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Jam - Private Hell Şarkı Sözleri
a mirrored image - of what you wanted to be. as each day goes by - a little more - you can´t remember - what it was you wanted anyway. the fingers feel the lines - they prod the space - your aging face - the face that once was so beautiful, is still there but unrecognizable - private hell. the man who you once loved - is bald and fat - and seldom in - working late as usual. your interest has waned - you feel the strain - the bed springs snap - on the occasions he lies upon you - close your eyes and think of nothing but - private hell. think of emma - wonder what she´s doing - her husband terry - and your grandchildren. think of edward - who´s still at college - you send him letters - which he doesn´t acknowledge. ´cause he don´t care, they don´t care. ´cause they´re all going through their own - private hell. the morning slips away - in a valium haze - and catalogues - and numerous cups of coffee. in the afternoon - the weekly food - is put in bags - as you float off down the high street. the shop windows reflect - play a nameless host to a closet ghost a picture of your fantasy - a victim of your misery and - private hell. alone at 6 o´clock - you drop a cup - you see it smash - inside you crack - you can´t go on - but you sweep it up - safe at last inside your private hell. sanity at last inside your private hell. saturdays kids - paul weller saturdays boys live life with insults, drink lots of beer and wait for half time results, afternoon tea in the lite-a-bite - chat up the girls - they dig it! saturdays girls work in tesco´s and woolworths, wear cheap perfume ´cause its all they can afford, go to discos - they drink babycham - talk to jan - in bingo accents. saturdays kids play one arm bandits, they never win but that´s not the point is it? dip in silver paper when their pints go flat, how about that - far out! their mums and dads smoke capstan non filters, wallpaper lives ´cause they all die of cancer, what goes on - what goes wrong. save up their money for a holiday, to selsey bill or bracklesham bay, think about the future - when they´ll settle down, marry the girl next door - with one on the way. these are the real creatures that time has forgot, not given a thought - its the system - hate the system - what´s the system? saturdays kids live in council houses, wear v-necked shirts and baggy trousers, drive cortinas - fur trimmed dash boards, stains on the seats - in the back, of course! the eton rifles - paul weller sup up your beer and collect your fags, there´s a row going on down near slough, get out your mat and pray to the west, i´ll get out mine and pray for myself. thought you were smart when you took them on, but you didn´t take a peep in their artillery room, all that rugby puts hairs on your chest, what chance have you got against a tie and a crest. hello-hurray - what a nice day - for the eton rifles hello-hurray - i hope rain stops play - with the eton rifles. thought you were clever when you lit the fuse, tore down the house of commons in your brand new shoes, composed a revolutionary symphony, then went to bed with a charming young thing. hello-hurray - cheers then mate - its the eton rifles hello-hurray - an extremist scrape - with the eton rifles. what a catalyst you turned out to be, loaded the guns then you run on home for your tea. left me standing - like a guilty schoolboy. we came out of it naturally the worst, beaten and bloody and i was sick down my shirt, we were no match for their untamed wit, though some of the lads said they´ll be back next week. hello-hurray - there´s a price to pay - to the eton rifles hello-hurray - i´d prefer the plague - to the eton rifles (repeat) precious - paul weller your precious love - that means so much will it ever stop - or will i just lose touch what i want to say - but my words just fail is that i need it so - i can´t help myself like a hungry child - i just help myself and when i´m full up - i go out to play but i don´t mean to bleed you dry or take you over for the rest of your life it´s just that i need something solid in mine lonely as the moors on a winter´s morning quiet as the sea on a cool calm night in your tranquil shadow - i try and follow i hear your distant show clicks to the midnight beat - i feel trapped in sorrow in this imagery but that´s how i am and why i need you so |
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