Something For The Weekend
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She said There's something in the woodshed
and I can hear it breathing
it's such an eerie feeling, darling
He said There's nothing in the woodshed
It's your imagination
end of the conversation, darling
Something in his heart told him to come clean
He was not who he claimed to be
Something in his genes told him to pretend
'Twas something for the weekend
But she said There's something in the woodshed
I know because I saw it
I can't simply ignore it, darling
So he said Now baby don't be stupid
Get this into your sweet head
There ain't nothing in the woodshed (except maybe some wood)
Something in his heart told him to come clean
He was not who he claimed to be
Something in his jeans told him to pretend
'Twas something for the weekend
I'll go all the way with you, if you'll only do the same for me - go and see
If it's nothing like you say
then you can have your wicked way with me
He went down to the woodshed
They came down hard on his head
Gagged and bound and left for dead
When he woke she was gone with his car and all of his money
Once there was a time
when my mind lay on higher things
And once there was a time
I could find pretty words to sing
But now, well now I find
it saves time to say what you mean
I know it seems so unrefined
but it's time to let off some steam
Oh come on!
Everybody knows that No means Yes
just like glasses come free on the N.H.S.
But the more I look through them the more I see
I'm becoming more like Alfie
Once there was a time
when a kind word could be enough
And once there was a time
I could blindfold myself with love
But not now - now I'm resigned
to the kind of life I had reserved
for other guys less smart than I
Y'know - the kind who will always end up with the girls
And besides
everybody knows that No means Yes
just like glasses come free on the N.H.S.
But the more I look through them the more I see
I'm becoming more like Alfie
Oh come on!
I see oriental paper globes
hanging like decomposing cocoons
while exotic candles overload
the dusty air with their stale perfume
And I see lentils, beans, seaweed and rice
in jars on the windowsill
And it ain't hardly enough to feed the mice
running behind the lines of allergy pills
All these things will come to pass
when heroes of the middle class
face up to their responsibilities
I see an Indian fertility God
he's got thirty seven limbs to spare
And tasteless tie-dyed tablecloths
that double up as evening wear
And I see naked bodies twist and turn
on the futon of dreams fulfilled
But their three-year-old kid seems unconcerned
he'd rather swallow all those allergy pills
I see unspeakable vulgarity
institutionalised mediocrity
infinite tragedy
Rise up little souls - join the doomed army
Fight the good fight - wage the unwinnable war
Elegance against ignorance
Difference against indifference
Wit against shit
My words fly up to heaven, my thoughts remain below
Words said without feeling never to heaven go...
All these things will come to pass
when heroes of the middle-class
face up, repent, and pay the price
for accidentally creating life
An oversight for which they must atone
and sacrifice their own
In And Out Of Paris & London
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It is a far far better thing that I do now than I have ever done before
It is a far far better place that I go to than I have ever known before
My slap 'n' tickle made her giggle, made her wiggle like a willow tree
so suggestively
So I suggested
She protested
I persisted till she said Well OK
and I said Wey-hey!
In or out - of one thing there can be no doubt
Out or in - this is not a sin - it's not even original
and hey, we're all individuals - so let the games begin
I fall in love with someone new practically every day but that's OK
It's just the price I pay for being a man (if that's really what I am)
And I refuse to take it all too seriously
It's such a strange activity far too peculiar to be taken any other way
Don't wait until tomorrow - do it today
In out in out in out in out in out in out in out
Shake it all about
Ladysmith wants you forthwith to come to her relief
Burn your briefs you leave for France tonight
Carefully cut the straps of the booby-traps
and set the captives free
But don't shoot 'til you see her big blue eyes
Then sound the charge breathe your final breath
and charge into the valley of death
Cannon to the left and cannon to the right
they'll go bang bang bang all night
We'll fight them on the beaches
yes, we'll fill'm full of lead
fighting naked in the open air
We'll fight them in the kitchen, in the bathroom
in the garden shed
fighting the good fight any-fighting-where
So sound the charge breathe your final breath
and charge into the valley of death
Cannon to the left and cannon to the right
They'll go bang bang bang all night
There'll be a cannon to the left and cannon to the right
They'll go bang bang bang bang bang bang bang all night...
Baby baby, I love the way you talk sense to me
especially when you say 'Neil, you got love'
I hear what you're saying
I have in my hand a piece of paper that says
'Let's make lurve, not this phoney war-thang'
We goin' over the top
But you're so sexy when you're angry, honey-chile
Roamin' around in no man's land
gettin' caught in your barbed wire
Baby baby, gonna set your village on fire
CHARGE, I'm gonna hit you where it hurts
CHARGE, so sound the red alert!
There'll be a cannon to the left...
...and cannon to the right
(The hills are alive with the sound of)
BANG (lots of), All night!
Pale, pubescent beasts roam through the streets and coffee-shops
Their prey gather in herds of stiff knee-length skirts
and white ankle-socks
But while they search for a mate my type hibernate in bedrooms above
Composing their songs of love
Young, uniform minds in uniform lines
and uniform ties
Run round with trousers on fire and signs of desire
they cannot disguise
While I try to find words as light as the birds
that circle above
To put in my songs of love
Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
So sing while you have time
Let the sun shine down from above
And fill you with songs of love
Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
So let's sing while we still can
While the sun hangs high up above
Wonderful songs of love
Beautiful songs of love
I met a girl, she was a frog princess
I guess I ought to make it clear
That I saw nothing through her see-through dress
until she whispered in my ear
You don't really love me and I don't really mind
'cause I don't love anybody, that stuff is just a waste of time
Your place or mine?
I met a girl, she was a complete mess
I should've left her well alone, but oh no, not me
I had to see if underneath that dress
her heart was really made of stone
I met a girl, she was a frog princess
and yes I do regret it now
But how was I to know that just one kiss
could turn my frog into a cow?
And now I'm rid of her I must confess
to thinking 'bout what might have been
And I can visualize my frog princess
beneath a shining guillotine
You don't really love me and baby that it alright
'cause I don't love anybody,
I come and go through people's love lives
Your place or mine?
When she was just a girl she became a woman of the world
Soon there wasn't room enough for her
in between the bosoms of her family
She popped the cork, got on the Greyhound to New-York
Small-talked her way round just the sort
of playboys' playground she'd once dreamed about
Maybe I love her, but I'm jealous of her
She's a woman of the world
She's a fake sure but she's a real fake
On the make making up for lost time
Just you wait hey, give the girl a break
And a fifty dollar bill will see to that
That ain't enough to feed the cat
Serve up the rats and super rats
Well they just get fatter while she fades away
Maybe I love her 'cause I'm jealous of her
She's a woman of the world
Maybe I hate her 'cause I didn't create her
It's human nature girl
Maybe I'll suffer just to be her lover
just to be part of her world
Maybe I need her, because I want to be her
baby can I be your girl?
Maybe I'll kill her, just trying to thrill her
if she don't kill me first
We're making eye-contact
Oh those hypnotic eyes attract such philanthropic flies
That's that, you cannot stop it so why the devil do you try?
Through A Long And Sleepless Night
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Through a long and sleepless night
I thought upon the jury's plight
If what is wrong can feel so right
then life's no longer black and white
It's four o'clock and all's not well
in my private circle of hell
I contemplate my navel hair
and slowly slide into despair
This rut has fast become a trench
This smell has turned into the stench
of rotten dreams and stale ideals
The past is snapping at my heels
Oh Danny Boy the pipes are blocked
with bedtime blues and future shock
I know the best is yet to come
but does it always take this long?
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes
But I'll always be the bridegroom and never the bride
You deserve to be horse-whipped
But I've no horse, that joke's so shit
And whips would only make it worse
Don't tempt the lonely and perverse
The casualties of casual sex
The child of three with X-ray specs
The conman low in self esteem
The Casanova in your dreams
I'll scream and scream and scream until
I've made myself critically ill
in hospital, in case you're there
in uniform, intensive care
I know you'll be the death of me
but what a cool death that would be
I'd rather die than be deprived
of Wonderbras and thunder thighs
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes
But I'll always be the bridegroom and never the bride
Bored of normality? why not go daft?
It's easy to do if you try
Slide right back down that self-confident path
you've just so laboriously climbed
Pickle your liver and addle your brain
Live the Bohemian life
Die young and penniless somewhere in Spain
Then again you could try just to live your own life
In the way that you find most amusing
I DON'T REALLY CARE!
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes
But I will always be the bridegroom and I will never be the bride
Never be the bride
The Divine Comedy's Casanova
a collection of songs for bass baritone and ensemble,
inspired by the writings of the eighteenth century Venetian gambler,
eroticist and spy;
and performed for us there by the composer, Neil Hannon.
He was accompanied in that 1995
recording by a specially assembled group of young musicians,
under the baton of Dr. Joby Talbot.
The program was devised by The Divine Comedy,
and was produced in our London studios by Darren Allison.
Now, as we're running a little ahead of schedule,
there's just time for one extra item.
So I'll leave you with the haunting strains of Theme From Casanova...
Sing a happy song 'cause Spring does not last long
A flower blooms and then it's gone
Summer follows fast, make hay while it lasts
Don't ever dwell upon the past
For one day you are here, and the next you are gone
Every horse has its year and every dog its day, my son
So the only thing to feel sad about is
all the dogs and the horses you'll have to outlive
They'll be with you when you say good-bye
Then the fall from grace
The lines upon your face grow deeper almost every day
Days and weeks roll by and Winter nights draw nigh
and everything that lives must die
But as the curtains close and the last prayers are said
all my dogs and my horses appear round my bed
They have come to say one last goodbye
Goodbye..
