Showing posts with label madness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label madness. Show all posts

Thursday, November 22, 2018

A very very very fine house




Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired, she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep (ah)

Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, it has a crowd






There's always something happening
And it's usually quite loud
Our mum she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down and a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
 (something tells you that you've got to move away from it)





Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss (ah)
She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways






Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time
Such a happy time

And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us
Two dreamers






Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired, she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street, our house





I'll light the fire

You place the flowers in the vase
That you bought today


Staring at the fire
For hours and hours
While I listen to you
Play your love songs
All night long for me
Only for me





Come to me now
And rest your head for just five minutes
Everything is good
Such a cosy room
The windows are illuminated
By the evening sunshine through them
Fiery gems for you
Only for you





Our house is a very, very, very fine house
With two cats in the yard
Life used to be so hard
Now everything is easy
'Cause of you
And our la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la...





Our house is a very, very, very fine house
With two cats in the yard
Life used to be so hard
Now everything is easy
'Cause of you

I'll light the fire
While you place the flowers in the vase
That you bought today


Friday, November 14, 2014

Mad about the boy




I met him at a party just a couple of years ago,
He was rather over-hearty and ridiculous
But as I'd seen him on the screen he cast a certain spell.
I'd basked in his attraction
For a couple of hours or so.





His manners were a fraction too meticulous,
If he was real or not, I couldn't tell,
But like a silly fool I fell





Mad about the boy,
I know it's stupid
To be mad about the boy.
I'm so ashamed of it
But must admit
The sleepless nights
I've had about the boy.




On the silver screen
He melts my foolish heart
In every single scene.
Although I'm well aware
That here and there
Are traces of the cad about the boy.




Lord knows I'm not a fool girl,
I really shouldn't care.
Lord knows  I'm not a schoolgirl
In the flurry of her first affair.




Will it ever cloy
This odd diversity of misery and joy
I'm feeling quite insane
And young again
And all because
I'm mad about the boy.




It seems a little silly
For a girl of my age and weight
To walk down Piccadilly in a haze of light.
It ought to take her a good deal more
To take a bad girl down.




I should've been exempt for my particular kind of fate
As taught me such contempt for every phase of love
And now I've been and spent my love torn crown
To weep about a painted clown.




Mad about the boy,
It's pretty funny
But I'm mad about the boy.
He has a gay appeal that makes me feel
There's maybe something sad about the boy.




Walking down the street
His eyes look out at me from people that I meet.
I can't believe it's true,
But when I'm blue, in some strange way
I'm glad about the boy.




I'm hardly sentimental,
Love isn't so sublime.
I have to pay my rental  and I can't afford to waste much time.
If I could employ a little magic
That would finally destroy
This dream that pains me and it shames me




But I can't because I'm mad about the boy.