Robyn Hitchcock

Your mother is a journalist, your father is a creep They make it in your bedroom when they think you're fast asleep The scenes that they're enacting now beside your little bed Are never in your consciousness but always in your head Baby It might soun

Do you wonder like I do What goes on inside of you In the cathedral of the mind All the worshippers are blind Like a toilet from outside A cathedral from inside There behind your open face Lies an awful lot of space And if I ever look into your open

I used to say I love you; It wasn't really true. I wanted to believe it, And now I almost do. I used to say I love you; I said it as a threat, Or maybe as a promise To see what I could get. But my heart doesn't break anymore. No, my heart doesn't ach

I Feel Beautiful - Robyn Hitchcock I feel beautiful Because you love me I water the tomatoes and I think of you No one's ever watered me the way you do I feel beautiful Because you love me I feel like a creature that is sleekly groomed Not some poiso

Trams of old London Taking my baby into the past in it Trams of old London blow my mind Ludgate, Fenchurch, Highgate Hill Rolling slowly up there still, uh-huh Waterloo and Clerkenwell Out to Aldgate East as well, uh-huh On a clear night you can see

The air is getting hotter There's a rumbling in the skies I've been wading through the high muddy water With the heat rising in my eyes Everyday your memory grows dimmer It doesn't haunt me like it did before I've been walking through the middle of n