We used to do it to ease the tension. Pretend that sex wasn't our intention. Even weeks later when they all knew. It always helped just to have a few.
But now what's the point if we're not going out? It only makes you tired. and makes me shout.
Always the last chance for you and me. First come apologies, then the plea. I wash the walls as you pack your stuff. I've had too much and you've had enough.
So what's the point when we're not meeting friends? From midday to morning on weekdays or weekends.
We could pretend that this never started. That you're still shy, I'm still broken-hearted. And we'll get pissed just to watch the telly. I'll get worked up when you flash your belly.
But what's the point if we're just staying in? It's a lot of effort for one big din.
You've always thought the first time was that night on the boat, Ccramped up in the bottom bunk while she slept above. I suppose it's more glamourous out at sea under the moon. Instead of pissed at a party while they laughed below.
Twenty-three years of foreplay led up to this. But sometimes I envy my friends, sometimes I see a world of opportunity. And what if stays out there anchored in the middle of nowhere. Maybe we should arrange to meet somewhere, you go out with yours, I'll go out with mine.
You always thought the first time was on the boat, and you don't even like boats. When we got one on holiday all you could say was "don't go out too far". And what if it never comes back, it just stays out there on the sea. All my favourite memories are of you. All the best times were with you, but sometimes I see a world of opportunity.
We slept in this morning and she had to get ready in a hurry - no time for her usual attention to detail - and she ran out the door, slamming it behind her, leaving her keys swinging and jangling. I stayed in bed until I heard the downstairs door shut, then peeked through the blinds and as soon as she was out of sight, I went for the keys. She never tried to make a secret of the box or the fact it was locked or even where she kept it. But as I said at the time - "If you've nothing to hide, why hide it?"
It's one of those wee red cashbox things and she keeps it in a drawer by the bed, under some pictures and books. Every key she has is on the same keyring - it took me a while to find the right one. I don't know, I suppose I've had my doubts for a while. There's been hushed phone-calls virtually every night, her friends stop talking when I come in the room and they look at each other, and I don't know, it's just a feeling. Anyway, I eventually found the right key and it fitted perfectly in. I put the box on top of the bed and opened it up...
There were these pictures of friends and ex's, letters, postcards, doodles, nothing bad - and then I found some sort of sex diary and I went to the latest entry. It explicity detailed a recent adventure up the park with a boy she said she had forgotten about...
And it got worse as it went on. The dates never made sense, there were people I had never even heard of. Eventually I had to stop reading it because I started to feel sick. So I put everything back the way I found it, shut the drawer and phoned you. See, I don't know what to do. I keep having fantasies about leaving her dictaphone under the pillow or following her when she goes to work. I've been lying about where I'm going, just in case I can bump into her.
We met on mutual ground but you avoided my gaze until I lost your face in the next morning's haze.
You're shoes could've woken up the whole street. They drowned out the birds screaming in the trees. We sat down on the stone stairs and I watched the scars on your knees.
We met on mutual ground. You fell out of your dress. This bar's not open late enough, so let's go home and make a mess.
They smiled and left the room to leave us with more space but we stayed where we were and just had a drink to the chase.
A good night kiss equals a quick reaction but it's hard to believe I'm fully grown. So as usual, we parted on vague terms, so you could climb back on your thrown.
Another bloated disco, Another sniff of romance I'll forget We promised to ourselves before we came out We'd do something we regret
These people are your friends This cunted circus never ends I won't remember anything you say
I lost my social skills a while ago But now I feel them coming back My eyes were rolling when we met And now they are preparing for attack
I want to fall in love tonight And form the perfect unbreakable bond You can be my teenage Jenny Agutter Swimming naked in a pond
You know i'm always moanin' But you jumpstart my seratonin But how d'you know you've ever really loved?
But when I feel like this, I know it doesn't matter When I eat when I'm not hungy I'm sure I feel my face get fatter Then I thin out every weekend and I think that she might want me But I always slip off my own 'cause...
I let those feelings haunt me, they control me, But tonight I'm letting go You're more then just a photo album, You're more than what some people let you know
And if we ever make it home, I'll tell you all the things that shaped me thus; Something forged in a phonebox but lost in a restaurant We've got so much to discuss
Here, have you tried the blue ones? I hear he's got some new ones Sleep is not an option tonight
Look at us just stand and stare Look at them just pose and pout And we'll all be standing here Until the pigs chuck us out
There are no set rules to follow, just a big black gaping hollow that we fall into and hope that it means love. And the beasts snapping at your feet keep barking that you're incomplete. Ignore them, but heed the beasts above. So if you see me coming you better whistle or start humming a?cause otherwise, I 'll tell you now that I'll just walk right by a?cause lover, when I drink, I'm dozy but I fancy getting cosy and I heard a rumour that I might have caught your eye. So come on darling, break my heart. Mess me around and shag all my friends, a?cause we can't waste what we can't even start and it's best to go out with a bang when a wee disaster ends.
I don't like the words that the birds are singing. I hate their ugly voices and the messages they're bringing. But if everyone can start again and everyone can win then I'll re-arrange the place that I'm in.
And I can't stick the way that they flap and flutter. They whisper I'm a cunt and they cackle and they mutter. But i'm sure I heard them reassure me everything ends as I walked away from all my fake friends.
They've scrutinised the mistakes I've been making. They know who I've fucked, they know what I've taken. They've seen me in the shower with shit down my legs. They've seen me searching a stranger's house for dregs.
I used to think they loved me, but now I know it's pity and they know that they can always flee this fucking city. They even said they'd help me out and give me a head start and they know that these days my cock's as numb as my heart.
New blood flows. Old faces go. I like the new ones better. I think I like these girls. Feels like I've travelled miles. Now I want to party all the time. Now I want to party all the time again.
You said you didn't mind if she turned round to sleep but you were just half being nice, there's no rewards to reap. And if she had stayed up, you'd still be here alone. You'd still have no idea what that means and you'd still fear the phone.
The longest walk was that night in your brand new shoes but what you can't find now's the thing that you can't lose.
A change of scenery, a change of mind and face. He used your clothes and hands and then fucked off without a trace. I see him now and then, but now he just looks bored. He used to flirt with everyone but prefers to be ignored.
So let me dance tonight and I will be your host then maybe you'll make up your mind which one loves you most. We'll even leave the room, so you'll be free to choose. Remember what he can't find now's the thing that you can't lose.
Being thoughtful's just a curse but a one night stand just makes it worse.
I never slam the door these days then again, I’m never here. And you know where to find me with my oldest friend I hold so dear. Who named the days? Who named this mess? I don’t care what she says; I need to get out less.
Me and him go back a long way and his advice has always been shite. But he knows how to make me laugh, I’ve never bothered if he’s right. Who named the days? Who named this mess? I don’t care what she says, I need to get out less.
But sometimes when I’m with him I just stop being me. And he knows, on my own, I could never be the man he’s always wanted me to be. He makes me treat girls like shit. He makes me lie to them and use them.
I think he loves to watch me playing games and he loves to watch me lose them.
The rain pissed down on Leven's shores. The sane rain would rain on superstores and set off car alarms in our street. Let's burn our clothes and hunt our meat.
A day of skies, a day of feasts, we fell to bed, to grunt like beasts. We could live in your wee car, we could never go too far.
A flash of sun between your thighs, a perfect black shape to protect my eyes. A swooping hawk, a dying tree. "Fuck me," says he, "fuck you," says she.
If i'm a clown, then you're a mime but I'm sure that we'd be friends in time. The selkie put her skin back on and swam away, back to her own
Arab Strap의 신보는 너무나 낯선 사운드로 포문을 엽니다. <The Shy Retirer>를 듣는 순간 머리 속에 떠오른 것은 아랍 스트랩이 Notwist가 되기라도 한 것인가? 라는 생각이었습니다. 일렉비트의 사운드 톤, 기타가 멜로디를 뿌리는 방식은 매우 낯익은 것이고, 무엇보다 Aidan Moffat이 뭔가 노래를 부르고 있습니다. 이른바 spoken words는 아랍 스트랩에게 있어서 하나의 정체성으로 기능해 왔습니다. 그의 지극히 개인적인 가사와 맞물린 남자의 자족적 독백은 Malcolm Middleton의 재능 어린 잿빛 사운드와 더불어 아랍 스트랩을 세기말에 가장 우울한 밴드 중 하나로 기록하도록 했습니다. 다음 트랙으로 넘어가면 뭔가 변했다는 의구심은 더해갑니다. 그들의 음악...