Fish lyrics:

Script for a Jester Tear

So here I am once more in the playground
of the broken hearts,
One more experience, one more entry in a diary, self-penned
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride
Too late to say I love you - Too late to restage the play
Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday

I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts
Too much, too soon, too far to go, too late to play,
The game is over, the game is over

So here I am once more in the playground of the broken hearts
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts, the game is over, [over]
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts, roundabouts, the game is over

Too late to say I love you,
Too late to restage the play, the game is over
I act the role in classic style of a martyr carved with twisted smile
To bleed the lyric for this song to write the rites to right my wrongs
An epitaph to a broken dream to exercise this silent scream
A scream that's borne from sorrow

I never did write that lovesong,
The words just never seemed to flow
Now sad in reflection did I gaze through perfection
And examine the shadows on the other side of morning
And examine the shadows on the other side of morning
Promised wedding now a wake, promised wedding now a wake, [a wake]

The fool escaped from paradise
Will look over his shoulder and cry
Sit and chew on daffodils and struggle to answer Why?
As you grow up and leave the playground
Where you kissed your prince and found your frog,
Remember the jester that showed you tears, the script for tears

So I'll hold our peace forever when you wear your bridal gown
In the silence of my shame the mute that sang the sirens' song
Has gone solo in the game - I've gone solo in the game, but the game is over

Can you still say you love me, can you still say you love me
Can you still say that you love me,
Do you love me, do you love me, do you love me,
Do you love me, the jester's tear

Can you still say you love me, can you still say you love me,
Can you still say that you love me?

The jester's tear, the jester's tear
[Do you love me]



 The Web

The rain auditions at my window, its symphony echoes in my womb
My gaze scans the walls of this apartment
to rectify the confines of my tomb

I'm the cyclops in the tenement
I'm the soul without the cause
Crying midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doors
Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor
Stained by the wine from a shattered glass,
Meaningless words, yellowed by time,
Faded photos exposing pain, celluloid leeches bleeding my mind
Christ, you've finished playing hangman,
you've cast the fateful dice
Advice, advice, advice me, this shroud will not suffice
And thus begins the web

Attempting to discard these clinging memories,
I only serve to wallow in our past
I fabricate the weave with my excuses,
its strands I hope and pray shall last
Oh please do last, oh please do last

The flytrap needs the insects, ivy caresses the wall
Needles make love to the junkies, the sirens seduce with their call
Confidence has deserted me, with you it has forsaken me
Confused and rejected, despised and alone,
I kiss isolation on its fevered brow
Security clutching me, obscurity threatening me
Christ, your reasons were so obvious as my friend have qualified
I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry, but even jesters cry
I realise I hold the key to freedom,
Oh I cannot let my life be ruled by threads
The time has come to make decisions, the changes have to be made

I realise I hold the key to freedom,
I cannot let my life be ruled by threads
The time has come to make decisions, the changes have to be made

Now I leave you, the past does have its say
You're all but forgotten mote in my heart
Decisions have been made, they've been made, they've been made

Decisions have been made
I've conquered my fears, all my fears
The flaming shroud, the flaming shroud
Thus ends the web, the web, the web, the web, the web.



 Fugazzi

Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a cell,
Extinguishing the fires in a private hell,
Provoking the heartache to renew the licence
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience
Wrapped in the christening shawl of a hangover,
Baptised in the tears from the real, tears from the real

Drowning in the liquid seize on the Piccadilly line, rat race,
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth,
Ophelias hand with breathstroke ambition,
An albatross in the marrytime tradition,
Sheathed within the walkman wear the halo of distortion,
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation,
[She turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart
She hung herself around my neck]

From the Time-Life-Guardians
in their conscience bubbles,
Safe and dry in my sea of troubles,
Nine to five with suitable ties,
Cast adrift as their sideshow, peepshow, stereo hero,
Becalm bestill, bewitch, drowning in the real.

The thief of Baghdad hides in Islingtown now
Praying deportation for his sacred cow,
A legacy of romance from a twilight world
The dowry of a relative mystery girl
A Vietnamese flower, a dockland union,
A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs,
Magdalenes contracts more than favours
The feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat

A son of a swastika of '45 parading a peroxide standard,
Graffiti disciples testaments of hatred,
Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedges,
This is Brixton chess
A knight for Embankment folds his newspaper castle,

A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin,
He'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll call,
And linger with the heartburn of Good Friday's last supper

Son watches father scan obituary columns in search of absent school friends,
While his generation digests high fibre ignorance,
Cowering behind curtains and the taped up painted windows,
Decriminalised genocide, provided door to door Belsens
Pandora's box of holocausts gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens,
Waiting, wai-wai-waiting, the season of the button, the penultimate migration,
Radioactive perfumes, for the fashionably, for the terminally insane, insane,
D-d-do you realise? D-d-do you realise?
D-d-do you realise, this world is totally fugazi

[Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries, where are the poets,
To breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary]



 Lavender

I was walking in the park dreaming of a spark
When I heard the sprinklers whisper,
Shimmer in the haze of summer lawns.
Then I heard the children singing,
They were running through the rainbows.
They were singing a song for you.
Well it seemed to be a song for you,
The one I wanted to write for you, for you, you.

Lavenders blue, dilly dilly, lavenders green,
When I am King, dilly dilly,
You will be Queen.
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
I.O.U. for your love, I.O.U. for your love.

Lavenders green, dilly dilly, lavenders blue.
When you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you.
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
A penny for your thoughts my dear,
I.O.U. for your love, I.O.U. for your love.

Lavender dreams dilly, dilly lavender true,
When you miss me dilly dilly, I do miss you
A penny for your thoughts my dear
A Penny for your thoughts my dear
I.O.U for your love, I.O.U. for your love
For your love, for your love, for your love

Oh, I gotta find my way back to you
Gotta find my way back to you
For your love, for your love, for your love

I'm always walking in the park
Always dreaming of a spark
From you...



 Vocabulary: The paragraph: Lavenders blue, dilly dilly, lavenders green, When I am King, dilly dilly, You will be Queen. Is a direct quote from an old English nursery rhyme.