A Glorious Day
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I'll ring Henry immediately
The day you are dispatched
And we'll get slaughtered
Pints lined up waiting
And wine and spliffs
On the level
And Henry will be giggling
At how there is no need
To drop glue
On your cabbages
Up in the smog of North London
And you have plenty of time
To tend to your repart
Alone and hopefully weeping
When she wakes up with someone
Because of some yearning
She explains
As a tsunami
Hamling in her heart
And forget about her bones
And the shape of her hips
As myself and Henry chuckle
And raise our glasses high
Poor Arthur
Poor Arthur
Poor Arthur
We'll keep repeating it
Wishing we could see you
Sitting with your mineral water
With your head in your hands
Such a pathetic sight we reckon
Sitting in your ramshackle shed
With only the wind to remind you
Of a beautiful smell and grace
As some other punter with no face
Is the one who tortures you
Everywhere you go
Even on buses
Even in other cities
Forever
Forever
Forever
Forever
Forever
Forever