My friend Rex put up an image with the phrase SIMPLY INEDIBLE on it and joked that Morrissey should write a song called that. I did it instead...but the damned hook had, well, hooks...so I wrote a less-silly lyric instead.
Slightly less. Starring Jerry Mathers as the Devil. And it's very eighties in here—and Green Gartside is giving me side-eye for the verse arrangements.
lyrics
Pardon me (he said)—my flaming hooves
have set the carpet on fire.
Have sympathy instead—I am used
to temperatures so much higher.
Since I’ve fallen, they hate and despise me
more than rain on a wedding day,
but don’t hope you can help to revise me—
No hope in hell that I’ll just go away.
Out in the yard, she is gardening
and tasting some unknown fruit.
Dropping her guard, undisheartening
some salesman in snake-oiled boots.
Well I know I know when I’m dreamin’
and what’s in my tree and such,
if it’s high or low or broke even,
and which branches make a good crutch.
Sorry, madam and Steve,
you’ll be needing to leave—
No it’s not just the rent
or the garments forwent…
It would seem that we're
falling, falling, falling…
It's the inevitable
calling, calling, calling…
Still me and you,
we are nobody’s fools.
Dominoes blink, the clock goes blank,
and silos’ eyes open wide.
‘Shipping this brink, we flock in ranks
to mass and flow, whirled in whirlwind tide.
Such joy and freedom, unrooted,
thought we’d never, ever be free.
Hear our songs, our glory saluted
in rainbows of brute gravity.
So I think you’ll have guessed
with whose presence you’re blessed—
All those fates cast to winds
and which answers are wins…
There’s no question we’re
Falling, falling, falling…
Sorry nobody’s
calling, calling, calling…
From on high, we are
falling, falling, falling…
Can’t touch that dial, no
calling, calling, calling…
Still me and you,
we are nobod—
Just one guy with minimal gear whose main goal is to produce songs that sound like things he wants to hear...which, for some reason, no one else has bothered recording yet.
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