Marillion
Lavender
Punch & Judy
Script For A Jester Tear
Evening Standard: late one!
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
living in her cellophane world in glitter town
Awaiting the prince in his white Capri
Dynamic young tarzan courts the bedsit queen.
She's playing the actress in this bedroom scene
She's learning her lines from glossy magazines
Stringing all her pearls from her childhood dreams
Auditioning for the leading role on the silver screen.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it`s just another Chelsea Monday.
Drifting with her incense in the labyrinth of London,
Playing games with faces in the neon wonderland
Perform to scattered shadows on the shattered cobbled aisles
Would she dare recite soliliquies at the risk of stark applause.
Hello John, did you see the Standard about four hours ago?
Fished a young chick out the Old Father
Blonde hair, Blue eyes
She said she wanted to be an actress or something
Nobody knows where she came from, where she was going
Funny thing was she had a smile on her face
She was smiling
What a waste!
She'll pray for endless Sundays as she enters saffron sunsets,
Conjure phantom lovers from the tattered shreds of dawn,
Fulfilled and yet forgotten the St. Tropez mirage
Fragrance aphrodisiac, the withered tuberose.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it's just another Chelsea Monday.
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
buried in her cellophane world in glitter town.
Of Chelsea Monday.
She was only dreaming...
Armalite, street lights, nightsights
Searching the roofs for a sniper, viper fighter
Death in the shadows he'll maim you, wound you, kill you
for a long forgotten cause, on not so foreign shores,
boys baptised in wars.
Morphine, chill stream, bad dream
Serving as numbers on dogtags, flakrags, sandbags
Your friend has married your best friend, loves end, poison pen
Your flesh will always creep, tossing turning sloop
The wounds that burn so deep.
Your mother sits on the edge of the world
when the cameras start to roll
Panoramic viewpoints ressurect the killing fold
Your father drains another beer he's one of the few that cares
Crawling behind a saracen's hull
from the safety of his living room chair -
Forgotten Sons, Forgotten Sons, Forgotten Sons.
And so I patrol the valley of the shadow of the Tricolor
I must fear evil for I am but mortal and mortals can only die
asking questions, pleading answers from the nameless
faceless watchers that stalk the carpeted corridors of Whitehall
Who order desecration, mutilation, verbal masturbation
in their guarded bureaucratic wombs
Minister, Minister care for your children, order them not
into damnation to eliminate those who would trespass
against you, for whose is the kingdom and the power and the
glory, forever and ever Amen - Halt who goes there, death,
approach friend
You're just another coffin on its way down the emerald aisle
Where the children's stoney glances mourn your death
in a terrorist's smile.
The bomber's arm places fiery gifts on the supermarket shelves,
Alleys sing with shrapnel dance in a temporary hell
Forgotten Sons
From the dolequeue to the regiment a profession in a flash,
but remember Monday's signings when from door to door you dash,
On the news a nation mourns your unknown soldier count the cost,
For a second you'll be famous but labelled posthumous
Forgotten Sons Forgotten Sons
Ring of roses, they all fall down
Peace on earth and mercy mild, Mother Brown has lost her child
Just another Forgotten Son
Vodka intimate, an affair
with isolation in a blackheath cell,
Extinguishing the fires in a private hell,
Provoking the heartache to renew the license.
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule,
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience.
Wrappped in the christening shard of a hangover,
baptized in tears from the real, tears from the real...
Drowning in the liquid seas on the picadilly line, rat-race,
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth.
Caress Ophelia's hand with breaststroke ambition,
The albatross courtship marrytime tradition.
Sheathed with the walkman wear the halo of distortion,
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation.
But she turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart,
She hung herself around my neck.
From the Time-Life guardians in their conscience bubbles,
Safe and dry in my sea of troubles.
Nine to Fives, with suitable ties,
While I'm cast adrift as their sideshow, (sideshow),
Peepshow, (peepshow), stereo hero,
Be calm, bestill, bewitch, drowning, drowning in the real...
The thief of Bagdad hides in Islington now,
Praying deportation for his sacred cow.
A legacy of romance from a twilight world,
The dowry of a relative mystery girl.
A Vietnamese flower, a dockland union,
A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs.
This magdalene contracts more than favours,
the feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat.
A son of the swastika of '45, parading a peroxide standard.
Graffitti disciples conjure testaments of hatred.
Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedges.
This is Brixton chess.
A knight for embankments - folds his newspaper castle,
A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin,
He'll fade with old soldiers - in the grease stained roll call,
Linger with the heartburn of good friday's last supper.
Son watches father scan obituary columns,
In search of absent school friends.
While his generation digests high-fiber ignorance,
Cowering behind curtains and the taped up, painted windows.
Decriminalized genocide, provided door to door Belsens.
Pandora's box of holocausts,
Gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens,
Waiting, wait..waiting the season of the button,
The penultimate migration,
Radioactive perfumes for the fashionably,
For the terminally insane ... insane
Do you realize,
This world is totally fugazi!
Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries,
Where are the poets, to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary.
Garden Party held today, invites call
the debs to play,
social climbers polish ladders, wayward sons again have fathers,
edgy eggs and queing cumbers, rudely wakened from their slumber,
time has come again for slaughter on the lawns by still Cam waters.
Champagne corks are firing at the sun again
Swooping swallows chased by violins again
Straafed by Strauss they sulk in crumbling eaves again.
Apertifs consumed en masse display their owners on the grass
Couples loiter in the cloisters, social leeches quoting Chaucer.
Doctor's son a parson's daughter where why not and should they oughta
Please don't lie on the grass, unless accompanied by a fellow,
may I be so bold as to suggest Othello.
Punting on the Cam is jolly fun they say
Beagling on the downs Oh please come they say
Rugger is the tops a game for men they say.
Angie chalks another blue, mother smiles she did it too
Chitters chat and gossips lash, posers pose pressmen flash.
Smiles polluted with false charm, locking onto Royal arms,
Society columns now ensured, return to mingle with the crowds
Oh what a crowd.
Light switch, yellow fever, crawling
up your bathroom wall
Singing psychedelic praises to the depths of the china bowl
You've got venom in your stomach, You've got poison in your head
You should have listen to the priest at the
confession when he offered you the sacred bread.
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
he knows, you know, but he's got problems.
Fast feed, crystal fever, swarming through a fractured mind
Chilling needles freeze emotion, the blind shall lead the blind
You've got venom in your stomach, You've got poison in your head
When your conscience whispered, the vein lines
stiffened, you were walking with the dead.
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
He's got experience, he's got experience, he knows you know
but he's got problems, problems, problems.
He knows... Slash wrists, scarlet fever,
crawl under your bedroom door
Pumping arteries ooze their problems,
through the gap that the razor tore
You've got venom in your stomach,
You've got poison in your head
You should have listened to your analyst's
questions when you lay on his leather bed.
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
he knows, you know, but he's got problems.
Blank eyes, purple fever streaming through the frosted panes.
You learned your lesson far too late from the links in a chemist chain.
You've got venom in your stomach, You've got poison in your head
You should have stayed at home and talked
with father listen to the lies he fed.
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
he knows, you know, but he's got problems.
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
he knows, you know he's got experience,
he's got experience, he knows you know
he knows you know.
I'd be really pleased to meet you if
I could remember your name
But I got problems with my memory ever since I got a winner in the fame game
I'm a citizen of Legoland travellin Incommunicado
And I don't give a damn for the Fleet Street afficionados
But I don't want to be the backpage interview
I don't want launderette anonymity
I want my handprints in the concrete on Sunset Boulevard
A dummy in Tussauds you'll se Incommunicado
I'm a Marquee veteran, a muti-media bonafide celebrity
I've got an allergy to Perrier, daylight and responsibility
I'm a rootin-tootin cowboy a Peter Pan with street credibility
Always making the point with the dawn patrol fraternity
Sometimes it seems like I've been here before
When I hear opportunity kicking in my door
Call it synchronicity call it Deja Vu
I just put my faith in destiny- it's the way that I choose
But I don't want to be a tin can tied to the bumper of a
Wedding limousine, or currently residing in the where are the now file
A toupee on the cabaret scene
I want to do adverts for American Express cards
And talk shows on prime time t.v., a villa in France
My own cocktail bar and that's where you're gonna find me
Incommunicado
Sometimes it seems like I've been here before
When I hear opportunity kicking in my door
Call it synchronicity call it deja vu
I just put my faith in destiny it's the way that I choose
Incommunicado
Do you remember, chalk hearts melting
on a playground wall?
Do you remember, dawn escaped from moonwashed college halls?
Do you remember, the cherry blossom in the market square?
Do you remember, I thought it was confetti in our hair
By the way didn't I break your heart?
Please excuse me, I never meant to break your heart.
So sorry I never meant to break your heart.
But you broke mine.
Kayleigh is it too late to say I'm sorry.
Kayleigh could we get it together again.
I can't go on pretending that it came to a natural end.
Kayleigh I never thought I'd miss you,
and Kayleigh I'd hoped that we'd always be friends.
We said our love would last forever,
so how did it come to this bitter end.
Do you remember, barefoot on the lawn with shooting stars
Do you remember, loving on the floor in Belsize Park
Do you remember, dancing in stilletos in the snow
Do you remember, you never understood I had to go.
By the way, didn't I break your heart ?
Please excuse me I never meant to break your heart
So sorry, I never meant to break your heart,
But you broke mine.
Kayleigh, I just want to say I'm sorry,
but Kayleigh I'm too scared to pick up the phone.
To find you've found another lover to patch up our broken home.
Kayleigh, I'm still trying to write that love song,
Kayleigh it's more important to me now you're gone.
Maybe it'll prove that we were right
Or it will prove that I was wrong.
I was walking in the park dreaming
of a spark
When I heard the sprinklers whisper,
Shimmer in the haze of summer lawns.
Then I heard the children singing,
They were running through the rainbows.
They were singing a song for you.
Well it seemed to be a song for you,
the one I wanted to write for you, for you, you.
Lavenders blue, dilly dilly, lavenders green.
When I am King, dilly dilly, you will be Queen.
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
I.O.U. for your love, I.O.U. for your love.
Lavenders green, dilly dilly, lavenders blue.
When you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you.
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
I.O.U. for your love, I.O.U. for your love.
For your love, for your love, for your love.
Punch, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy,
Punch and Judy.
Washing machine, pinstripe dream stripped the gloss from a beauty queen.
Punch and Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy.
Found our nest in the Daily Express, met the Vicar in a holy vest.
Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy.
Brought up the children, Church of E, now I vegetate with a color TV.
Worst ever thing that happened to me, oh for D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Oh Judy!
Whatever happened to pillow fights?
Whatever happened to jeans so tight? Friday nights?
Whatever happened to Lover's lane?
Whatever happened to passion games? Sunday walks in the pouring rain?
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy,
Punch, Punch, Punch.
Curling tongs, mogadons,
I got a headache baby, don't take so long.
Single beds, middle age dread, losing the war in the waistlands spread.
Who left the cap off the toothpaste tube, who forgot to flush the loo?
Leave your sweaty socks outside the door,
Don't walk across my polished floor, Oh Judy!
Whatever happened to morning smiles?
Whatever happened to wicked wiles? permissive styles?
Whatever happened to twinkling eyes?
Whatever happened to hard fast drives? compliments on unnatural size?
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy,
Punch, Punch, Punch.
Propping up a bar, family car, sweating out a mortgage as a balding clerk.
Punch and Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy, Judy
World War Three, suburbanshee, just slip her these pills and I'll be free.
No more Judy, Judy, Judy no more.
Goodbye Judy!
So here I am once more in the playground
of the broken hearts,
one more experience, one more entry in a diary, self penned
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride
Too late to say I love you, Too late to restage the play
Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday.
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts
Too much, Too soon, too far, to go,
too late to play, the game is over.
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride
I'm losing on the swings, I'm lossing
on the roundabouts, the game is over
Too late to say I love you, Too late to restage the play
The game is over.
I act the role in classic style of
a martyr carved with a twisted smile
To bleed the lyric for this song
to write the rites to right my wrongs
an epitaph to a broken dream to
exorcise this silent scream
A scream that's borne from sorrow.
I never did write that love song the words just never seemed to flow
No sad in reflection Did I gaze through perfection
and examine the shadows on the other side of mourning
and examine the shadows on the other side of mourning
Promised wedding now a wake
The fool escaped from paradise will look over his shoulder and cry
Sit and chew on daffodils and struggle to answer why?
As you grow up and leave the playground where you kissed your prince
and found your frog, Remember the Jester that showed
you tears, the script for tears.
So I'll hold my peace forever when you wear your bridal gown
In the silence of my shame the mute that sang the siren's
song has gone solo in the game I've gone solo in the game
But the game is over
Can you still say you love me Can you still say you love me
Can you still say that you love me.
I was flicking through the channels
on the tv
On a Sunday in Milwaukee in the rain
Trying to piece together conversations, trying to find out where to lay the
blame
But when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one here
That's left to blame, blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain
I heardd Sinatra calling me through the floorbaords
Where you pay a quarter for a partnership in rhyme
To the jukebox cying in the corner
While the waitress is counting out the time
For when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one really
Left to blame, blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain
I know what I feel, know what I want I know what I am
Daddy took a raincheck
Cos I know what I want, know what I feel I know what I need
Daddy took a raincheck, your daddy took a raincheck
Ain't no one in here that's left to blame but me, blame it on me, blame it
on me
Well the toughest thing that I ever did was talk to the kids on the phone,
When I heard them asking questions that I knew that
That you were all alone, Can't you understand that the
Government left me out of work, I just couldn't stand the
Looks on their faces saying what a jerk
So if you want my address it's number one at the end of the bar
Where I sit with the broken angels clutching at straws and
Nursing our scars, blame it on me, blame it on me
Sugar mice in the rain, your daddy took a raincheck,
Your daddy took a raincheck
Where do we go from here
They're boarding up the synagogues uzis on a street corner
You can't take a photograph of uzis on a street corner
The DJ resigned today they wouldn't let him have his say
A surface scratched where the needles play uzis on a street corner
Where do we go from here
Terror on the Rue de St. Denis, murder on the peripherie
Someone else in someone else's pocket, Christ knows
I don't know how to stop it
Lay poppies at the Cenotaph, the cynics can't afford
To laugh, I heard in on the telegraph there's uzis
On a street corner
Where do we go from here
The more I see the more I hear the more I find the fewer answers
I close my mind, I shut it out but you know its getting harder
To calm down, to reason out, to come to terms with
What it's all about
I'm uptight, can't sleep at night, I can't pretend everything's
Alright. My ideals my sanity, they seem to be
Deserting me but to stand up and fight I know
We have six million reasons
They're buring down the synagogues uzis on a street corner
The heralds of the holocaust uzis on a street corner
The silence never louder than now, how quickly we forgot
Our vows, this resurrection we can't allow, the uzis
On a street corner
Where do we go from here
We buy fresh bagels from the corner store
Where swastikas are spat from aerosols
I sit in the bar sipping iced white russians
Trying to score but nobody's pushing
And everyone looks at everyone's faces
Searching for signs and praying for traces
Of a conscience in residence, are we sitting on
A barbed wire fence, chasing the clouds home
We place our faith in human rights
In the paper wars that tie the redtape tight
I know that I would rather be out of this conspiracy
In the gulags and internment camps
Nameless faces in frozen ranks
I know that they would rather be
Standing here besides me chasing the clouds home
We place our faith in human rights
In the paper wars that tie the redtape tight
I know that I would rather be out of this conspiracy
In the gulags and internment camps
Nameless faces in frozen ranks
I know that they would rather be
Standing here besides me chasing the clouds home
Racing the clouds home
You can shut your eyes, you can hide away
It's gonna come back another day
Racing the clouds home
But where do we go from here
