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A Sorry Tale
The Bevis Frond
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A sorry tale was told last night
To revellers on clear white light
Whose first response was but to jeer
Which slowly changed to one of fear
They call themselves the new and vital church
With fashion tips they stole from Mum and Lurch
And all the time, despite what she says
We turn our stone superior gaze
On you
A merry wife was she at first
Till Father bought the family purse
And drove us all to see the sea
And brought us home in time for tea
And children leave when they can take no more
But she remains with him forevermore
And all the time, despite how it seems
We fill our stone superior dreams
With you
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