Selected Lyrics by Andy except where noted
The Next Thing by S. Griffiths RIP
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Don’t get too down, with all the shit around
It’s not you. Not even your town
Just don’t get too down
And there’s a silver lining to each relationship declining
Might take some years in the finding
Till then don’t get too down
There’s a purpose to each sale. Some guy’s in work in north Wales
Though politicians often fail
Don’t ever get too down
You think your life’s a mess. You’re inexplicably perplexed,
But a Picasso can make a lot of sense/cents
Don’t ever get too down
Now your life is standing to attention
Without divine intervention
Just believe you can make it on your own
There’s no celestial mobile phone
Go to a Lou Reed show. Pay homage to your anti-hero.
Average guys can make good you know,
So never get too down.
Seems just yesterday. Forever ago. I don’t know.
Since they said you were gone
I gave you a good lick. Makes you sick
A song is never good enough for anyone
I meant nothing to you. I know what I know
I make mistakes just like a professional
And I never got my gold card
Though thinking about you made me hard
And your preference for girls only added to your charm
And I never got my gold card
You weren’t universally loved, but you should have been
And I felt so betrayed when I heard you’d been laid without love
Well you succeeded where I failed. I don’t know how or why the end prevailed
And I’m sure I’m not the only one who misses you
And your preference for girls only added to your charm
And I never got my gold card
When you feel in yourself that there’s nowhere to turn
And you find that deep in your mind is a smouldering burn
Being fanned into flames that consume the remains of your pride
In yourself and in your life, that you’re trying hard to revive
Well now you know it’s getting hard to try
Well maybe we should say that it doesn’t pour but it rains
And not just on the plains of your deepest emotions; some joy with the pain
That has been in control of your life to this very day
So grasp the chance to rectify. Cry different tears from both your eyes.
With a new battle cry.
You have to try.
Lively girl, you make me act so responsibly
Lively girl, where the hell do you get all your energy?
When you call my telephone, just for a minute I’m not alone
Lively girl, your life’s a blur in a parallel world
Lively girl, if you took speed it would slow you down
You call me up when I’m all alone. You know babe, you give good phone
And on the first day that we met, I knew you and me would not be wed
But still I know I’ve got a friend
And on the first day that we met, I knew you and me would not be wed
But still I know I’ve got the coolest friend
On a day like today, when self respect has gone away, and gone to stay
With friends and relationships that have not hit you like a brick
To prove that you’re hip and not a long lost sailing ship
Life’s too long
And when you don’t want anything anyone can give
And you cannot find the way out to the genuine life
And you come down from the pinnacle of the spiritual ego trip
That you did not hit, and thanks to it...
Your life’s too long
Well she’s not too softly spoken and she’s not too argumentative
And any eggshells broken just cannot be attributed
To anyone for whom I’ve got such a lovely soft spot
On the left side of the mattress. Or maybe it’s the right one?
But does it really matter on such a perfect evening
If she should be arriving. Oh don’t think about departing
So get through the night
Get through the day
Get through your life
Morning light has broken through the daydreams of insomnia
And the radio has spoken
And you’ve smoked too many cigarettes
And you just can’t of where you left the time that you had put aside
To do some preparations for the trials and tribulations
That you want to keep waiting
Just until you find her..
But I thought you’d found her?
Or was that just a maybe?
Enjoy your night
Enjoy your day
Endure your life
Stacy makes me
Makes me go to bed at night
Makes me get up late
Messes with my head
And then she tells me that I’m great
Stacy makes me
Makes me buy her flowers
Makes me think I’m wrong
Wallow in the showers
And write some more dumb songs
Stacy makes me laugh my head off and sing myself to sleep
A typical Sunday (which should be a fun day) drags on
With no conversation and no stimulation, drags on
You break your guitar. Drag yourself to a bar on and on
And you fall into a deep reverie
About so many things that you should have done while you were free
So on with your work. Your clean pants and shirt, drag them on
But what do we find is lurking behind today’s door
Is it living or dead? Certainly not “right” in the head
But you be a tower of strength, that’s required of one
Whether you are sad or indifferent or glad or despairing or numb
You’re everyone’s friend but you’re nobody’s lover
They are wanting a saviour but you can’t deliver
It’s not in your contract to martyr yourself to the cause
A shoulder to cry on. One you can rely on
With no reciprocation. That’s true dedication
To whatever we’re doing that we must believe is good
Must be good. . ?
The Next Thing by S. Griffiths RIP
Please don’t let her be annoyed if she has to listen to my pleas
Nothing could be worse than these days that hang around
And each lesson she has learned to teach makes her seem so out of reach
I could never get that near to her anyway
She might be “the next thing”
I can’t do anything right
But if she would ring I might just
Do the next thing right
I could never hear enough about her anyway
You take my attention
I lose my direction
Why? Make the connection
Don’t take my affection for granted
Cheat! Anyone can be a cheat
I’m voting with my feet
I will follow her and meet her by accident
Tears! They could go on for years
My eyes are bigger than my ears
I could never get that near to her anyway
She might be “the next thing”
I can’t do anything right
But if she would ring I might just
Do the next thing right
I could never hear enough about her anyway
I never thought would feel this way, but now I do
And I don’t believe that you thougt you would feel this way too
But here we ae, we’re together. Me and you
And the weather has worn away the corners from your square peg
And I’m far from round too
I never thought I would feel this way, but now I do
And I don’t believe that you thought you would feel this way too
My DM’s and your satin ballrooms (so sore)
Well you can’t play and I can’t dance
But who could love us more?
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And I can’t see you in
My soul, what soul, whose soul, our souls
Do not exist except the fish that you see on
The automobiles of organised christianity
And the Pope can kiss Mohammad’s tarmac
On the road to a polytheistic acceptance speech
That will cure the worlds ills much better than the
British Medical Association Guide to Medicines and Drugs
That is there on my shelf from those days when
I researched the drugs pushers trade in relation to how
You and I felt about our existence or the lack of a high…
High…..
High….
It’s not very nice to meet you…. And…..
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There … lies… the… babe with her legs gently splayed in
The moonlight
Moonlight….
Raising a glass of sweet humanitarian aid for
The poor boy who chewed on a pipe… made of lead
Into temptation that her face smiled upon for a moment in
The brief history of times gone by
Times gone by…..
That sit-com has not stood the test of the years
Spent waiting for a defragmentation of your life
Your life…..
Read me as bedtime story from
Your library containing the Natural Death Handbbook
Natural Death Handbook
And you downloaded a nasty virus from Kazaa user God
Believed to be residing in the bible belt
That that sucker, you know that it’ll help you feel better
Do you feel better now that
Thank you America for all the things you’ve given to the world
Did the land of the free invent democracy?
Or was it Iceland in the 10th century
But thank you America for all the things you’ve given to the world
Hamburgers and endemic obesity
It’s from you we must fight to be free
Oh, say, I can see, by the dawn's early light,
the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in the air,
No refuge can save, the world’s being enslaved
By the land of the free and the home of the brave
So thank you America for the things you’ve given to the world
The WMD that Japan got for free
In the middle of the last century
Well thank you America for the things you’ve given to the world
Thank you for the Napalm, the tobacco and the crime
We’re so grateful that you kept the very reverend Jerry Vines
And this be their motto: "In God is our trust"
conquer they will, though their cause be not just
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er lands that were free and the homes of the brave!
Another Monday with sleep patterns haywire
Never knowing if you’re going or should you stay awhile
In the confines of your pristine seclusion
Maybe things will make an exit just the way you did
But I can’t fault you cuz, well, it’s all relative
It would be inhuman to make you this way live
I see your lifestyle and my waistline expanding
What the hell. I wish you well
Cuz I’m not in love
It’s all relative
There’s pharmaceuticals and talking and talking
That make you think you are feeling just the way you ought to feel
But I don’t blame you in your search for normality
Although it’s taking you further away from me
The time we spent was more a pristine delusion
Didn’t cross my mind that I was being used
All that sentiment; it just doesn’t suit me
I still love you
But, hey! I’m not in love
It’s all relative
Did it never occur to you that your prescription was life?
I love my life together and the way you haven’t changed in my eyes
I should never have looked into you ageing, childlike eyes
I beheld your death and my lies
And my lies
And I don’t want you to be sad
I love my life together and hate yours being apart
We have to do this thing for us
“God must hate our hearts”
You tell me selling mobile phones was always your idea
And that you’ve got a “life plan” to guide you through
And “I have no fear”
You love your career and you love your life
You want some kids and you want a wife
How do you know and why should I care
When I can’t even say “I know what I want”
Let’s journey back to High School days; your artistry and flair
Well an Andy Warhol toothpaste tube wasn’t an interesting idea
How many ideas can you say you’ve had?
The one about plagiarism wasn’t bad
But then, come to think of it, you nicked that one too!
So maybe I can make it cool to not
Know what I want
She’s in love with your penile-extension car
The way your credit’s good in tossers' bars
She may love you when you are getting old
If you’ve still got Euros to fold
Branson, Murdoch and Saddam Hussein
GW Bush and, hell, what’s your name?
Anything you could do.. somebody else could!
So do I really need to
Know what I want?
I don’t love you. I don’t care
I don’t think I need you
Why don’t you get out of my hair?
You are like a rolled-up cigarette babe you are always going out
Of my way to make no effort
To leave me in no doubt
You are really leaving me in no doubt
What do you think about the troubles in the east?
I can see your global conscience is a highly evolved beast
With whale blubber on the lips that kiss the arsehole of the Sun
Oh the Times it has changed! Bye bye baby. Don’t have fun
I don’t love you. I don’t care
I don’t think I need you
Why don’t you get out of my hair?
You are like a rolled-up cigarette babe. You are always going out
Of your way to make no effort
To leave me in no doubt
You are really leaving me in no doubt
Out of the ether, 80’s chic is her
Bag of delights is her drug
Of choice
Velvetine, valentine of youthful introspection
Becomes the beauty of the new century…
Italianate, perfection like a silken red wine
Intoxicates reality.. virtually (actually) virtually
Sweetly spoken words in typeface
WAP in your phone
Alone and prone to criticism never emanating from the velvet tone of…
Three score 10 and 9 years, just yesterday
With my dearest doll Mercedes and the kids have come to stay
We celebrate my working life, the health, the crime, the pay
The politics, the land dispute and clever things I say
But here comes the family meal, to thank our lord we pray
The ‘body of christ’ reminds me of the fact that…
I’m not a quail…
I may be a republican, I may seem rather small
Next time I’ll be behind a bush and you’ll hear my bird call
I’m not a quail…