
Face the majority
Who are faceless and born without names.
Was it knock synch when
We came across three men
They had church candles wrapped in newspaper.
I bought two from them
And I'll lit one for you
I hope the message made it's way down the wire.
Put a penny in the slot and make an
Artificial li-ii-iight shine
Leave, go, my golden arm
The soul of a dog
He's alive and not gone
To the farm like the others said.
A Rhodesian richback
Off the beaten track
In a furniture shop down on the quays.
For the lonliness you foster
I suggest Paul Auster
A book called Timbuktu.
Put a penny in the slot and watch the
Drunken sailor boy dance.
She will not let you be
Her lov-ver.
She goes out looking for
The taxi.
Her phone is ringing straight to
Message-minder.
Send out a battalion to
Find her.
Put a penny in the slot and count the
Swans through a te-elescope.
I can't help from cryin'
I wish you were mine.
When I was seventeen
I followed my dream
Up into a high-rise block.
The adventures of Augie March
By Saul Below
Was all I had for company.
At night time I'd lie
In Beckingham pike
With tears like flashbulbs.
And recall my treasure-
Searching days
In the rock pools as a kid.
To the remains of
The cherub plains
Or around the bonfire in Nailors cove.
Good company and grief
Sit like a dark leaf
Sits beside a singing nett-le.
Put a penny in the slot and make an
Artificial li-ii-iight shi-iine
Leave, go, my golden arm
Writer(s): Fionn Regan
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