1. |
A New-Fangled Spanner
03:43
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Festering putrid / mouldy ole parkbench
maybe its june / maybe july
maybe its special brew / maybe its crucial brew
sot with a six-pack / under the sky
a thing with no name / that binds em together
a thing with no name / can't be seen with the eye
somewhere far away a monk set on fire
a smell of warm petrol comes back down his nose
urgh!
The dinosaurs all creepy lie / squashed up and oozing / the din of their mirth
and we left behind as a wayward tornado / nie wieder / nie wieder
nie wieder / nie wieder / nie wieder / nie wieder
the burning dreck / a dayglo speck / skin boiled of one hand like a glove
like a glove that a surgeon might wear / though useless
ten holes where the fingernails were / urgh!
Lost / lungs fill with blood / pepsi-cola seeping into sand
a sepia photo / a photo all fading / smell of kebab shop at four in the morning
a human brain suspended in a tank of blue liquid
one hundred assorted paperback novels
a thousand tins of baked beans / "best eaten by" date long since expired
none of the above
all of the above
Enough
No more
All shall be in the end as it was before
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2. |
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3. |
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4. |
Dial 'S' for Sundial
03:39
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Someone stole the gnomon but no-one took the blame
Now the time shown on the sundial it always stays the same
And who would fain do such a thing as taking you from me?
There's only two dimensions now of space instead of three
My eyes were closed (x3) when the sun went in
I lost control (x3) of my senses again
I thought you was my evil twin
I lost control
What purpose serves a sundial without its thing to tell?
Unless it were to signify my world lacks time as well.
And now here comes a butterfly and cast her tiny shadow,
Flit eftwise o'er the broken face, now hours pass at random.
Chorus
And what use for the gnomon? Divorced here as it is,
I see the weather turning now and grant my parting wish
And turn these endless days to nights so minutes fall like rain,
'til clouds outnumber butterflies and you are mine again.
Chorus
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5. |
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6. |
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7. |
Please, Miss?
04:07
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Please Miss, can I have my heart back?
The night's gone, it's time that I should start back
Yesterday it seemed like such a fun thing
I thought I felt a little something
Please Miss, can I have my mind back?
It's much too late for me to find that
I'm stuffed with images of your face
No room left - filling up the white space
chorus
And all the moments in between
Between what was and might have been
It was as if some dying star
A burst of light sent from afar
A hundred centuries gone by
To rest refracting in your eye
Please Miss, can I have the time back?
It's much too late for me to wind back
It seems you must have teleported
Julie Christie in A For Andromeda
I wrote a book before I ever met you
Knew then I never could forget you
Life's hard, it never ever lets you
Get what you need to intersect her
And all the aeons up above
Won't get me started up on love
We could go on and on and on
But now my night on earth has gone
The stars aren't fading with the day
it's just the sunrise makes it seem that way
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8. |
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9. |
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I sat on the sofa with Palmer,
The Night Nurse untimely kick in
Then Palmer turned onto the wrestling
The start had commenced to begin.
There's two kinds of people in this world
One sort pathologic divide
The people on earth into two kinds
The other sort don't
I'll sat in the tea shoppe with Palmer
We talked about J.W. Dunne
I substitute mustard for butter
And scoffed as he chokes on his scone
A disc to a specification
Projected say ten years time
The record assuming its amplic form
Subsequent to its decline
I'll sit on the airstrip with Palmer
And wolf down my poached egg on toast
Then help him erecting a deckchair
Taking two hours at the most
Awake in my threadbare pyjamas
Considering the distance between
The past has impended
The present has gone
The future is already been
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Pink Stainless Tail Melbourne, Australia
PST is/was/ever will be: Nick Boddington (bass), Harry Howard (guitar), Sonke Rickertsen (drums), Simon Strong (voice).
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