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The Beautiful South
The Beautiful South




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Альбом The Beautiful South


Gaze (2003)
2003
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You're kind of pretty you can cover in make-up
Cover in perfume too
Moonlight, mud fight, any kinda sunlight
Still comes shining through

Stuff it with cakes, see if it breaks
Put it in the oven, see how she bakes
Your kind of pretty you can gas mark 11
But you can't ever overdo

Your kinda pretty, don't need advertising
Your kinda pretty comes with own billboard
Newly-weds nearly-deads
Anyone with bed-stead
Your kinda pretty
You're all they can't afford
Cover your eyes, see if it dies
Move to the city, start dating guys
You're kind of pretty you can try to deny
But eventually you'll thank the lord

You're kind of pretty don't need an umbrella
It knows what weather can do
Sandstorm, rainstorm, anything a cloud's warn
Can't hide the prettiest view

Cover with paints, see if it stains
Take it to a window, press up against
Your kinda pretty you can drag through a hedge
But no-one would believe you'd been through

Your kinda pretty, don't need advertising
Your kinda pretty comes with own billboard
Newly-weds nearly-deads
Anyone with bed-stead
Your kinda pretty
You're all they can't afford
Cover your eyes, see if it dies
Move to the city, start dating guys
You're kind of pretty you can try to deny
But eventually you'll thank the lord

. . .



When you called me a useless druggie
At least you got half of it right
When you called me a hopeless alcoholic
I'm only hopeless after nine at night
And when I said you came staggering home blind drunk
If I didn't you'd get terrible fright
And if this is the land of hope and glory
Where's the land of hope but not quite

I've been scruff bag, dirt bag, always someones binbag
But never been bono or sting
However I dressed never really impressed
So they never got to hear a damn thing
I've been bad man sad man certified mad
But never 007 or saint
Trendsetter go getter international jet setter
Are just a few things that I ain't

The time you told class I was a half wit
Was my very first 50 %
Previous best in any other test
Was either stolen copied or lent
And when you branded me and every single one of my mates
A waste of time and effort to teach
Why d'you give us sums if our only hope was bums
On someone else's deckchair and beach

I've been smart arse, mardy arse, on and off a lard arse
But never been a legend to god
New thing dumb thing even last year's thing
Headbang? - not even a nod!
I've been left-wing, secure-wing, lost stripes, gained winged
We've never caused a lady to faint
Wideboy, ladyboy, read it in the paper boy
A few things they said that I ain't

When popularity soared, hometown and abroad
I spent most of it trying to breathe in
Always ill at ease, too willing to please
An inferior life's bargain bin
When you come from a background of bargain bins
You're bound to fear it ends where it begins
So when nation adored we felt more of a fraud
And too phoney to celebrate wins

I've been scruffbag, dirtbag, always someones binbag
But never been Bono or Sting
However I dressed never really impressed
So they never got to hear a damn thing
I've been badman, sadman, certified mad
But never 007 or Saint
Trend-setter, go-getter, international jet-setter
Are just a few things that I ain't

. . .



Imagine sailing solo around the world
Only to find you've missed a continent out
And as your happy turns choppy and tidal wave swirls
You're wondering why there's no one about

At least Captain Scott actually stood on the spot
Where he planned to put up Union Jack
And though Captain Cook cursed the map that he took
He got near enough for native's attack

That's how it feels trying to navigate you
Even with compass and infinite time
Just when I think I've found some part that's new
I find a flag already up that's not mine

Circling you is journey minus view
Exploration without reason or reward
'Cause when I get near you use an arrow or spear
To prevent my heart ever being shored

The earth ain't flat but it's a simple doormat
Compared to your unclimbable self
The desolate terrain you have to cross to your brain
Just one of your slippery shelves

That's how it feels trying to navigate you
Even with compass and infinite time
Just when I think I've found some part that's new
I find a flag already up that's not mine

And if I ever get close I'll need a banner or post
To hang it from, first there or not
So voyage may uncover a sister or brother
And a friendship that Colombus forgot.

. . .



When was the last time you felt so happy
You had to give yourself a good pinch
When did you ever fail one of life's highs
Without using stepladder or winch
That's why the lifeless crave the past
'Cause when they're flogged, stoned, lynched
They can watch the living fizzle out to nought
Without even moving one inch

That's what keeps you alive
The thought of undeserved death
That's why cynics deep-sea dive
Just to watch someone healthy lose breath
That's what really makes you tick
When the fearless are stopped in their tracks
Optimism looks up counts the stars
Pessimism looks down and counts cracks

That Monday morning moaners club
That meet every week on park bench
At least they've earned their grumble stripes
When they fought tooth and nail in the trench
If you ever sat down in one place too long
They'd need a fork-lift truck and a wrench
Indecision drip feeds modesty
But apathy fails even to quench
That's what keeps you alive
The thought of undeserved death
That's why cynics deep-sea dive
Just to watch someone healthy lose breath
That's what really makes you tick
When the fearless are stopped in their tracks
Optimism looks up counts the stars
Pessimism looks down and counts cracks

And even when it's every man for himself
You still like to stick with the bunch
You'd rather tag along at the back of the crowd
To risk anything on a hunch

That's what keeps you alive
The thought of undeserved death
That's why cynics deep-sea dive
Just to watch someone healthy lose breath
That's what really makes you tick
When the fearless are stopped in their tracks
Optimism looks up counts the stars
Pessimism looks down and counts cracks

. . .



Head over heels is fine
Unless you're in stilettos
Love knows no boundaries
Unless your in one of loves ghettos
Love climb every mountain high
But some of us are stuck in a cell
All you need is love love love
And a bloody good tunnel as well

You could get here by aeroplane or boat
Not unreasonable demands
But I could save myself the price of a ticket,
If I didn't let go of your hands

Never mind killing me getting there
But somebody has to make plans
First embrace shoots you into space
And doesn't give a damn where it lands
Why not take a chance on love?
Even at hundred to one
If promise that we'll never let love die
Within a week one of us'll be gone

Love sure makes the world go round
And takes you for a hell of a ride
But I don't wanna waste time searching for love
When it's already stood at my side
Love will make you blind to the truth
Romantic novels all tell
So I'll spend a little time romancing by myself
But that turned me blind aswell

You can get here by crossing sea or desert
I can barely make Blackpool Sands
Railroad, caravan, save it for the mad man
Lets see if love just stands

Never mind killing me getting there
But somebody has to make plans
First embrace shoots you into space
And doesn't give a damn where it lands
Why not take a chance on love?

Even at a hundred to one
If we promise that we'll never let love die
Then within a week one of us'll be gone

Does the length of journey or heart makes
Really provide any proof
All it really proves is love never moves
When it's right there under your roof
My heart is in the right place
Then what's the point in making that trip
Stay right here with you hand on my heart
See how often you cause it to skip
See how often you cause it to skip
See how often you cause it to skip

. . .



The superfly guy that you're courting now
Used to be a super-swot
And the clothes he thinks look retro
Are more 'Land That Time Forgot'
And if he knows where he was standing
When J.F.K was shot
Chances are though time's passed him by
He's still standing within yards of that spot

So if your hangover feels like the dart board
Whilst the Christians hit bulls-eye
And paranoia that self-employer
Is following in heavy disguise

Off goes intelligence to join high tide
To drift with all the things we let go
Only tidal wave could possibly save
All we let go with the flow
Let go with the flow
Books we may have written, we don't know
Let go with the flow
Some enchanted city we wont go

He who used to float like a butterfly once
Is floating like a glorious moth
And the flygirls you hung around with then
Are lucky if they even take off
Dresses and skirts you thought were in
Everyone a dust-rag or dishcloth
Like every flat beer that they serve around here
We all start life as fabulous froth

So why do you work yourself that hard
When you don't even like the job?
Why do you hate the small-time thief
When it's your own time you'll always rob?

Off goes intelligence to join high tide
To drift with all the things we let go
Only tidal wave could possibly save
All we let go with the flow
Let go with the flow
Books we may have written, we don't know
Let go with the flow
Some enchanted city we wont go

. . .



Woman goes to heaven, it's not important when
'Cause as soon as she arrives God has to send her down again
'You've got an extra five years to clean up after men'
'I mean no disrespect God, but you better make it ten'

Well if heaven's an improvement I won't mind the extra squeeze
I've got a few more birds down there God, after losing bees
Trying to lose their bees

So don't be shocked who queue-jumps or who just calmly waits
A certain type of behaviour the guest list just creates
No time for lively discussion
No time for televised debates
The well-meaning soon become the well meant
It's the hard sell or hell at the gates

Alcoholic finds himself outside the pearly gates
I've only got one worry God, a few outstanding slates
Any tab you used to have's been passed to so called mates
And after they've paid-up they're off to the land of empty crates

Heaven is a glass, neither half empty nor half full
So do us all a favour God and give that thing a pull
Give that thing a pull

So don't be shocked who queue-jumps or who just calmly waits
A certain type of behaviour the guest list just creates
No time for lively discussion
No time for televised debates
The well-meaning soon become the well meant
It's the hard sell or hell at the gates

Model turns up hours late, he had to get it right
If you're gonna look cool in heaven wear something more than white
Vanity's close to arrogance, just slightly more polite
Fashion show a jumble sale at a slightly different height

So don't be shocked who queue-jumps or who just calmly waits
A certain type of behaviour the guest list just creates
No time for lively discussion
No time for televised debates
The well-meaning soon become the well meant
It's the hard sell or hell at the gates

. . .



Planning permission tied to post
We read when we're waiting for bus
Is always double-checked 'cause we so often suspect
They plan to build something on us
What they'll build, neither here nor there
It's what they'll bury that counts
And how far down they'll push us this time
And how far back up we'll bounce

Angels are born with wings not springs
Devils always born with horns
And beautiful bird only bothers to sing
If beautiful day ever dawns

Angels and devils ain't so easy to spot
As movies like to portray
A devil appears with a cunning veneer
You often only notice too late
If he says he's got wings keep and eye out for springs
Make sure your angel is real
And of all of these things it's the song that he sings
And how the song makes you feel

Angels are born with souls not goals
Devils always search for the high
So beautiful birds sing from telegraph poles
And devil's song fills the whole sky

Yes, birdsong belongs
In the highest of places not where devil performs
Beautiful bird and song
Shouldn't bother to sing if audience mutters and yawns
Mutters and yawns…………

. . .



I've seen these people described as mad
But find men kissing too odd
Say all their friends are gay when in fact
They gave a man in tight vest a quick nod

And all those threats if you keep kissing
They're gonna go report you to god
Yet if Christ really had that many disciples
There was probably one of you in his squad

And any news you receive would lead you to believe
Of the other world little is known
So that every gay presenter should really wear a sweater
With kids don't try this at home

There are gay men you've knocked homophobics clean out
When most would have turned and ran
Gay men who hate it when they get called queer
And gay men who don't give a damn
Some gay men go wearing women's makeup
Just to prove to themselves they can
And on the masculine side of this whole wide world
There is no 101% man

Those who have only seen Gay Pride
Think it's a life long license to shock
But men have kissed men since way back when
If you were caught you'd be put in a stock

And any news you receive would lead you to believe
Of the other world little is known
So that every gay presenter should really wear a sweater
With kids don't try this at home

There are gay men who've knocked homophobics clean out
When most would have turned and ran
Gay men who hate it when they get called queer
And gay men who don't give a damn
Some gay men go wearing women's makeup
Just to prove to themselves they can
And on the masculine side of this whole wide world
There's no 101% man

And when the Tom Robinson band sang
"Sing if you're glad to be gay"
We all joined in, and though most of us weren't
The song seemed to show us the way

And as the song reached it's end you looked for the friend that
That made singing along feel O.K
It aint San Francisco but your end of term disco
And the dancefloor's beginning to sway

There are gay who've knocked homophobices clean out
When most would have turned and ran
Gay men who hate it when they get called queer
And gay men who don't give a damn

Some gay men go wearing women's makeup
Just to prove to themselves they can
And on the masculine side of this whole wide world
There's no 101% man
Man

. . .



Why forbidden fruit always looks so sweet
Hanging down like devil's food, from highest branch on tree
Yes, woman should be satisfied
Be happy with her lot
But sometimes half of him
Seems better than the whole I've got
Yes, sometimes half of hell right here
Is better than a heaven forgot

Yeild not to temptation is only good advice
If true love happens just the once and never ever twice
Yes, woman should be satisfied
Be happy with her lot
But sometimes half of him
Seems better than the whole I've got
Yes, sometimes half of hell right here
Seems better than a heaven forgot

We were happy with happily ever after
But only if the plot
Had bad guys we could boo and hiss
And good guys we could not
We probably feel that second best
Could actually be much worse
But you're kind of drawn to chocolate
When you've tasted wafer first
Yes you're kind of drawn to chocolate
When you've tasted wafer first

Hunt me down like your other prey let your claws take hold
If what I've chosen's truly grey, make tiger black and gold
Yes, woman should be satisfied
Be happy with her lot
But sometimes half of him
Seems better than the whole I've got
Yes, sometimes half of hell right here
Is better than a heaven forgot

We were happy with happily ever after
But only if the plot
Had bad guys we could boo and hiss
And good guys we could not
We probably feel that second best
Could actually be much worse
But you're kinda drawn to chocolate
When you've tasted wafer first
Yes, you're kinda drawn to chocolate
When you've tasted wafer first

'I Can't Get No Satisfaction'
so sang all the guys
The biggest single breeding ground
For a girls 'I Will Survive'

We'll be happy with happily ever after
But only when the song
Admits 'Can't Get No Satisfaction'
Wasn't all our wrong
We probably feel that second best
Could actually be much worse
But you're kind of put off wafer
When you've tasted chocolate first
Yes, you're kinda put off wafer
When you've tasted chocolate first

Why forbidden fruit always looks so sweet

. . .



I meant every word I said
But only said half the words I meant
There's a load more where they came from
I suppose will get left unsent
Like conversation started
but don't know which way it went
Lips don't miss the wish for a kiss,
And time doesn't care how its spent

And the only way a white lie shows
Is the length of the gap between truths
Imprison any feeling usually displayed
And they wave white sheets from roofs

Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right
So it was simplifed to one great fib
Anyone else who couldn't put it into words
Just got their lips round good sex or a cig
So if you finally spit it all out
Make sure you're wearing a bib

And I suspect those described as driven
Are usually driven by their mum or their dad
And motivation something you work on
If you cant spell properly or add
And if self-belief is something you started
Its probably in a book I once had
Self-belief the first target of thief
The last thing on the mind of the mad

And when it comes to your final speech
And as usual the cats got your tongue
Be glad we're living in a world struck dumb
Where the fat lady hasn't yet sung

Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right
So it was simplified to one great fib
Anyone else who couldn't put it into words
Just got their lips round good sex or a cig
So if you finally spit it all out
Make sure you're wearing a bib

From where I'm sat, the lady's not fat
She's skinny with just the one lung
And the send-off planned the thirty-piece band
Have been sacked and probably hung

And anyone here who's a 'not sure'
Got here but how they forgot
And anyone dared ask a 'what for?'
Will get what for on the spot
So if you finally spit it all out
Make sure you're out of your cot

. . .



Don't feel bad if you wake up feeling suddenly old
More the realisation that you've let yourself be covered by mould
Age is not something you wrap up if you're feeling the cold
It's a laugh ten times harder at a joke eleven times told

Down to the churchyard, check out the vaults
Dig up the coffins, unscrew the bolts
No better reminder, no strong enough salts
To show this pitiful few that we've missed the last waltz

Don't feel bad if you're feeling past you sell-by date
Like the roller coaster ride slowed down to a serious debate
Oh the weather you tell them you're ready or whether you wait
Does someone place a hand on your shoulder you point the way to the gate

Down to the churchyard, check out the vaults
Dig up the coffins, unscrew the bolts
No better reminder, no strong enough salts
To show this pitiful few that we've missed the last waltz

You don't count the birthdays 'til your out on your own
They come thicker and faster and too damn late to postpone
And wisdom's the last thing the scientists willing to clone
Science advances, maturity dances alone

. . .



Solitude has only existed
Since overspill demanded a view
Fimnding own space has only been around
Since the invention of the bustling queue

Forcing everyone to be a loner if they didn't join the regular crew
And if you weren't in the in crowd you were castaway
Don't let them castaway you

Tight-knit families a tighter knot
A stranglehold or turn of the screw
And the only reason we wanted out
Was the sort crowd that ordinary drew

Emptiness needs rowdiness
A reminder of why it's recluse
Rowdiness needs the gap emptiness leaves
To wallow in glorious youth

Tight-knit families a tighter knot
A stranglehold or turn of the screw
And the only reason we wanted out
Was the sort crowd that ordinary drew

So as long as Man Friday's gone by Saturday
You shouldn't find the argument start
You don't need time, nor space, nor room
Just a story of which they're not part
And why a gentle request to be left alone
Feels like a kick in the heart
And why any hug lasting more than one second
Always seems your cue to depart

By all means be your own person
But they choose the time and the place
Please feel free to do your own thing
But make sure it's done at their pace

. . .


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