Dept Of Chickentown Karaoke (Evidently)

by Nick Glossop on October 20, 2012Comments Off

Christopher Eccleston conflates the bard of Salford with the bard of Stratford in the Danny Boyle (he of the scandalously topical opening ceremonies to the London Olympics) short film Strumpet. (Strong language warning)

the fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chief’s a fucking swine
who fucking draws a fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
the fucking kids he fucking blames
are nowehere to be fucking found
anywhere in chicken town
the fucking scene is fucking sad
the fucking news is fucking bad
the fucking weed is fucking turf
the fucking speed is fucking surf
the fucking folks are fucking daft
don’t make me fucking laugh
it fucking hurts to look around
everywhere in chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you’re fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town
the fucking view is fucking vile
for fucking miles and fucking miles
the fucking babies fucking cry
the fucking flowers fucking die
the fucking food is fucking muck
the fucking drains are fucking fucked
the colour scheme is fucking brown
everywhere in chicken town
the fucking pubs are fucking dull
the fucking clubs are fucking full
of fucking girls and fucking guys
with fucking murder in their eyes
a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
waiting for a fucking cab
you fucking stay at fucking home
the fucking neighbors fucking moan
keep the fucking racket down
this is fucking chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you’re fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town
the fucking pies are fucking old
the fucking chips are fucking cold
the fucking beer is fucking flat
the fucking flats have fucking rats
the fucking clocks are fucking wrong
the fucking days are fucking long
it fucking gets you fucking down
evidently chicken town

I Don’t Wanna Be Nice (with the Invisible Girls)

Fun Fact: the Invisible Girls were at times a Joy Division/Buzzcocks side project.

Limbo (baby, limbo)

The Bells of St. Theresa’s
signify the third degree
who killed Jesus?
it wasn’t me
in the single files of history
I’ve been interfered with
in a blue murder mystery
fall and disappear
some people fall from windows
some from aeroplanes
landing on their feet in Limbo
it’s a doorway in the rain
take out all the yesterdays
leave us with our-souls

um uh uh

got me out of the hole
the women on the jury
check psychiatrists reports
I restate my life story
they cut me short
put you with the pinkos
you need a change
we are sending you to Limbo
it is a doorway in the rain
sitting on the border between violence and sleep
arch-angels keep order
the order they keep
beyond the realms of intellect
between slavery and love
orders issued indirectly, from above
this place is full of gringos
booked a seat in advance
Limbo baby Limbo
they don’t wanna dance
they live in the confession box
they are the scorned desire
burns like chickenpox
insolence is dumb
a refugee from Purgatory
in a purple robe of scorn
in the Holy Ghost observatory
wearing the Crown of Thorns
the place is full of gringos
booked a seat in advance
Limbo baby Limbo
they don’t wanna dance
they take the tradesman’s entrance
I’m talking to a tramp
every fucking sentence he complains about the damp
the only girl is a faint cry
everybody’s bent
weekends we watch paint dry
it’s a big event
look through heaven’s windows
with their opalescent panes
Limbo baby Limbo
down the boulevards of shame
the Virgin Mary dies intact
she hardly looks awake
her teenage face denies the fact
her feet are crushing snakes
the hyper-regal imagery
the soft Italian skin
the medieval gimmickry
does me in
look through heaven’s windows
you see the powder blue veil
the pin-up girl of Limbo
the sweetheart of the jail
savage orphans hopscotch outside the silver gates
the witch doctor’s wristwatch, stuck at 5 to 8
a bad break
a slight ache
that’s everyone’s complaint
for Christ’s sake give us cake
and mugshots of the saints
and many more attractions
too nondescript to mention
too numerous to name
they are staying in detention
in the doorways in the rain
temporarily paralyzed
in a morbid orbit shift
halfway to paradise
stuck in the lift
for a fraction of forever
in a dull part of the sky
heroes go to heaven
the public merely die
a smart cracking bimbo
you cannot be employed
they are sending you to Limbo
on a stairway to a void
clocks with Roman numerals
turn the time to stone
I always cry at funerals
especially me own
I’m a sad case, a vacant space
nothing to declare
I wouldn’t be seen dead in this place
it’s neither here nor there
spivs, bogies and dimbos
they’re my only friends
this is Limbo
this is the End

Originally posted Oct. 21, 2011