Альбом The Divine Comedy

Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the op'ning day.

Rub-a-dub-dub
It's time for a scrub
So through clouds of steam
To a cracked and faded cream
Bath-tub wanders frail
Aphrodite, so pale
Pink and white
She is naked as sin
Wearing nothing but a grin
And a pin in her hair
Will she be drowned?
Found
With her hair tied behind
Shoulders back
And head inclined
To the sound of music
Playing above
Bathing her in love
But darkness and fear
Will disappear like the soap
When she opens her eyes.

She throws back her dormer windows
Morning light shows Ophelia raised
From her watery grave in a brave new world.

One butterfly
Spies a glint in his eye,
Birds sing as he cycles by.
Oh! Why should he feel sad?
This world's not so bad, and besides,
Woe betide he who would frown
When natural beauty abounds.
And now with wheels spinning free
He's picking up speed.

Two butterflies
Tie knots in his stomach,
They love it when he goes too fast.
Wind whistles past,
Whilst oceans of air
That will mess up his hair,
Though he no longer cares any more
For overindulgence and vanity,
Vacuous vice!
Just once or twice,
Thrice,
Four times in five we forget we're alive
And neglect to remind ourselves.

Three butterflies
Realise when it's time to depart,
They have tickled his ribs
They have fluttered his heart,
But the starting is easy compared to the stop
And the bottom is hard when compared to the top.

Oh la la la la la etc...

"This book deals with epiphenomenalism, which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence... makes no difference... whatever are you doing?"

Aphra Benn: Hello
Cervantes: Donkey
Daniel Defoe: To christen the day!
Samuel Richardson: Hello
Henry Fielding: Tittle-tattle Tittle-tattle...
Lawrence Sterne: Hello
Mary Wolstencraft: Vindicated!
Jane Austen: Here I am!
Sir Walter Scott: We're all doomed!
Leo Tolstoy: Yes!
Honore de Balzac: Oui...
Edgar Allen Poe: Aaaarrrggghhhh!
Charlotte Bronte: Hello...
Emily Bronte: Hello...
Anne Bronte: Hellooo..?
Nikolai Gogol: Vas chi
Gustav Flaubert: Oui
William Makepeace Thackeray: Call me 'William Makepeace Thackeray'
Nathaniel Hawthorne: The letter 'A'
Herman Melville: Ahoy there!
Charles Dickens: London is so beautiful this time of year...
Anthony Trollope: good-good-good-good evening!
Fyodor Dostoevsky: Here come the sleepers...
Mark Twain: I can't even spell 'Mississippi'!
George Eliot: George reads German
Emile Zola: J'accuse
Henry James: Howdy Miss Wharton!
Thomas Hardy: Ooo-arrr!
Joseph Conrad: I'm a bloody boring writer...
Katherine Mansfield: [cough cough]
Edith Wharton: Well hello, Mr James!
DH Lawrence: Never heard of it
EM Forster: Never heard of it!

Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today'

James Joyce: Hello there!
Virginia Woolf: I'm losing my mind!
Marcel Proust: Je me'en souviens plus
F Scott Fitzgerald: baa bababa baa
Ernest Hemingway: I forgot the....
Hermann Hesse: Oh es ist alle so hi¤iџlich
Evelyn Waugh: Whoooaarr!
William Faulkner: Tu connait William Faulkner?
AnaiЇs Nin: The strand of pearls
Ford Maddox Ford: Any colour, as long as it's black!
Jean-Paul Sartre: Let's go to the dome, Simone!
Simone de Beauvoir: C'est exact present
Albert Camus: The beach... the beach
Franz Kafka: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
Thomas Mann: Mam
Graham Greene: Call me 'pinky', lovely
Jack Kerouac: Me car's broken down...
William S Burroughs: Wowwww!

Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today'

Kingsley Amis: [cough]
Doris Lessing: I hate men!
Vladimir Nabokov: Hello, little girl...
William Golding: Achtung Busby!
JG Ballard: Instrument binnacle
Richard Brautigan: How are you doing?
Milan Kundera: I don't do interviews
Ivy Compton Burnett: Hello...
Paul Theroux: Have a nice day!
Giјnter Grass: I've found snails!
Gore Vidal: Oh, it makes me mad!
John Updike: Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run...
Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap!
Malcolm Bradbury: stroke John Steinbeck, stroke JD Salinger
Iain Banks: Too orangey for crows!
AS Byatt: Nine tenths of the law, you know...
Martin Amis: [burp]
Brett Easton Ellis: Aaaaarrrggghhh!
Umberto Eco: I don't understand this either...
Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Mi casa es su casa
Roddy Doyle: ha ha ha!
Salman Rushdie: Names will live forever...

"Who'll have a fishy
On a little dishy?
Who will have a fishy
When the boat comes..."
And then he says,
"With our glasses both raised in a toast
Let's sing for those in peril on the sea
Who cater ceaselessly
To thy every wish
With every fish,
As fresh as fish can be!
Y'see, I do like my oysters,
My king prawns and caviar -
No matter how far away they are,
I'll be there!"
And then she says,
"Now with our glasses both raised in this toast,
Let's sing for those in peril on the sea
Who labour tirelessly
In their tiny boats
Off John O' Groats,
Their socks soaked for me!
Y'see, I do like my lobster,
My hake, skate and rainbow trout -
And if there's a fishy smell about,
I'll be there!"
And then we'll sing for those in peril on the sea
Don't be frightened, don't be scared -
Chop off their heads and little legs,
Then peel away the shell
And open up your senses to the smell,
The sound and colour,
Touch and taste
Of crabs, cod, clams and kippers
Scampi, squid, sole, shark and scallop
Winkles, whelks, whale and whiting
Seaweed, swordfish, sardines and sea urchin
Haddock, halibut, herrings and eel
Cockles, mussels, mackerel, geel
Pilchard, plankton, St Peter's fish and plaice
Octopussy jellyfishy
And dolphin's an aquired taste...
"Who'll have a fishy
On a little dishy?
I will have a fishy
When the boat comes in..."

While they have been eating
The rain has started falling,
Gradually gathering in strength;
What began a drizzle
Has now become torrential,
And doesn't look like coming to an end.

The two bedraggled figures
That huddle in the doorway,
With nothing vaguely waterproof to wear,
Are now secretly wishing
They'd listened to their mothers
When being told to always be prepared.

Screaming
'Geronimo!',
They run for it down the road;
With an arm around her waist
He leads her to a place
He knows.

Soaked through, but happy,
They squelch up to the landing;
The room before them
Makes a welcome sight.
The coal fire is throwing
Strange shapes upon the hearthrug,
And crying out to be knelt down beside.

She pulls off her jumper
And flings it in the corner;
He picks it up and hangs it on a chair.
She puts on a record
And sings into her coffee;
He puts a blanket round her,
Sits her down
And dries her beautiful hair.

"Birds and planes go
Through the rainbow
Every day though
You simply refuse
Old-fashioned Ferris Wheels
Are no big deal
They're just big wheels with chairs
So don't be scared
Just set yourself free"

She tells me it's alright
To open up my eyes
She holds onto my hand
And the clouds float by
The couple in the car below
They wave to us and say hello
I think they understand
The way we're feeling

I don't need to say 'I love you'
When we're floating
So far up above
Everyone else's lives
Are intertwined
With yours and mine
I hope
They find the joy
That we have found

She tells me it's alright
To open up my eyes
She holds onto my hand
And the clouds race by
The couple in the car above
I suppose they think
That we're in love
I think they might be right

And without warning when we're almost at the top
The wheel that turns us all comes to a sudden stop.
The wind that's blown us dies a quick and painless death
The air gets clammy and we hold each other's breath
We get the feeling that we're not alone in this
And then a God who really ought not to exist
Sticks out a great big hand
And grabs me by the wrist
And asks me "why?" and I say
"Well God, it's like this
It may be arrogance
Or just appalling taste
But I'd rather use my pain than let it all go to waste
On some old god who tells me what I want to hear
As if I cannot tell obedience from fear
I want to take my pleasures where and how I will,
Be they disgraceful or distasteful or distilled
And to be frank I find that life has more appeal
Without a driver who's asleep behind the wheel"

Then God decides that he has taken quite enough
Of all this atheistic tosh I'm spouting off
And so he calls upon his favourite angel choir
To sing of times when men were filled with christian fire
But over-zealous angels flap their wings too fast
And cause the wind to blow and turn the wheel at last
And soon my feet are safely back on solid ground
And then I hear a voice say
"Don't look down!".

Twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue
We've got an hour or two
Before it's time to go
Let's go see a movie show

Jeanne can't choose
Between the two
'Cos Jules is hip
And Jim is cool
And so they live together
With the trees and birds
And little girls
Who play upon
Poor Jean-Claude's nerves
Till finally
He strokes Claire's knee
And when she asks
Of his ambition
Jean-Pierre replies
"My mission
Is to become eternal
And to die..."
Heaven knows the reason why...

When the lights go out
All over Europe
I forget about old Hollywood,
'Cos Doris Day could never
Make me cheer up
Quite the way those French girls always could
Jean Seberg: Et puisque je suis mechante avec toi c'est la preuve que je ne suis pas amoureuse de toi
Jean Paul Belmondo: On dit qu'il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Jean Seberg: Si je t'aimais... oh c'est trop complice
Jean Paul Belmondo: Au contraire, il n'y a pas d'amour malheureux
Jean Seberg: Je veux que les gens s'occupant pas de moi et puis je suis independente... Peut etre que tu m'aimes?
Jean Paul Belmondo: C'est ce que lu crois, mais tu ne l'ai pas
Jean Seberg: C'est pour ca que je t'ai denonce
Jean Paul Belmondo: Je te suis superieur
Jean Seberg: Maintenant tu es force de partir
Jean Paul Belmondo: Tu es single, c'est lamentable comme raisonnment...
When the lights go out
All over Europe
I forget about old MGM
'Cos Paramount
Was never Universal
And Warners went out
Way back when
Those lights go out
All over Europe
I forget about old Hollywood,
'Cos Doris Day could never
Make me cheer up
Quite the way those French girls
Always could.

Do you remember, the way it used to be?
June to September,
In a cottage by the sea.
Distant cousins, local kids
We climbed every tree together,
And it never, ever rained
'Til we climbed back on the train
That would take us so far away
From the village and the rain,
And the summerhouse
Where we found new games to play.
Do you remember Sunday lunch on the lawn?
Daring escapes at midnight,
And costumeless bathes at dawn.
You were only nine years old,
And I was barely ten
It's kind of weird to be back here again...
Do you remember
The summerhouse?

When the last course has been consumed
They withdraw to the drawing room
Where the Schubert she plays with style
Keeps her friends happy for the while
But the memories are a burden,
So she draws back both the curtains
Stepping out into the night

As the glow from the house recedes
And their voices blend with the breeze
She is free to be who she will
Free to skip barefoot down the hill
Maybe she is Neptune's daughter
For she's drawn towards the water
Stepping out into the night

The water cold against her skin
Conceals a multitude of sins
And laughing like a little girl
She enters an enchanted world
Where seaweed girls with silver tails
Play games upon the backs of whales
They want her to come home with them
They grab her legs and drag her
Down again, down again
Into the sea he strides
And takes her in his arms
And he carries her back to shore

Back at the house
A bottle is found
And opened in honour of those who have drowned,
While we who have not are stricken with guilt
And dutifully see that not one drop is spilt;
We're drinking to life,
We're drinking to death -
We're drinking 'til none of our livers are left!
We're wending our way down to the spirit store,
We'll drink 'til we just can't drink anymore!
Raise your glasses high,
Drink the cellar dry!
Well, bloody my nose
And blacken my eye!
If it ain't some young Turk in search of a fight -
And Chanticleer's chest is sagging with pride,
For honour has yet to be satisfied.
Well, heaven be thanked
We live in an age
When no man need bother
(Except on the stage)
With 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori' -
And definitely not tonight!
I can still remember
When I was just a kid -
I was free to do what I wanted to,
But I never, ever did...
So now with years of discretion reached,
May we not forget
Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite
For there's life in the old world yet!
There'll always be an England (oh yes there will),
An Ireland and a France (indubitably),
A Liechtenstein and Finland (absolutely right, completely undeniable),
And we have only one chance...
Earnest young man with an unhealthy tan
Puts a drink in my hand and says:
"I understand
You're in search of the place
To continue the chase
Of the heavenly taste?
I suggest in that case
You all come with me
To my place by the sea
Where the glasses shall be overflowing with free
Alcoholic delights -
And free love if you like -
For what point has this life
If you can't realise you're dreams?!"
Oh, raise your glasses high,
And drink the town dry!
We'll drink beyond the boundaries of sense!
We'll drink 'til we start to see lovely pink elephants
Inside our heads, inside our beds -
Inside the threads of our pyjama legs -
So don't shoot til you see the reds of our eyes
And an army of elephants marching behind!
From the day I was born 'til the night I will die
All my lovers will be pink and elephantine!

Ten
Apes turn into men
and grapes turn into wine
How we made it to nine
I'll never know

Eight
Man looks for a mate
but fate plays cruel tricks
And seven turns to six
still he's alone

Along comes number five
Eureka I'm alive
I think therefore I am
a lucky man

Three
From this balcony
the two of us can see
The place where we first met
one wet sunday

Tonight we fly
Over the houses, the streets and the trees -
Over the dogs down below;
They'll bark at our shadows
As we float by on the breeze.
Tonight we fly
Over the chimney tops, skylights and slates -
Looking into all your lives
And wondering why
Happiness is so hard to find.
Over the doctor, over the soldier,
Over the farmer, over the poacher,
Over the preacher, over the gambler,
Over the teacher, over the writer,
Over the lawyer, over the dancer,
Over the voyeur,
Over the builder and the destroyer,
Over the hills and far away!
Tonight we fly
Over the mountains, the beach and the sea
Over the friends that we've known,
And those that we now know
And those whom we've yet to meet.
And when we die
Oh, will we be that disappointed or sad?
If heaven doesn't exist,
What will we have missed?
This life is the best we've ever had!

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