Prier pour moi Oui Je suis amoureux La fille aux yeux noirs Français Non Italienne Non Espagnole Non Nègre Non Regardez-moi Je déteste l’amour

Yes I’m in love The girl with black eyes French No Italian No Spanish No Negro No Look at me I hate love

Oui Je suis amoureux La fille aux yeux noirs Français Non Italienne Non Espagnole Non Nègre Non Regardez-moi Je déteste l’amour

You are the final rose of the summer The luxury of your colour has not yet faded You drift silently in the late tropical breezes And glow beneath the clear autumn moons

How are you Joe I am feeling like shit Why I had the fucking flu jab You were singing about Berlin I often sing about Berlin Why Yesterday I went to Sandgate I found my parents old house In the High Street They left it in 1909 It was much the same as I remembered…

I have walked many miles In an effort to find you Mary-Anne But I have drawn a blank And I am now travelling home As you remain hidden in this city

The first time I met Norah Was when I caught her At my window calling for a coffee As her girlfriend crossed the road Her modesty was checked by a light blue shirt Which revealed as much as it tried to hide This was another one of those Greenville days That I had begun to…

When I first met Juliet I considered her Very beautiful But then she changed Her thoughts became infected And now I find her quite ugly

Once a week I would visit a slip road Where the whores Offered themselves I would give these poor women Bibles Which were without fail Thrown back at me This slip road Is now known as The Road of the Abandoned Bibles

My wife is a photographer I am her subject She often points her camera directly Into the sun As I can be seen to vanish slowly Within its arms