1973

I read the news in a paper:
no flowers, please, donations to charity
like the N.S.P.C.V.d.G.G. -
yeh, send the money
to Guy and Hugh and David and me.

It's a joke,
there is no hope left,
oh, whoever might disagree.

Tell me juicy rumours,
dish me the dirt,
go on and rip the back right off my shirt.

Tell me how I hate Hugh Banton,
tell us that the bank account is zero
and that anyway there's non-one left to play to...
oh, well, there you go.

Are we ever going to get this act together on time?

Recorded in 1973, but not released until 1993 on Virgin compilations The Calm (After the Storm).

Spitting drops of rain flow down
and touch my cheek,
intermingling with my tears
as I silently weep.
Then the fatality of life
presses close and probes in my eyes....
And I'm cold and hungry tonight.

These great black walls of brickwork
bow low and oppress my mind
like the words of people
I thought I'd left far behind;
the presence of the words and walls
is too close and it's far too clear
as the rain keeps washing through my tears,

I read the news in a paper:
no flowers, please, donations to charity
like the N.S.P.C.V.d.G.G. -
yeh, send the money
to Guy and Hugh and David and me.

It's a joke,
there is no hope left,
oh, whoever might disagree.

Tell me juicy rumours,
dish me the dirt,
go on and rip the back right off my shirt.

Tell me how I hate Hugh Banton,
tell us that the bank account is zero