Альбом Little Comets

this is a tale of a man of a boy of a girl of a wife,
for putting your hands into trousers and knickers can destroy a life.

tension grows, the signs of cavorting still cling to his clothes,
tension mounts, he tells that platonic love never counts.

adultery,
adultery,
adultery,
adultery

in every kitchen there's people who listen through cracks in the walls,
so she plays the fly as he lets in his love through a sullied back door.

she screams NO!
her eyes are transparently starting to glow,
he shouts YES!
he figures that it's a good time to confess,

to adultery,
adultery,
adultery (tears in the morning),
adultery,
adultery (no signs of warning),
adultery.

he never said he loved her that much,
she didn't act like she cared at all for conversation,
so when you're living without being touched,
it's no surprise that there will be deviation.

Everything's ending,
there's no use pretending,
our couple are fine.
Her love is expiring,
while he sits pespiring,
just playing out time.

Tension builds,
just think of the children he wills as she spills.
Tears from eyes,
So tired and blinded by subtext and lies

Adultery,
Adultery,
Adultery (tears in the morning),
Adultery,
Adultery (no signs of warning),
Adultery,
Adultery,

Adulteryyyy.

Oh language is dead,
So she believes,
I'm looking up,
Socially bereaved,
Just like Carlisle,
She lies on the border,
Disorder surrounds,
Her every noun,

One Night In October,
The clocks go back,
And she attacks me oh,
Grabbing my left shoulder,
Suspects in texts that leave her wrecked-uh-oh,
One night in October,

I sit her down,
And say this must stop,
'Cos all we do,
Is argue then shop,
She goes to Boots,
I go to Argos,
Complete with deceit,
We stalk each aisle,

One night in October,
She throws a towel, the sink, a scowl-uh-oh,
One night in October,
With more invective,
Than the average detective,
Questions me on the lawn,

With doors ajar,
Tonight I will sleep in my car,
One night in October,

Oh intensive care,
Intensively she's aware,
That I, I miss the heat,
Solace and sway of the sheets,
Oh, this dashboard's so hard,
Can't cushion the beats of my heart,

One night in October,
Oh oh,

One night in October,
The clocks go back,
And she attacks me oh,
Grabbing my left shoulder,
With more invective,
Than the average detective,
Questions me on the lawn,

With doors ajar,
Tonight I might sleep in the car,
One night in October,

Change my socks,
Like I change the letters,
Girls with three syllable names,
Are often so easy to shame,
Turn my keys in the lock,
Preferring to leave her in shock,
So I don't have to explain,

Joanna Joanna Joanna Joanna,
Joanna Joanna Joanna Joanna,
It's the morning, the morning and it still doesn't feel right,
Joanna Joanna Joanna Joanna
It's the morning, the morning and it still doesn't feel right,
Joanna, Joanna take me home,
Joanna, Joanna take me home,

Her waking bones,
Bring a new dilemma,
I'm standing with shoelaces tied,
And all my intentions implied,
My cheeks are reddening quick,
So she brings her fingers to lips,
So I don't have to explain,

Joanna, Joanna,
Joanna Joanna Joanna Joanna,
It's the morning, the morning and it still doesn't feel right,
Joanna Joanna Joanna Joanna
It's the morning, the morning and it still doesn't feel right,
Joanna, Joanna take me home,
Joanna, Joanna take me home,

Strangle me with your words,
Twist and turn like a chinese burn,
Sully me with lines,
A thousand promises,
I only ever wanted one,

Joanna,
Joanna take me home,
Joanna,
Joanna take me home,
Joanna,
Joanna take me home,
Joanna,
Joanna take me home,

He comes in and prepares to attack her for,
All the feelings he perceives she's lacking the,
Floorboards crack with his lack of restraint so,
Her black eyes they agree with this story say,
Two black eyes they agree with this story say,

Clouds are forming both inside and out,
As he arches shoulders and prepares to shout,
Tears they fall on each sides of the pane so,
Jealous wrists that agree with this story his,
Poignant fists they agree with this story say,
Two black eyes that agree with this story her,
Two black eyes they agree with this story,

Oh,
All of your saturdays,
Could end up in woe,
Hide behind curtains,
And fall between floor,
Just look at what you've become,

A victim of,
His broken love,
Where tension and silence,
Can turn into violence,

A victim of,
His broken love,
Where tension and silence,
Can merge into violence,

He strikes out and prepares now to leave her for,
All the summers of torment and treason her,
Hand still shakes as she opens the door,
Her blue eyes they depart from this story say,
Tearful eyes play a part in this story say,
No black eyes to agree with this story oh,

A victim of,
His broken love,
Where tension and silence,
Can turn into violence,

A victim of,
His broken love,

Oh,
All of your saturdays,
Could end up in woe,
Hide behind curtains,
And fall between floor,
Just look at what you've become,

Economic downturn you can get a job
Apologetic parents you can get a job
Sometimes I'm feeling just like Cupid with a bow and arrow
And I'm firing it at people who remain too shallow

In the B R I T I say British Isles
The streets are bleak, the kids are running wild

Terror on the pavement, panic in the street
Tension in the twisted silence of our sheets
Sometimes I lie awake for hours feeling so synthetic
While my eyes are screaming out for something way more epic

It's the B R I T I say British Isles
The streets are bleak, the kids are running wild
Terribly bold they try so hard
Never look up to see the stars
In the B R I T I say British Isles

Leeds screaming Bristol torn
Belfast and Hull forlorn
Oxford dreaming in denial
With all it's gleaming spires

Stoke bleeding Glasgow yawns
Dundee and Cardiff mourn
York breaking Sheffield cries
All fears are multiplied

B R I T I say British Isles
The streets are bleak, the kids are running wild
Terribly bold they try so hard
Never look up to see the stars
In the B R I T I say British Isles

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Remember this began in Italy,
She looked at me and smiled so prettily,
Just like the waves, you made me feel so ill,
So up and down, I wish that'd you'd be still,
I said: "I'll have to buy a camera,
So I can take a photototototograph of her"
The negatives are etched upon my mind,
So black and white there's nothing left to find,

Where do you go?
When I haven't made up lost time,
Where do you go?
When I haven't made up lost time,

Remember thinking this will end in tears,
I close my eyes to make you disappear,
Just like the sun, the heat won't go away,
And all I'm wet is tears from yesterday.
I love your hands, I love your face and eyes,
I love the way she only ever tells me lies,
But then you looked, you looked and laughed at me,

Where do you go?
When I haven't made up lost time,
Where do you go?
When I haven't made up lost time,

Eh eh eh,
Because you're taking, you're taking, you're taking me under,
Because you're taking, you're taking, you're taking me under,
Because you're taking, you're taking, you're taking me under,
Because you're taking, you're taking, you're taking me under,

Lost, lost time,
Lost, lost time,
Lost time,
Lost, lost time,
Lost, lost time,
Lost time,

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Oh decry,
With these two fingers I can show you why,
That I'm restricted,
When you kiss me so promiscuously,
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go,
Oh delay,
Without these shackles,
I can show the way,
To make you obfuscate,
And push aside utensils,
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go,

When all this commotion,
Dies down she'll deliver,
A subtle soliloquy,
Straight to his pillow,
Which frowns as she strikes it,
With fists that insist,
The light of their fridge door,
Was always a metaphor,

I'm bewildered,
So please explain to me,
Right now Mathilda,
How all the friction in your diction,
Leaves me staring at you,
I'm still screaming go-tilly-go,
I'll decide,
With these two fingers,
I can show you why,
Despite my lethargy,
And mispronunciation,
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go,

When all this commotion
Dies down, she'll deliver,
A pointed soliloquy,
So full of agony,
He'll be embarrassed,
And walk on the terrace,
Whose slate floor he always found,
Seemed like a metaphor,

Aaiiii...

P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s,
The promises,
P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s,
(Sick of) the promises,

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