1. |
||||
|
Words:
You’re not going to stay together
Just scrape away the glue
All that’s left’s an act of Faith
And she’s not really into you
But hang on, girls, here’s Captain Yeats
Erasing history
Scribbling out your awkward pauses
Those inconsistent memories
It’s like the Dalai Lama taught you nothing but mah-jongg
Can I get a signal, sister? Are we wired up wrong?
And while a nation grieves
He’s read it in your tea leaves
Guess he saw right through you all along
That you’re not going to stay together
Krishnan said so on the news
Predicting your disintegration
In God’s psychic centrifuge
All your shy, bewildered atoms
Flung off round the universe
Some of you in Coney Island
Some of you in Dungeness
And it feels like Margaret Atwood gave you nothing but her ’flu
Do you hear the pages bleeding out? You turning blue?
Chapter two, you lose the plot
Read one, you’ve read the bloody lot
No last-page rapprochemonts for you
There’s been some karmic admin error
Now you’re not going to stay together
It’s like Leonardo gave you only half a smile
We could’ve been titanic, sugar; gone down in style
Don’t know how you’re going to cope
No friendly hand to raise the velvet rope
No way to vault that great divide
You’re not going to live forever
And you’re not going to stay together
No
|
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2. |
||||
|
Words:
By the time I quit the priesthood, I pray your sickness is long gone
Don’t you listen to that sickness; don’t you two get along
Talulah, here, still needs you; needs you more than air
Naming her emotions; advice on how to cut her hair
If Sister Edie taught us anything, it’s try to be concise
So why write an opera when a pop song will suffice?
So kiss it off, it’s not forever
Just kiss it off, it’s just another stupid year
Kiss it off, you’re young and clever
A little too clever, I fear
Talulah sends you poppies, your medicine, some magazines
A breath of intercession, a touch too soft to be perceived
A voice that’s cut from sunlight, words that taste of blood
The tiny heart-shaped hand grenade that bursts the dam of love
Talulah hears you sometimes, praying in the dark
Slender as a saline drip ’cos you eat only art
And she says
Kiss it off, it’s not forever
Just kiss it off, this is just another stupid year
You’ll work it out, you’re young and clever
A little too clever, I fear
Yes, kiss this off, it’s not forever
Just kiss it off, it’s just another wasted year
You’ll work it out, you’re young and clever
Maybe little too clever, I fear
Just a little too clever
|
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3. |
The Thing About Lions
03:35
|
|||
|
Words:
The thing about lions
What you don’t know can’t do no harm
The thing about lions
Geneva’s like my second home
The thing about lions
A Volkswagen’s the cut-off ride
The thing about lions
You’re worthless if you’ve got no pride
I’ll call you Davey if I may
Just need to set the record straight
From the Valley Of The Kings
Through Kazakhstan on to Beijing
Never had much time for school
But it’s crazy what those kids can do
They won’t touch you if you’re with me
It costs a fortune to be free
You see, the thing about lions
They don’t turn down a photograph
The thing about lions
You can stretch right out with the seat pushed back
The thing about lions
That shit don’t help my roses grow
The thing about lions
Just one more thing before you go
I’d say I had ADHD
If I didn’t spent so much time asleep
Hey, are you recording this?
Insurance? That’s for pessimists
And I don’t care what the brochure says
I need exotic meats, cathode rays
And yes, I know I’m truly loved
But Davey, that’s just not enough
Because the thing about lions
Well, they like to lie down with the lamb
The thing about lions
They’re far more into songs than bands
The thing about lions
Don’t mean to keep you in your place
The thing about lions
You can see my house from space
Three good emotions is enough for anybody
Any more than five and you’ll just spend a lifetime saying sorry
But the thing about lions
We all get hungry when we’re bored
And the thing about lifetimes
They’re less fun with a safety word
What’s the safety word?
Christ, what was that safety word?
Was it something like ‘decency’ or ‘bacon’ or ‘scooch’ or ‘fudge’ or ‘Early Grey’ or ‘Barcelona’..?
The thing about lions
Well, they know a lion who knows a lion
And the thing about lions
Lie down, play dead, and you’ll be fine
|
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4. |
Your Hungry Ghosts
04:37
|
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|
Words:
Your hungry ghosts
Your hungry ghosts
When I coalesced from chaos
A billion years BC
I could scarce imagine
What you held in store for me
I cast off my reptile mantle
I circled high above
First I invented cigarettes
Then I invented love
It was s’posed to be a joke
But somehow it caught on
But I’d never have invented sex
If you’d been more articulate
And I’d found some way of getting to
The Buddhist shrine inside of you
And I’d never have invented death
If you’d just played nicely with yourself
But that was something you were never going to do
Your hungry ghosts
Your hungry ghosts
You lick Cointreau from your fingertips
The library ablaze
From Southwold Pier to paradise
Every face erased
Distilling sweet amnesia
A billion hungry ghosts
You bleached out nostalgia
Pulled the plug on hope
You said it was a gesture
But somehow it caught on
But I’d never have invented sex
If I’d been more articulate
And I’d found some way of getting through
The mussel shell inside of you
And I’d never have invented death
If you’d just played nicely with yourself
But that was something you were never going to do
Something you were never, ever going to do
Something you were never, ever going to do
So your happiness is my concern no more
Your outré dress is my concern no more
Your big sister pose is my concern no more
Your deathless prose is my concern no more
Your immune response is my concern no more
Your claim to France is my concern no more
And your careless laugh is my concern no more
And your pet giraffe, she’s my concern no more
And your hungry ghosts
And your hungry ghosts
And your hungry ghosts...
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The Chickpea Darlings Letchworth Garden City, UK
'Riot' has OFFICIALLY left the building. Thanks, Darrin.
The Darlings: Middle-aged bedroom
miserablists with C86-ish tendencies, The Chickpea Darlings have seen the future and don't care for the cut of its jib. Their dry-as-a-biscuit pop vignettes provide the perfect soundtrack for speculating on the madness to come. Viva Donald Trump, global warming & the death of democracy. Viva the Darlings.
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