[A]

Spring light in a hazy May 

and a man with a gun at the door 

Someone's crawling on the roof above 

all the media here for the show 

I've been waiting for our friends to come 

Like spiders down ropes to free-fall 

A thirty round clip for a visiting card 

admit one to the embassy ball 

Caught in the crossfire on Princes Gate Avenue 

In go the windows and out go the lights 

Call me a doctor. Fetch me a policeman 

I'm down on the floor in one hell of a fight 



I'm just a soul with an innocent face 

a regular boy dressed in blue 

conducting myself in a proper way 

as befitting the job that I do 

They came down on me like a ton of bricks 

Swept off my feet, knocked about 

There's nothing for it but to sit and wait 

for the hard men to get me out 



Calm reason floats from the street below 

and the slow fuse burns through the night 

Everyone's tried to talk it through 

but they can't seem to get the deal right 

Somewhere there are Brownings in a two-hand hold 

cocked and locked, one up the spout 

There's nothing for it but to sit and wait 

for the hard men to get me out

Through clear skies tracking lightly from far down the line 

No fanfare, just a blip on the screen 

No quick conclusions now 

everything will be fine 

Short-circuit glitsch and not what it seems 

Fylingdale Flyer 

you're only half way there 

Green screen liar 

for a second or so we were running scared 

On late shift, feeling drowsy eyes glued to the display 

Dead cert alert, lit match to the straw 

One last quick game of bowls 

we can still win the day 

Fail-safe; forget the things that you saw 



They checked the systems through and they read A-o.k. 

Some tiny fuse has probably blown 

Sit back; relax and soon it will just go away 

Keep your hands off that red telephone

When I was a young man (as all good tales begin) 

I was taught to hold out my hand 

And for my pay I worked an honest day 

and took what pittance I could win 

Now I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe 

and I'm doing what I know 

for God and the Economy 

Big brother watches over me 

And the state protects and feeds me 

And my conscience never leaves me 

And I'm loyal to the unions 

who protect me at all levels 

And as I grew, the winds of fortune blew 

and the bank smiled down upon me 

And mortgaged to the hilt I threw 

the breeze of caution behind me 

Now I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe 

and I'm good at what I know 

And God and the Economy 

have blessed me with equality 

Now I'm equal to the best of you 

And better than the rest of you 

who would criticise my success 

in times of national unrest 



Now I own my horseless carriage 

in its central-heated garage 

And I commute eighty miles a day 

up at seven to make it pay 

I direct ten limited companies 

with seeming consummate expertise 

two ulcers and a heart disease 

a trembling feeling in both knees 

I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe

Tomorrow is the one day I would change for a Monday 

with freezing rains melting and no trains running 

and sad eyes passing in windows flimsy 

and my seat rocking from legs not quite matching 

Got passport, credit cards, a plane that I'm catching 

Black Sunday falls one day too soon 

The taxi that takes me will be moving too quickly 

My suitcases simply too full for the closing 

of pants, shirts and kisses all packed in a hurry 

Two best-selling paper backs chosen at random 

no sign of sales-persons to whom I might hand them 

Black Sunday falls one day too soon 



And down at the airport are probably waiting 

a few thousand passengers, overbooked seating 

Time long suspended in transit-lounge traumas 

connections broken and Special Branch waiting 

conspicuously standing in holiday clothing 

Black Sunday falls one day too soon 



Pick up my feet and kick off my lethargy 

Down to the gate with the old mood upon me 

Get out and chase the small immortality 

born in the minute of my next returning 

Impatient feet tapping and cigarette burning 

Homecoming one day too soon 



And back at the house there's a grey sky a-tumbling 

Milk bottles piling on door steps a-crumbling 

Curtains all drawn and cold water plumbing 

Notepaper scribbles I read unbelieving 

Saying how sorry, how sad was the leaving 

...one day too soon

They said protect and you'll survive 

(but our postman didn't call) 

8lbs. of over-pressure wave seemed to glue him to the wall 

They said protect and you'll survive 

E.M.P. took out the radio 

(and our milk-man didn't call) 

Flash blinded by the pretty lights, 

didn't see his bottles fall 

or feel the warm black rain arrive 



Big friendly cloud builds in the West 

(and our dust-men haven't called) 

They left the dual carriageway at a hundred miles an hour 

a tail wind chasing them away 



And in deep shelters lurk below, sub-regional control 

who sympathise but cannot help 

to mend your body or your soul 

Self-appointed guadians of the race with egg upon their face 

When steady sirens sing all-clear they pop up, 

find nobody here 



And so I watch two new suns spin 

(our paper man doesn't call) 

Burnt shadow printed on the road 

now there's nothing there at all 

They said protect and you'll survive

Six o'clock in the morning 

Wake up by the bed 

There sits a Japanese toy 

And I like it 

See the name on the wrapping 

Can't read yet but I know 

it's made for me (lucky boy) 

And I want it 

Lights that flash, wheels that go round 

Digital display 

Fresh silicon chips to enjoy 

And I need them 

(Where's the batteries?) 

Sitting silent and empty 

Wish I could breathe life 

in my new friend who's terribly still 

And I like him 

Just like me. P'rhaps he's hungry. 

Six volts make him smile 

And twelve volts would probably kill 

How I like him 

Daddy, where's the batteries 

I can't find my batteries 

(There's no batteries) 

Seven o'clock in the morning 

They find me by the bed 

with my friend the Japanese toy 

I am with him 

Mummy, Daddy 

can't see you, 

hear you. Batteries not 

included in this little boy 

(Where's my batteries?)

See black, see yellow with little notebooks drawn 

See grey stripes bowling down the street 

Silver streaks and T-shirts so precisely torn 

Strange foreign chaps in white bed-sheets 

Uniforms 

See golden halo'd men of high renown 

prance to the politicians' beat 

Well tailored in unswerving elegance 

with shoes by Gucci on their feet 

Uniforms 



How do you know who the hell you are? 

Wake up each day under a different star 

Dressed to the nines, meet yourself going home 

like a clone, smartly dressed in your pressed uniform 



White battle dress on green pitch, proud eleven 

Beneath the swelling box so neat 

the teeming millions of the future fly 

the spinning cricket ball to cheat 

They're all uniform

Met a man just the other day 

said his name was Jim. Boy, won't you take a look! 

Got a car for you 

it's a real steal 

Cleaned it right down 

new brakes, clutch and here's the hook 

Yes, it's a 4.W.D. (low ratio) 

Cash to Jim. I took it home 

through the deep mud. Plugged happy as a boy in sand 

Fitted wide tyres, spotlight, a winch as well 

and some brush bars up front to complete the plan 

Now it's really a 4.W.D. (low ratio) 



Take you down to the edge of town 

Where the road stops, we start to hold the ground 

Well, I'm blessed! Got traction in a special way 

Hold the roll bar, slide back, feel me pull it round 

Let me show you my 4.W.D. (low ratio)

We saw the heavens break and all the world go down to sleep 

and rocks on mossy banks drip acid rain from craggy steeps 

Saw fiery angels kiss the dawn 

Wish you goodbye till further on 

Will you still be there further on? 

And troubled dynasties, like legions lost, have blown away 

Hounds hard upon their heels call to their quarry 

wait and play 

Before the last faint light has gone 

Wish you goodbye till further on 

Will you still be there further on? 



The angry waves grow high 

cut icy teeth on northern shores 

Brave fires that flicker, cough 

give way to winds 

through broken doors 

And with the last line almost drawn 

wish you goodbye till further on 

Will you still be there further on?