 |
 |
 | |
| Pete Atkin sings
The Hypertension Kid by Clive James and Pete Atkin, [Much more at www.peteatkin.com] |
|||||
| LYRIC: | |||||
|
Last night I met the Hypertension Kid Grimly chasing shorts with halves of bitter In a Mayfair club they call the Early Quitter He met my eyes and hit me for a quid "I spend fortunes in this rat-trap" said the Kid "But the plush and flock soak up the brain's kerfuffle And I like to see a servile barman shuffle If sympathy's your need let's hear your bid" "It's my lousy memory" I told the Kid "What other men forget I still remember The flies are still alive inside the amber It's a garbage can with rubbish for a lid" "Your metaphors are murder" said the Kid "I know the mood -- give in to it a little The man who shatters is the man who's brittle Lay off the brakes and steer into the skid" "Strained virtue warps the soul" announced the Kid "Those forced attempts at cleanliness that linger Like soap between your wedding ring and finger They're residues of which you're better rid" "For evil" said the Hypertension Kid "Is better contemplated in the deeds of others Mass-murderers and men who knife their mothers Be glad that what you've done is all you did" "With me the problem's women" said the Kid "Befuddled, fondled under separate covers One and all they've gone to other lovers As I powered down to zero from the grid" "But I love the little darlings" sighed the Kid "The slide from grace is really more like gliding And I've found the trick is not to stop the sliding But to find a graceful way of staying slid" "As for the dreadful memories" said the Kid "The waste and poison in the spirit's river Relax your hands and let the bastards quiver They tremble more the more you keep it hid" We turned to leave the bar, me and the Kid I with lightened head and lessened terror Towards the street, and he into the mirror: My second self, the Hypertension Kid | |||||
 |
 |
    | |||
 | |||||