drinking coffee and shouting at the radio.
What is this god-forsaken world coming to?
I don’t like the wars and I don’t like the leaders.
I don’t like the propaganda they feed us.
So I turn on the TV.
What are they telling us?
The guy next door appears to be famous.
He’s slightly better looking
than the guy next to him and he’s got a
revolutionary way of shopping.
So I lock up the flat.
Go to the corner shop.
Buy me a bottle.
Believe me I like a drop.
Sit on the corner and talk to the African.
They moved ‘em all in now they’re moving them out again.
My boyfriend’s got a new phone.
It doesn’t make sense.
The kisses he sends me all cost ten pence.
And we’ll all watch Eastenders
‘cos they seem to know
that life is a dull phase
that everyone goes through.
Pick out an album.
Pick out a tune.
If it’s right for you honey it’s
right for me too.
And we’ll all sit together on a sofa of love
and we will talk shit ‘till the sun comes up.
We paid four ninety-nine from Furniture Factory.
I wanted the chair but they never got back to me.
And I can’t help but wonder who’d be sitting there now
if anyone gave a shit in old Silvertown.
It glistens. It tarnishes too.
You love me and I love you.