For Flotsam

Knees knocking and Blood flowing, so I want you to know... You say you are an old cassette that has gone and spilt its spool You're far more like a wet cardboard tube on this nightclub toilet floor As I describe my lonely, you listen very clear: The last set of goalposts taken down, summer of odd numbered year She says "if you're unhappy, then you gotta find the cure" Well I prescribe me one more beer, beyond that I am unsure May not be be all and end all, in my defence she is the hole I've thrown my goalkeeper forward, she's catenaccio Flotsam, Jetsam and Spindrift: all the girls I have loved Dumped to earth by a spendthrift, gilt angels from above And I saw God in the bathroom, I baptised him in sick Embraced him around his cistern "c'est la mort!, enough of this" Knees knocking and Blood flowing so I want you to know that I want to And later she said something that stuck hard in my mind: "we are their Capel Celyn, they gotta keep their slippers dry To empathise with Tory's to invite upon disease A safer bet's to pack your bags, go holiday in Eyam" I will take you where the sun shines, cast shadows on your face Crawl into their deepest recess, 'til I freeze or dehydrate We'll live and breathe it in real time, montage is for the dead And my heart's still doing Fosburys nowhere near finished yet