George Pringle We Could Have Been Heroes
Today the world is waking up. (repeated)
You said it felt like California walking down the
streets and your garden felt like France when I lay in
the cut grass. The garden that two months ago was white
and shivering under snow. I stare up at your face from
behind sunglasses. Upside down your smiles pull frowns.
Last night was one of the last suburban parties. The
great suburban parties. Where we all spill out like
cards from sleeves and loiter the drive and piss on the
street. No magic here, though Spring burns in, no magic
here. Though Spring burns in.
Hootie was hung in the tree and hooting like an owl, a
drunken image sketched in leaves. He was wearing girls
clothes and the same old faces, turning pale are
haunting the garden and haunting my mind, a premonition
for some other time. This is last time i remember
thinking.
Bands edged into corners near conservatories and
sweating walls, broken doors, smashed glasses and legs
lined up on sofas. Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl,
boy, girl. This is the last time, I remembered
thinking. That fabulous neglect for glasses, no cup, no
mug, no jug tooth rot all sucked from bottles and hoods
indoors pulled up. We'll be investing in property and
drinking properly, this is all…this is all…a mental
bank.
My mental bank is overdrawn.
Well, let's think about May Day, a year ago. Last May,
when walking up through South Park, the funfair was
waking up. MY bloody valentine, my bloody valentine. My
bloody valentine, my bloody valentine. He's no-one. He
isn't yours or mine. My bloody valentine, my bloody
valentine. My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.
He's no-one. He isn't yours or mine. My bloody
valentine, my bloody valentine.
sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind. My
bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.
You don't have to work at HMV when you write so
beautifully. x3
sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind.
My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.
Sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind.
My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.
You don't have to work in H.M.V.
