my anxieties Tore out my insides And it took a while to find That I don't really mind Life on the outside So take up your aim and raise your rifles
I see the rifles coming over the hill And if you shout maybe they stop and won't kill But if you think like me You'll be as dead as he I see the lion
Hurrah there's a price to pay to the Eton Rifles, Hello-Hurrah I'd prefer the plague to the Eton Rifles. Hello-Hurrah there's a price to pay to the Eton Rifles
the Eton Rifles, Hello-Hurrah I'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles. Hello-Hurrah there's a price to payto the Eton Rifles, Hello-Hurrah I'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles
price to payto the Eton Rifles, Hello-HurrahI'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles Hello-Hurrahthere's a price to payto the Eton Rifles, Hello-HurrahI'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles
price to payto the Eton Rifles, Hello-HurrahI'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles. Hello-Hurrahthere's a price to payto the Eton Rifles, Hello-HurrahI'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles
(Instrumental)
telegram, i've got your souvenirs 1914 - 1918 i've got your photograph, i've got your poetry Young men, as us - Artists' Rifles Young men, as us - Artists' Rifles
My password is a dead aunt's name A monument, a testament My password is a dead aunt's name A cenotaph, a shallow grave I'm thirty one and fading fast
On the forecourts of French libraries from Reignac to Marseilles the rain rattles small cars, clouds drape over backseats I am a photograph in your satchel
I have thought about you in your Summer abode In your lunatic smock, in chronicle mode The typewriter smack as you nail in the words and the turntable
We sail on the bad tide We sail on the bad sea From your heart to my heart with sails cut from mercy From your heart to my heart From Summer to Spring
You and John are birds You and John are ghosts You and John are genies, guarding my coast And in my address book, you're depicted as birds Drawn in,
