tell him you can’t tell him
he’s a fool to himself
what’s in it for me
you know the kind
always saying why
two weeks behind
he doesn’t try
bikes buses trucks and trains
gangways ladders and ramps
a seemingly endless chain
of pickpockets and tramps
he wears the look of false alarm
like an old school tie
someone ought to twist his arm
he doesn’t try
laugh it isn’t funny
no respect for pain
if you give him money
he slings it down the drain
you’re looking for mr right
his type need not apply
he won’t play the white man
he doesn’t try
the bronze adonis
she did not like the rib-cage
the coat hanger hips
the razor-sharp shoulder blades
give her jip
she’s reading edward de bono under the palms
he sprays odorono under the arms
i was to say the least alarmed
when the bronze adonis got her
i lay beneath the parasol
watched him with the chicks
horsing around with his aerosol
they whispered about his odd trick
send no cash fear no man
you can be a love leviathan
she’s a fan of the man with a tan from a can
the bronze adonis got her
they honeymoon on muscle beach
to cries of ‘beat it mac’
he plucks some puny pansy’s peach
well how do you like that
the bronze adonis got her
mr and mrs universe
the folks who live in the gym
each night she sleeps in a room marked her
he sleeps in a room marked him
muscle bound for stardom the apollo of your eye
can’t seem to get a hard on o christ i wonder why
the bronze adonis got her
there stands the body gorgeous
men worship girls admire
he bravely bears the scourges
and the squelch of squashed desire
what a physical jerk no time for sex
where’s me bleeding bullworker baby oil and leopard kecks
o yeah the bronze adonis got her
a mail-order male
let me show you how
fragile frankie frail
becomes agile al kapow
the he-man hero blond and tall the envy of his pals
he’s coming to burst your beach ball and wrestle with your gals
is this the viscose vaseline dream or a triumph of the will
when the bronze adonis gets her downtown palookaville
hubba hubba yum yum wow
what a hunk of beef
who made you the sacred cow
who hangs around his briefs
in the corner sauna with his mates
wanking away unwanted weight
that’s his idea of a heavy date
the bronze adonis got her
you never see a nipple in the daily express
i’ve seen the poison letters of the horrible hacks
about the yellow peril and the reds and the blacks
and the tuc and its treacherous acts
kremlin money-all right jack
i’ve seen how democracy is under duress
but i’ve never seen a nipple in the daily express
i’ve seen the suede jack boot the verbal cosh
whitehouse whitelaw whitewash
blood uptown where the vandals rule
classroom mafia scandal school
they accuse i confess
i’ve never seen a nipple in the daily express
agony columns scream in pain
love in vain domestic strain
divorce disease it eats away
the family structure day by day
in the grim pursuit of happiness
i’ve never seen a nipple in the daily express
this paper’s boring mindless mean
full of pornography the kind that’s clean
where william hickey meets michael caine
again and again and again and again
i’ve seen millionaires on the dhss
but i’ve never seen a nipple in the daily express
the isle of man
ex RSMs with purple necks
a nose for trouble and kinky sex
rejuvenate an old pudenda
with a bunch of sticks
and a young offender
where are the wierdoes, thugs and louts
down in the dungeons dishing it out
their politics would recommend a
bunch of sticks and a young offender
authority its use perverts
submission to it always hurts
the cops and the church and the house of keys
bring back the birch for bums like these
night people
quite a party
we have found
mantovani
flooding the lounge
polite people
crazy feet
night people
funky but neat
burt bacarach
a zillion strings
cool aromatic
luxury surroundings
i see no evil
cheat cheat
night people
funky but neat
mister cavendish
meets elizabeth
what happens is
none of my business
quite legal
short and sweet
night people
funky but neat
stereo headphones
whisper and shout
invisible saxophones
fade in and out
like treacle
tacky but sweet
night people
funky but neat
twilight restaurants
you get it on a plate
no matter what you want
but you’ve got to wait
don’t get the needle
watch what you speak
night people
funky but neat
i like the night life
give me danger
i had a nice wife
she was a stranger
one of the people
i never meet
night people
funky but neat
quite a party
we have found
mazeratis
afghan hounds
the right people
the wrong street
night people
funky but neat
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Copyright © April Music 1977, 1978, 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982, 1983
Illustrations © April Music 1982, 1983
John Cooper Clarke has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
First published in Great Britain in 1983 by
Arena, an imprint of the Hutchinson Publishing Group
Vintage
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099583769
Ten Years in an Open Necked Shirt Page 6
