Arab Strap

The rain woke us up.
You turned round and just did it.
Good morning, slow down.
Have you remembered where you hid it?

You cried in the kitchen.
We made up in the hall.
I watched you get dressed.
Those boots make you too tall.

And we made each other late,
'cause I took my watch off there,
so it wouldn't scratch your skin,
or get tangled in your hair.

It wasn't long ago
we went on guided tours
but I forgot what it meant
to pretend my hand is yours.

It's best in the morning.
When we know it won't be rushed.
So leave the curtains closed
and come back when you've brushed.

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 used to be part of the scenery
but now I know your name.
And my mind wonders what my hands would do
to make sure that you came.

She hardly said a word again tonight.
I threw a book and grabbed my keys.
And on the way here I swore to myself,
I'd fuck whoever I please.

Everywhere I go,
there's so much on show.
Everyone is beautiful
and I stay dutiful.

The only solid solution is to sever my hands.
Stitch my mouth up and blind me.
Wrap me up and pack me tight.
Leave me somewhere you'll never find me.

Everywhere I go,
there's so much on show.
Everyone is beautiful
but I stay dutiful.

It must just be the sun
and my desire for fun.
If you did it, would you tell us?
I think I'll always be jealous.

If I could always be eighteen.
You could always be eight.
We'd draw monsters on your walls.
I'll keep you up too late.

'Cause getting served in pubs
isn't all it's cracked up to be.
I dreamt you were wee again.
Arms stretched out and pining for me.

Come here so I can help you
tie your brand new tie,
brush your coat and remember
no-one laughs if you cry.

Well fuck me, it's windy.
We picked a good day.
That's the first drink I've ever bought you
and I'm sure you're starting to sway.

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.

How can nothing ever mean something?
It goes from white to grey so fast.
A new pool on a strange mattress.
Helps me catch up with my past.

Pass me something to wipe with.
We're so easy to please.
Do you worry that it's loaded?
Laced with a million littles me's.

So are you up for the hat-trick
or are you down for a rest?
Is the whitest light between our legs
or hidden in my chest?

And if they see us on the stairs
or if they catch us on the sink.
Move quickly and brush it off
with a giggle and a wink.

At least we know we're fuckable,
at least we're sated and we're tired.
At least the bedroom stinks,
and we know we're desired.

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.

Haunt me.
I know
you'll keep me
in tow.

No laugh,
no guide,
no limp
beside.

So haunt me
'cause I know
you'll keep me
in tow.

If she's all
I need
to love
and breed.

then haunt me
'cause I'll know
you'll keep me
in tow.

You always jump and quiver
when you're coming in to land
with no runway, no guidance
no nails dug into my hand.

We could have whoever we want.
We could go back to school
and see the dead laugh again.
Let's get dressed up and pull.

The only benefit of drinking.
The downside of what we take.
Some weekends I feel
like I could always be awake.

A party in a strangers house.
Have we ever met the host?
Just smile and keep talking
and get your can for a toast.

We won't always be safe here
but this is where we reign.
Pull it tight to protect us.
We might never sleep again.