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Hugh Cornwell




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Hugh Cornwell Album


Nosferatu (1979)
1979
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Peelers whistle in the distance
Stand no chance of catching on
Horses gallop never faster
Must get back before the dawn
Slips away into the distance
Cold grip on the carriage arm
Lifeless eyes with no reflection

. . .



See the actors leaving Stratford
Shakespeare holds no secret still
Watch the coin is tossed to the air
When it lands the winner's found
Declares and mocks the tail
Who can say what good becomes of

Losers in a lost land x4

Win or lose amongst the breathing trees
They will not follow they will not
Time enough to grow into some

Losers in a lost land x4

Tread into the misty grottoes
Finding creatures awesome yet
Winner loses freedom tide
Losers win losers win

Losers win the chance to drift amongst


. . .



The other night I chanced upon an irate caterpillar
He was irate he had a darting face
Crinkled with old forms
Appendage arms spread out fanlike glancing
His string noise boxes
The rest were a howling wolf
Afraid to be left upright against sleeping forte
Calling to the caterpillar
Throughout the time span
Wanting to be fed wanting attention
Wanting waiting full of tension
They don't crowd the spiderlike object
They didn't object at least not many
Just waiting for the next creak
From his aching limbs to reach their brains through
Cup-like objects stuck on the sides of their heads
No-one joked no-one spoke
They became embarrassed and planted contempt
Under their haunches
When the caterpillar rested
His appendages ummed
His appendages arred
But not connecting with
The string noise boxes
And...
They...all just gazed


. . .



Some say it was the style of the way he wore his clothes
Some say it was the action of a man who surely knows
But the bottom line is always on a path where no-one goes
So jump and shout yank it about

The feeling gets so strong the way you grab at me that way
The texture of the fabric rubs me raw with each day
Now they closed down all the exits
Makes me guess we gotta stay

. . .



Wired antisocial beast
Wired not put out in the least
Someone's got up my nose
Bothering me who knows
The whys and the wherefores
Speaking in semaphores
Wired everything moves in slow motion
Wired some sort of a computer
The tapes running backwards
Keep up your step on the moving pavement
So what are you on? x4
An escalator taking you underground
That's what it is it is

. . .



Black...Black track...Black track steel grey train
Along the big vein across the big leaf
Cold...cold steel larva...
It's edges warm edges its way across the big leaf
Air...Aircraft engines menace
The black track steel train
Says hello to many brothers
Digging holes to save the others
On the big red leaf Big bug!
On the big red leaf Big bug!
Big! Bug!
Black leather badge shouldered hoot tooting duty boys
In the right place at the right time
Saved the nibbler stayed in the line
Its bristles with arms and legs didn't sleep at night
Derailed all failed x2
And rattled the bug on it's vein x2
Around the world five times x5
A victim of crimes x4
And the white cabbages all took a dive
And the big red leaf was still alive
And after two years
The big bug curled
And rested after eating it's world
And out popped x7

. . .



She's built the wrong way round
Turns a yeah into a nay
Acts like a horse treat her worse
Until your voice goes hoarse
She'll turn your friends into sheriff
And what's more she's built the wrong way round
You never know which way she'll go
You reach high when she's way down below
Her feet smell her nose runs
She can sniff an Indian at fifty guns
She's so soft she makes it hard
And what's more she's built the wrong way round

Never wears a hat outside her face
Shields the sun from her gaze
Starts at the end in a maze - amazing!
She's built the wrong way round
Wakes you up puts you to sleep
Closes her eyes just to take a peep
Little Bo peep follows her sheep
Wears a big woolen jersey
Makes her flesh get up and creep
She's built the wrong way round

. . .



Puppets dancing on a shoestring
Saying yes when mother asks
If your shoelace is tied
Whose holding the strings?
Who dangles taut bow strings?
Resin redundant
They dance by themselves
They whine and soar and soar and seesaw
Mime and pretend to speak
On the seesaw back and forth back and forth
On the swing of words in print
Footprints in paper money
Telling you the route
But in the root of the matter
Greenie pays the bills
Greenie gets the pills
Puppets in the air in the air
Changing places playing aces puppets x5

. . .


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