Here we go.....
Come help me with my bags
Their filled with broken hearts you bastard
And take the rubbish out
It stinks of plans that we've forgotten
I don't hear what you say
Now that you've gone away
Do you find pleasure in my pain
Cause I can't feel any thing no more
No more
Do you recall the time we ran
We pissed ourselves in laughter
The ladies on the bus all scowled
There faces pinched and old
They said it was ok
You loved me anyway
I know it happened but know it feels
Just like I was dreaming
You left me stuck out in the rain
In fact you locked the fucking door
fucking door
How is it that such good time turned
To turning under
Why do you want to go with him?
He's such a wanker
Lets start it all again
Make new of what has been
Why don't you look me in the eyes
When you see that I am dyeing
Do you find pleasure in my pain
Cause I can't feel any thing no more
No more
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Ian Dury meant a lot to me, I'd only experience him via the telly and on record/cd, Ode to Ian Dury sort of came out of nowhere, I think I wrote it in about a day, getting the sounds right and then writing the tune in about 30 minutes.
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