“This Night Has Opened My Eyes”
(morrissey)
In a river the colour of lead
Immerse the baby's head.
Wrap her up in the News of the World
Dump her on a doorstep, girl.
This night has opened my eyes
And I will never sleep again.
You kicked and cried like a bullied child
A grown man of twenty-five.
Oh, he said he'd cure your ills
But he didn't and he never will.
Oh, save your life
Because you've only got ONE
The dream has gone
But the baby is real.
Oh, you did a Good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.
Oh, you did a Bad thing
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
A shoeless child on a swing
Reminds you of your own again.
She took away your troubles
Oh, but then again, she left pain.
So, please save your life
Because you've only got ONE
The dream has gone
But the baby is real.
Oh, you did a Good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.
Oh, you did a Bad thing
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
(morrissey)
In a river the colour of lead
Immerse the baby's head.
Wrap her up in the News of the World
Dump her on a doorstep, girl.
This night has opened my eyes
And I will never sleep again.
You kicked and cried like a bullied child
A grown man of twenty-five.
Oh, he said he'd cure your ills
But he didn't and he never will.
Oh, save your life
Because you've only got ONE
The dream has gone
But the baby is real.
Oh, you did a Good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.
Oh, you did a Bad thing
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
A shoeless child on a swing
Reminds you of your own again.
She took away your troubles
Oh, but then again, she left pain.
So, please save your life
Because you've only got ONE
The dream has gone
But the baby is real.
Oh, you did a Good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.
Oh, you did a Bad thing
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
And i'm not happy and i'm not sad
4 comments:
More merriment from Morrissey? Cheerful little bugger aint he?
Couldn't have put it more succinctly myself. Does M know how much you adore his lyrics. Don't tell him you keep publishing them, he'll sue yer ass into the next century as he needs the cash for a new shirt and a bunch of daffodils. Can't remember where he may have lost the last ones:-{)>
(That's a guy wiv a goatee.)
If that old geezer found out I'd been appropriating his lyrics to make myself look smart (or sad and pathetic, anyway), he'd probably sue me to get back the £1 mil he lost to Joyce a few years ago. Then ravenous Mozzer fans the world over would descend upon my website and leave nothing but crumbs. But he'd soon discover the truth in the saying "you can't squeeze blood from a turnip," and as for his fans, well, I'd put up a sign for some lost fanzine or other I'd thrown together and "aged" in Photoshop, charge them all twenty quid apiece for it, and I'd be the old man's next door neighbour in a week!
And I think he ate the daffodils to sustain him in the 80s in lieu of meat. Just a guess.
Post a Comment