Songdog The Devil Needs You For His Squeeze
happened right here, here in this room, she wrapped her
legs around me. On a rusty nail-bed with a wreath
on the wall, that’s exactly how the lynch-mob found me.
And they bore me shoulder-high, embalmed in J & D,
past the railway arches and the gypsy-camp to the old
slate quarry….And a sickly-looking boy in a Marcel wave
was
squinting to read out the sentence. There was an angel
in an armband and a pig tied to a tree and a whole lot
of talk
of repentance. I heard an unlatched gate banging in the
breeze, then somebody kicked the stool away and they’re
hanging off my knees….
I’m in an unmarked grave up by the Cock o’ The North,
and I’m kind of enjoying the silence. But the Devil
prods me
with his toasting-fork, says “Hey, remember the terms
of our alliance?”. And it’s 4am and raining and I’m
hunting for
my good luck charms and there’s a leathery pair of
pterodactyl’s wings sprouting from my arms ….
And you’re tossing and turning in your negligée, I
guess you’re having a nightmare. I’ve got no head for
heights
but my arse is on the line, so when you wake up at last
I’m sitting right there. And I sweep you off like
Superman
would sweep off Lois Lane. And I’m sorry but Satan
needs you for his squeeze if I’m to walk the earth
again ….
The Devil’s in his workshop in a pinstripe suit, a wig
and some rimless glasses. There’s a posse of women with
a wiggle in their walk and he’s applying his brand to
their arses. And Satan hums a bittersweet song as you
and
I say our goodbyes, and I wake up naked in a lock-up
garage with a bellyful of butterflies ….
I got a big old house with stuffed birds on the walls
and real live wolves in the garden. And not a day goes
by when
I don’t think of you and if I let you down I beg your
pardon. I got your photo on the mantelpiece among
childhood
heroes of mine. And me and my ventriloquist’s dummy, oh
we talk about you all the time ….