THE SMITHS - THE QUEEN IS DEAD1986
The queen is dead
Take me back to dear old Blighty
Put me on the train for London town
Take me everywhere
Drop me anywhere
At Liverpool, Leeds, or Birmingham
Well, I don't care
I should like to see
Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes
Hemmed in like a boar between arches
Her Very Lowness with her head in a sling
I'm truly sorry - but it sounds like a wonderful thing
Dear Charles, don't you ever crave
To appear on the front of the Daily Mail
Dressed in your mother's bridal veil?
So, I checked all the registered historical facts
And I was shocked into shame to discover
How I'm the 18th pale descendent
Of some old Queen or other
Has the world changed or have I changed?
Oh, has the world changed or have I changed
As some nine-year old tough peddles drugs
I never even knew what drugs were
So I broke into the Palace
With a sponge and a rusty spanner
She said, "Eh, I know you and you cannot sing"
I said, "That's nothing - you should hear me play piano"
We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But when you're tied to your mother's apron
No-one talks about castration
We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
Like love and law and poverty
These are the things that kill me
We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But the rain that flattens my hair, oh
These are the things that kill me
All the lies about make-up and long hair,
They're still there
Past the pub that saps your body
And the church who'll snatch your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb
Past the pub that wrecks your body
And the church - all they want is your money
The Queen is dead boys
And it's so lonely on a limb
Life is very long when you're lonely
Life is very long when you're lonely
Life is very long when you're lonely
Life is very long when you're lonely
Frankly, Mr. Shankley
Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way, but it corrodes my soul
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history
Frankly, Mr Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st Century breathing down my neck
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history
Fame, fame, fatal Fame
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
But still I'd rather be famous
Than righteous, or holy, any day, any day, any day
But sometimes I feel more fulfilled
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
I want to live and I want to love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of
Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise that you wrote such bloody awful poetry
Frankly, Mr Shankly, since you ask
You are a flatulent pain in the arse
I do not mean to be so rude
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr Shankly
Oh, give us money
I know it's over
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as I climb into an empty bed
Oh well, enough said
I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea want to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
Though she needs you more than she loves you
And I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
It's over, over
I know it's over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said:
"If you're so funny, then why are you on your own tonight?
And if you're so clever, then why are you on your own tonight?
If you're so very entertaining, then why are you on your own tonight?
If you're so terribly good-looking, then why do you sleep alone tonight?"
I know, because tonight is just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
With your triumphs and your charms
While they are in each other's arms
It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind, over, over and over
It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
Love is natural and real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight, my love
Love is natural and real
But not for such as you and I, my love
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Never had no one ever
When you walk without ease
On these, the streets where you were raised
I had a really bad dream
It lasted 20 years, 7 months and 27 days
And all of that time I never had no-one ever
Now I'm outside your house
I'm alone and I'm outside your house
I'd hate to intrude
I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm alone
And I never had no-one ever
Cemetry Gates
A dreaded sunny day, so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day, so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side, while Wilde is on mine
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all those lives
Where are they now?
With loves, and hates, and passions just like mine
They were born and then they lived and then they died
Which seems so unfair, and I want to cry
You say, "Ere thrice the sun hath done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as your own
But I've read well and I've heard them said
A hundred times, maybe less, maybe more
If you must write prose or poems
The words you use should be your own
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"
There's always someone, somewhere, with a big nose, who knows
And who trips you up and laughs when you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall
You say, "Ere long done do does did"
Words which could only be your own
And then produce the text from whence was ripped
Some dizzy whore, 1804
A dreaded sunny day, so let's go where we're happy
And I meet you at the cemetry gates, oh
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day, so let's go where we're wanted
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
But you lose, because the lover Wilde is on mine
Bigmouth strikes again
Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said I'd like to
Smash every tooth in your head
Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said by rights you
Should be bludgeoned in your bed
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt, now I know how Joan of Arc felt
As the flames rose to her roman nose and her walkman started to melt
Bigmouth, bigmouth
Bigmouth strikes again and I've got no right to take my place
With the human race
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt, now I know how Joan of Arc felt
As the flames rose to her roman nose and her hearing aid started to melt
Bigmouth, bigmouth
Bigmouth strikes again and I've got no right to take my place
With the human race
Bigmouth, bigmouth
Bigmouth strikes again and I've got no right to take my place
With the human race
The boy with the thorn in his side
The boy with the thorn in his side
Behind the hatred there lies
A murderous desire for love
How can they look into my eyes
And still they don't believe me?
How can they hear me say those words
Still they don't believe me?
And if they don't believe me now
Will they ever believe me?
And if they don't believe me now,
Will they ever, they ever believe me?
The boy with the thorn in his side
Behind the hatred there lies
A plundering desire for love
How can they see the love in our eyes
And still they don't believe us?
And after all this time
They don't want to believe us
And if they don't believe us now
Will they ever believe us?
And when you want to live, how do you start?
Where do you go, who do you need to know?
Vicar in a tutu
I was minding my business
Lifting some lead off
The roof of the Holy Name Church
It was worthwile living a laughable life
Just to set my eyes on the blistering sight
Of a vicar in a tu-tu
He's not strange
He just wants to live his life this way
A scanty bit of a thing
With a decorative ring
That wouldn't cover the head of a goose
As Rose collects the money in a cannister
Who comes sliding down the bannister?
The vicar in a tu-tu
He's not strange
He just wants to live his life this way
The monkish Monsignor
With a head full of plaster
Said, "My man, get your vile soul dry-cleaned"
As Rose counts the money in the cannister
As natural as rain he dances again
The vicar in a tu-tu, oh yeah
The vicar in a tu-tu, oh yeah
The next day in the pulpit
With freedom and ease
Combatting ignorance, dust and disease
As Rose counts the money in the cannister
He dances again and again and again
The fabric of a tu-tu
Any man could get used to
And I am the living sign
There is a light that never goes out
Take me out tonight
Where there's music and there's
People who are young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one, anymore
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people
And I want to see lights
Driving in your car
Oh, please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home
It's their home and I'm welcome no more
And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side, well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine
Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought oh God, my chance has come at last
But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask
Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care
Just driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one
I haven't got one
And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side, well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine
There is a light that never goes out
There is a light that never goes out
There is a light that never goes out
Some girls are bigger than others
From the Ice-Age to the dole-age
There is but one concern
And I have just discovered:
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' mothers
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' mothers
As Anthony said to Cleopatra
As he opened a crate of ale
Oh, I say!
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' mothers"
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' mothers"
Send me the pillow
The one that you dream on
Send me the pillow
The one that you dream on
And I'll send you mine
[mebiz][çözülüm]
["... I'm a looser baby, so why dont you kill me"]