The Wild Streets of Langney - A song (Trad.)

And the wind blows hard and the wind blows cold, 
propelling me down the Old Bay Road. 
All the pubs are shut and the school's burned down, 
the traffic drifts East from the heart of Old Town.

the drunks line the streets with a pint in hand

Crumble stones shifting at the edge of the land

a bad song written in a flurry of hate

empty bottles scattered on the Admirals Estate

'cos... 

these are the wild streets of Langney

these are the wild streets of Langney

these are the wild streets of Langney

From over the seas I wander, Wild through these streets I roam;
Far from the mad hearts yonder, Far from my broken home;
I won't forget, my boys, And true I'll be
To the girl so kind that I left behind
in Sussex by the Sea.

'cos... 

these are the wild streets of Langney

these are the wild streets of Langney

these are the wild streets of Langney

The Language of Pop - #1

Scritti Politti - Lions after slumber

My diplomacy, my security, my hope and my ice-cream

My tomorrow and my temperature, my lips and my selfishness
My cigarette, my uncertainty, my penetration
My notebook and my limit, my importance and my glycerine
My customer, my function, my lawlessness, my charm
My hunger, my refusal, my tissue and my vodka
My ommission, my ability, my telephone and my holler
My relaxing, my distress, my bedroom, my cassette
My dictation and my pulse, my fortune and my death
My flake and my restlessness, my headache and my dirt
My paper and my charity, my rose and my pallor
My guess and my closet, my light 'n my time
My worry, my perversity, my transgression
My temptation and my polythene, my gunshot [click]
My jealousy and my water
My demands 'n my angels 'n my waiting 'n my distance
My death, my curtness, my insulin, my memory
My partner 'n my sadness, my story, my wantoness
My wish, my despair, my erasure, my plantation
My white chocolate, my thoughtlessness, my gracelessness
My courage and my crying, my pockets 'n my mistakes
My body and my sex, my gaze and my helplessness
My letter, my sugar, my homework, my walk
My records, my smile and my struggle
My reflection, my eyelid, my fragility, my discretion
My hair, my austerity, my tattoo, my demise
My fooling and my terror, my problem and my judgement
Oh my disguise, my tongue
My ownership, my formula, my property, my thought, my razor
My blessing and my silence, my lust and my practice
My sincerity, my penicillin, my window and my androgyny
My mother, my recorder, my pity and my posing
My light, my carelessness, my drummer, my drummer, my drummer, my drummer
My tenderness 'n my car, my undoing and my history
My bottle and my drugs, my drugs, my drugs
Tomorrow, my temperature, my lips and my selfishness
My cigarette, my uncertainty, my penetration, my notebook

My limit, my importance, my glycerine, my customer, my function
My lawlessness, my charm and my hunger
My refusal, my tissue, my vodka, my admission

My ability and my telephone, my holler, my relaxing
My distress and my bedroom, my restlessness, my headache
My dirt, my paper, charity, my rose
My pallor, my guess and my closet, 
My light 'n my time, my worry, my perversity
My transgression honey, my temptation honey
My polythene, my jealousy
My water, my demands, my angels
My waiting, my distance, my death, my curtness, my insulin
My memory, my partner, my refrigerator
My sadness, my story, my wantoness, my skipping
My wish and my despair, my erasure, my plantation, my chocolate
My thoughtlessness, my gracelessness, my courage and my crying
My pockets, my homework
Like lions after slumber in unvanquishable number

Oh yeah

© Green Gartside

English Civil War

When Johnny comes marching home again
He's coming by bus or underground
A woman's eye will shed a tear
you see his face so beaten in fear
an' it was just around the corner in the english civil war

It was still at the stage of clubs and fists
When that well-known face got beaten to bits
Your face was blue in the light of the screen
As we watched the speech of an animal scream
The new party army was marching right over our heads

Alright

There you are, ha ha, I told you so
Says everybody that we know
But who hid a radio under the stairs
An' who got caught out on their unawares?
When that new party army came marching right up the stairs

When johnny comes marching home again
Nobody understands it can happen again
The sun is shining an' the kids are shouting loud
But you gotta know it's shining through a crack in the cloud
And the shadows keep falling when johnny comes marching home

Never buy The Sun

Someone's hiding in the bushes with a telephoto lens

While their editor assures them, the means justify the ends

Because we only hunt celebrities and it's all a bit of fun

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

And the parents of the missing girl cling desperately to hope

While a copper takes improper payments in a big brown envelope

And nobody in the newsroom asks where this information's from

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

Tabloids make their money betting bullshit baffles brains

And they cynically hold up their hands if anyone complains

And they say "Well, we're just giving the people what they 

Well they're crying out for justice, people crying out for justice 

And the man they call "The Digger" casts a proprietary

Over what goes on in the gutter and what happens in the Sky

And he claims he's fit and proper and the watchdog sings his

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

International executives they hang their heads in shame

Tell us with their hands on hearts that the paperboy's to blame

But everyone who loves that kiss'n'tell, you must share the

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

Tabloids make their money betting bullshit baffles brains

And they cynically hold up their hands if anyone complains

And they say "Well, we're just giving the people what they

Well they're crying out for justice, people crying out for justice

In the corridors of power they all sit down to sup

with the devil and his minions and they for his opinions

But the politicians wring their hands and say "What's to be

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

Well no-one comes out well when all is said and done

But the Scousers never buy the Sun

Poll Result - Best British Pop Lyricist

BEST BRITISH POP LYRICIST

 What? No Ray Davies? Are you sure?

Snow in Sun - Scritti Politti

Correspondence or coherence
I am calling, I am calling you.

I was getting me down, took a train into town
And the sun was shining brightly
Though the snow was falling lightly too.
Made me think of brave you are 
and how come I have strayed so far
and why everything came apart
in my head and heart now love
You will never be without me
You will never need to doubt me
There'll be something good about me soon
Like sun in the city snow
Like snow in the city sun

I was watching you sleep
I've been watching you dream
Should we be beset with trouble?
I would never let you come to harm

Looks like maybe we'll lose our home
Out of pocket and all alone
I should have worked and I should have known,
Seen the dark clouds coming in
But you will never be without me
I'm beside you never doubt me
There'll be something good about me soon
Like sun on the London snow
Like snow in the London sun

Undetermined, inessential
I am calling, I am calling you.
You...

Lyrics - Green Gartside