Studio album released 8 May 1979
10.15 Saturday Night
10.15
On a Saturday night
And the tap drips under the strip light
And I’m sitting in the kitchen sink
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Waiting
For the telephone to ring
And I’m wondering where she’s been
And I’m crying over yesterday
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
(It’s always the same)
Accuracy
(Cherish this moment)
(Feel safe)
We sit in the same room
Side by side
I give you the wrong lines
Feed you
Accuracy
Accuracy
Look into my eyes
We both smile
Kill you
Without trying
That’s accuracy
Accuracy
Accuracy
(An observer’s refrain)
Accuracy
Accuracy
Practice all day for accuracy
Mirror mirror on the wall
Grinding Halt
(1 2 3 4)
No light
No people
No speak
No people
No cars
No people
No food
No people
Stopped
Short
Grinding halt
Everything’s coming to a grinding halt
No sound
No people
No clocks
No people
No fine
No people
No me
No people
Stopped
Short
Grinding halt
Everything’s coming to a grinding halt
Everything’s coming to a grinding halt
Slow down
Slow down
No people
Slow down
Everything’s coming to a
Everything’s coming to a
Everything’s coming to a
Everything’s coming to a
Another Day
The sun rises slowly on another day
The Eastern sky grows cold
Winter in water colours
Shades of grey
Something, something holds me
Holds me hypnotized
I stare at the window
Stare at the window
Waiting for the day to go
Winter in water colours
Shades of grey
Object
You know you turn me on
Eyes so white and legs so long
But don’t try to talk to me
I won’t listen to your lies
You’re just an object in my eyes
You’re just an object in my eyes
Sophisticated smile
You seduce in such fine style
But don’t try to fool me
‘Cause I can see through your disguise
You’re just an object in my eyes
You’re just an object in my eyes
But I don’t mind
Just don’t care
I’ve got no objections
To you touching me there
Object object
Object object
Object object
Object object
You know just what to do
Lick your lips
And I want you
But don’t try to hold me
‘Cause I don’t want any ties
You’re just an object in my eyes
You’re just an object in my eyes
But I don’t mind
No, I just don’t care
I’ve got no objections
To you touching me there
You’re just an object object
You’re just an object object
You’re just an object object
You’re just an object object
Object object
You’re just an object object
You’re just an object object
You’re just an object
Subway Song
Midnight in the subway
She’s on her way home
She tries hard not to run
But she feels she’s not alone
Echoes of footsteps
Follow close behind
But she dare not turn around
Turn around
Turn around
Foxy Lady
(originally by Jimi Hendrix)
(When you’re ready?
So, do we…is it two verses?
No, Lol, no
This is a good intro!)
You know you are a cute little heartbreaker
You know your eyes swim, little lovemaker
I want to take you home
I won’t do you no harm
You’ve got to be all mine
All mine
I see you come down on the scene, Foxy
You make me want to get up and scream, Foxy
I’ve made up my mind
I’m tired of wasting, tired of wasting all my precious time
You’ve got to be all mine
All mine
I’ve made up my mind
I’m tired of wasting all my precious time
You’ve got to be all mine
All mine
Meathook
I went into the butcher
I said wanted wanted wanted some
Meat
Pass me some of that steak over there
You know it…
I lost my heart to a meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook
The butcher man was some lady, who really stole my
Pass me some of that stuff, that slaughterhouse art
I lost my heart to a meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook
Meathook in my heart
It’s tearing me all apart
It’s ripping out my insides, but I just can’t get away
I just can’t
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook, meat
I lost my heart to a meathook
Meathook, meathook, meathook, meathook
Meathook, meathook
Small talk, heart
My, my, my, my, my, my, oh…meat
So What?
Yeah, cake icing and decorating set
Special offer
Only 3 pound 30
Save 1 pound 52 on recommended retail price
Give your cakes and pies a professional look
With this superb
Decorating set
I’m not meant to be here
But so what?
And nobody’s
Nobody’s taken your place
Nobody’s taken your place
Each set includes
A turntable
A nine-inch icing bag
With six high definition nozzles and adapter
With a fifteen-inch food decorating bag
With three piping nozzles
Please send off this leaflet
Post it today
And if you knew nothing could replace you
If you were sane
Your heart wouldn’t ache
But so what?
So what?
So what?
Order now
Allow twenty-one days
For deliver
This offer closes
31st of December 1979
British sugar bureau
When I told you what I
And I
And I wouldn’t ask you to pretend
That we were one
And still another time
Forget all the lies, forgive me the wounds
And all the world was used to love
And yes, we’d still be happy in another time
But so what?
So what?
So please send me icing and decorating sets
I enclose a cheque and postal order number
So what?
So what?
Fire in Cairo
Slowly fading blue, the eastern hollows
Catch the dying sun
Nighttime follows
Silence and black
Mirror pool
Mirrors the lonely place
Where I meet you
See your head in the fading light
And through the dark your eyes shine bright
And burn like fire
Burn like fire in Cairo
Burn like fire
Burn like fire in Cairo
Shifting crimson veil, silken hips
Slide under my hand swollen lips
Whisper my name
And I yearn
You take me in your arms
And start to burn
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
Then the heat disappears, and the mirage fades away
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O
Burn like fire, burn like fire in Cairo
Burn like a fire in Cairo, burn like a
Fire, fire, fire, fire
Blaze like a fire in Cairo, blaze like
Fire, fire, fire, fire, flare
Burn like fire, burn like fire in Cairo
It’s Not You
You wear your smile like it was going out of fashion
Dress to inflame but douse any ideas of passion
You carry your love in a trinket hanging round your throat
Always inviting, always exciting but I must not take off my coat
Well I’m tired of hanging around
I want somebody new
I’m not sure who I’ve got in mind
But I know
That it’s not you
That it’s not you
You ask me questions that I never wanted to hear
I am the only one just until you finish this year
I would murder you if I had the alibi here in my hand
And you just laugh ’cause you don’t understand
That I’m tired of hanging around
I want somebody new
I’m not sure who I’ve got in mind
But I know that it’s not you
That it’s not you
That it’s not you
That it’s not you
That it’s not you
That it’s not you
No, it’s not you
That it’s not you
It’s not you
It’s not you
Three Imaginary Boys
Walk across the garden
In the footsteps of my shadow
See the lights out
No one’s home
In amongst the statues
Stare at nothing in
The garden moves
Can you help me?
Close my eyes
And hold so tightly
Scared of what the morning brings
Waiting for tomorrow
Never comes
Deep inside the empty feeling
All the nighttime leaves me
Three imaginary boys
Slipping through the door
Hear my heartbeat in the hallway
Echoes round and round inside my head
Drifting up the stairs I see the steps behind me disappearing
Can you help me?
Close my eyes
And hold so tightly
Scared of what the morning brings
Waiting for tomorrow
Never comes
Deep inside the empty feeling
All the nighttime leaves me
Three imaginary boys sing in my
Sleep sweet child
The moon will change your mind
See the cracked reflection
Standing still before the bedroom mirror
Over my shoulder but no one’s there
Whispers in the silence
Pressing close behind me
Pressing close behind
Can you help me?
Can you help me?
Can you help me?
The Weedy Burton
(Instrumental)
© 1979 Fiction Records. Written by Dempsey/Smith/Tolhurst