Coda - We're Making Friends With Our Futures​.​.​!​!

from Bitter Lemon by The Chickpea Darlings

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Personally, I rather like this song... clearly, it doesn't convey the most profound sentiment ever committed to song, but it manages to incorporate my Casio VL-Tone (£7.50 from Oxfam, about two decades ago...) and cheerfully parodies the traditional Darling family salutation as we hit our fourth or fifth bottle of Sunday-night grappa. We're not, in case you were wondering, actually making friends with our futures.

Anyway, anyway... it's clearly going to be a bit of an acquired taste, production-wise... so we've made it a coda, so you can just skip to the end if it grates too hideously. There are 11 other songs to fall hopelessly in lust with, after all...

lyrics

Words:

We’re making friends with our futures
We don’t give a fig for the past
We’re making friends with our futures
At last, at last, at last, at last

We’re done with caffeine and parties and staying up ’til dawn
There’ll be no laughing or Smarties or frolics on the lawn
We’re through with nylon and Night Nurse and non-organic cheese
No time for pylons or trans-fats or dodgy R&B
No heavy lifting or kissing or hand-rolled cigarettes
There’ll be no smoking or drinking or writing off bad debts
No time for Brighton or Luton or coming up for air
No need for fruitless emotions or knowing who you are

We’re making friends with our futures
We don’t give a fig for the past
We’re making friends with our futures
At last, at last, at last, at last

No more asbestos or Botox or sugar-coated pills
We’re done with diesel and sunshine and non-prescription thrills
We don’t need ringtones or caring or sticky little scenes
We don’t need pity or handshakes or saying what we mean
We’re done with cruising and boozing and aluminium pans
We’re done with gambling and sharing and all our flaky friends
There’ll be no surfing or cursing or Tuesday evening dates
We’re sick of verses and hooklines and pointless middle 8’s

We’re making friends with our futures
We don’t give a fig for the past
We’re making friends with our futures
At last, at last, at last, at last

Our bodies are going to be temples
Built on the outskirts of town
Mine is going to be rental
The kind that the council tears down

There’ll be no Vimto or funerals or unrequited lust
We’re done with babies and orgies and basic human trust
We’ve been through hubris and kindness, come out the other side
There’ll be no leaping or cheating the political divide
We’re done with rabies and maybes and putting out the bins
We’re through with Lenin and McCarthy atoning for our sins
We gave up smoking and drinking and fumbling in the dark
We’re done with voting and thinking and listening to our hearts

We’re making friends with our futures
We don’t give a fig for the past
We’re making friends with our futures
At last, at last, at last, at last

credits

from Bitter Lemon, released October 2, 2020
Written by Huw Darling.

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The Chickpea Darlings image

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. ... more

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