When I Go To Chasers I Pay At The Door

[Extracted From 'The TISM Guide To Little Aesthetics' (1987) ... and further nicked by TISM Self Storage from Fleur's website. It's not here because it's hard to find - although it is - but because I like it. Chasers and Inflation used to be nightclubs in Melbourne in the 80s and early 90s.]

When I go to Chasers I pay at the door
Then I gaze in wonder at the dance floor.
There are girls here with socks up to their knees
Standing around in two's and three's
Each one more beautiful than the one before
And none as gorgeous as number four.

I stand in mute admiration
At girls you would never see at Westall station -
Hair blonde, teeth white, skin brown, jeans tight.
Would they look this way if they turned up the light?
Oh, not for me to question why
just for me to wait for the eye.

Well, I know you'd never believe me (of course)
But I'm not really here for sexual intercourse:
Half of me wants to leer and smirk
And the other half wants to set them homework
It might seem pretty gauche - but, well,
I really feel like I'm at the PLC social.

Oh, what beautiful girls - and yet

Which one could name a song from "Beggars Banquet"? -
Because I can.
In their inner city homes
Which one of them could play early Stones?
What could they tell me about Jimmy Page
That I didn't know already when I was their age?
What interest have I in their girlie cohorts?

I'm not going to wear knee lenth fucking shorts.

With one of those girls it just wouldn't work -
I think Robert Smith is a poofter and Morrisey's a jerk,
I think getting drunk isn't such a big thrill -
The smell of ouzo and raspberry makes me feel ill.

They would ask me what's it like to go to Tech,
If I went skiing down Bulla I'd break my bloody neck,
If I took them out once I'd feel like a pose,
If I took then out twice I'd've run out of clothes.

So when I get to Chasers I'm content to look
Because even if I thought I had what it took
I know I'd be crossed off their little book
Because I didn't go to Xavier and my dad's not a crook.

Sunday night at Chasers - what's there left to tell?
It's like being in heaven and feeling like hell.
I know it's trite to say pleasure is like pain
But why else should I want to go back again?
I'm trapped forever unless - of course - jubilation!
Next week I'm gonna go to Inflation.


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