"7 Year Itch"

  • Seven Sisters (P.Pyle)
  • Seven-Year Itch (P.Pyle)
  • I'm Really Okay (J.Cahen/P.Pyle)
  • Long On (P.Pyle)

    Words and Music
    by Pip Pyle

    Most of the true things I'm about to tell are lies
    I won't bother bending ears when I don't believe my eyes
    A drunkard that's sleeping in Central Park
    A lion hunter stumbling round in the dark
    A dentist and a British queen
    And they all fit together in the same machine

    Nice, nice, very nice, it's so very nice
    So many people in the same device

    If you're looking for reason
    That really seems absurd
    When there's no meaning in meaningless words
    And the truth, so it seems
    Is just confusion, bad dreams
    Inflicting punishment without the crime
    Never mind
    For would you prefer it if I lie high in the sky ?
    Almighty nothingness, amen, goodbye

    Encountering nothing inside of me
    Outside nothing too
    Communicates nothing
    At least the bits missed that I misunderstood
    Encounering nothing that's for no-one needing
    Nihilistic nonsense next to nowhere
    Nullifying nameless numbskull nursey nursey
    Never no way now
    A grief without a bang
    A void, dark and drear
    No need to understand
    Let them live in fear
    For years and years

    Give him the heave-ho
    Deflate his ego
    When all's said and done
    Just as if nothing was ever begun
    And you look deep inside
    You just get more mystified
    So please don't stay there for all of your life
    All your life
    For would you prefer it if I lie high in the sky ?
    Almighty nothingness, amen, goodbye

    Words and Music
    by Pip Pyle

    If ever you ask if I miss English politics or weather
    Well, never...
    Nor closing time, rising crime, post-thatcherite England
    'The Sun', 'The Star', nine-to-five wine bars
    'God save the Queen', TV, VAT
    I can live without all that...

    Mais ici, c'est bien d'être dans tes bras chaque nuit
    J'ai envie que ça reste encore comme ça - pas comme ci
    C'est vrai, il y a des fois où je pense que j'en ai marre
    T'inquiète pas, avec toi, je suis plus sûr de moi
    La vie est longue, c'est pas grave, on peut la voir ensemble
    Tous les trois, je crois qu'on peut le faire, yeah
    Oh, but I miss the cricket
    And the BBC Radio 3 World Service commentary team

    Much more than this, of course I miss you all kids
    And that's why I built up this unbearable guilt
    That weighs on us, but it's time you thought
    None of this is your fault
    Please accept it
    Don't let's let it hurt us anymore

    Words & Music by Pip Pyle

    Put my teeth in the dark
    The walls are closing in around me as I folk inward
    Let the hell in my head out to haunt me
    And curse one more time the day you found me

    Though my back's to the wall
    There's not much left back there to lean on
    The ghosts of the good times
    What's left of the milk I was weened on
    You just took it all
    And left me alone with my demons

    Words by Jacqueline Cahen, Music by Pip Pyle

    I'm really okay
    I drank some wine
    And sitting by the icy river
    Fairfield, Connecticut
    While others are fishing
    I'm extremely slowly bent forward
    And listening to a funny noise
    Like the drant of a rusty part
    It seems to come out of my stomach
    But it definitely is the encounter of two bones
    In a slightly wrong position
    Maybe inside the right knee

    It doesn't hurt me
    It's just that it's weird
    And perhaps I should go
    And visit the doctor
    Or drink some more wine
    To see if I'm really okay
    Really okay

    Words and Music
    by Pip Pyle

    Across a long bridge
    Where the strange flashing statues
    Loom out of the grey and misty sea
    Caught in a frenzy --------
    We ran like rabid rabbits
    Up a pyramidal rope
    That's no joke
    By a canal
    Where the crocodiles prowl
    Sipping café-cognac
    Underneath the trail
    In a shower
    The euro tower (?!?)
    I see a palace in a park
    Under the moon
    Where round and round
    I dance myself right through the ground

    Words and Music
    by Pip Pyle

    We don't know what's going on
    We're strong but wrong
    Our lives go on for so long
    With many fatal slips
    'twixt cup and lips
    From here in a tail spin
    It's hard enough to see
    And since it's clear as mud round here
    We try to break free
    By kicking shit and hope some sticks
    And either way, to see another day burst open
    And writhe and squirm, like cans of worms
    We gaze at what seems to be
    Infinite skies across an endless sea
    We put out distress calls
    We're scared we'll be left for with good'n'all
    Our heads in the sand
    Shipwrecked with idle hands