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 Cake » Lyrics [+ Pievienot +] |
1. _ Maybe I Should Drive
I'm on a B road heading for the sea
To see if hands across the ocean'll shake or wave
Through the whiplash of the windscreen wipers
I can see for miles but all I do is watch the time
At the driver's hands
He harbours thoughts on personal grief
I said "Your hardship's only one of a fleet that didn't go down well."
Listen son, if you'd spent your life in the last lane
You'd have an accent to grind
Punch-drunk on patriotism
Blind-drunk on borderism
Maybe I should drive
While you're cast away the mice'll play
They'll have a license to dog those left back home
Yeah, and what about those poor souls?
Listen son, if you'd spent your life in the last lane
You'd have an accent to grind
Punch-drunk on patriotism
Blind-drunk on borderism
Maybe I should drive
As I jumped to these conclusions
He thumped his feet on the brakes
But we still hit a songwriter trudging through the rain
Scrambled out and watched him rest in pieces
Said a prayer and rifled through his pocket
And the side of his mouth still had something to say
"At the toss of a coin
I end up head in the dirt and tail in the air
And yet you can dance away
But be it friend or hard-up man
Fellow or kin
When your chips are down, they're down for good."
more free lyrics |
2. _ Obscurity Knocks
Always at the foot of the photograph
That's me there
Snug as a thug in a mugshot pose
A foul-mouthed rogue
Owner of this corner and not much more
Still these days I'm better placed to get my just reward
I'll pound out a tune and very soon
I'll have too much to say, and a dead stupid name
And though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
Of "Oh, I like your poetry, but I hate your poems!"
Calendars crumble, I'm knee-deep in numbers
I've turned twenty-one
I've twist, I'm bust, I'm wrong again.
Rubbing shoulders with the sheets 'til two
Looking at my watch and I'm half-past caring
In the lap of luxury it comes to mind
Is this headboard hard?
Am I a lap behind?
But to face doom in a sock-stenched room
All by myself
Is the kind of fate I'd never contemplate
Lots of people would cry
Though none spring to mind
And though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
Of "Oh, I like your poetry, but I hate your poems!"
Calendars crumble, I'm knee-deep in numbers
I've turned twenty-one
I've twist, I'm bust, I'm wrong again.
Know what it's like to sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life?
Ever stopped to think and found out nothing was there?
They laugh to see such fun
I'm playing blind-man's bluff all by myself
And they're chanting a line from a nursery rhyme
"Baa, baa bleary eyes have you any idea?"
Yes, I'm learning I must be a veteran
Of "Oh, I like your poetry, but I hate your poems!"
And the calendar's cluttered with days that are numbered
I've turned twenty-one
I've twist, I'm bust, I'm wrong again
(Got to be learning)
Twist I'm bust I'm wrong again
(Feel like a veteran)
Twist I'm bust I'm wrong again
(Calendar's cluttered, days that are numbered)
And I know what it's like to sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life
I know what it's like
more free lyrics |
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