Give me Love, give me Can, give me Meatloaf Give me Rush, give me Marquee Moon Michael Ball, or The Fall I could listen to them all In the twilight or the afternoon Irk the purists Irk the purists Irk...
Oh say I’m not the only one to fill with trepidation Walking across the forecourt of the fire station My wariness consumes me, yet still protects me from The dimmer switch, and the membership of...
They come from underneath the stairs Into my room but no-one cares They’re on the bus and on the train They’re knocking on my window pane Oh Mother telephone the nurse Can’t you see it’s getting...