Some song lyrics misheard over the cafe hubbub…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the sound of the word ‘mulch’. (M)
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‘Girl, I spat on a Sunday…’
‘Love colours know weeping.’
‘Oh, one moment, melt me goo…’
‘Baby, slide to me-ee.’
‘Now me, now me, witty keep me-ee…’
‘Coo-oo-oo, mm-mm-mm…’
‘You bedda be-ee, you bedda be-ee.’
‘Gotta be whoo, see me count down!’
‘Beat in de-oh, dipco-coo!’
‘Your palms – all-out rage girl.’
‘Blay blay, in your trapdoor…’
‘So what did I yeah?’
‘I don’t want poultry.’
‘Abbaloo day-glo woman…’
‘Here I am, here I am, here I am…’
‘All over the up bubba!’
‘Oh, oh, it’s on a three-ee…’
‘Situation round, turn and found me.’
‘Time and nowt and strong no…’
‘Nuthin’ mo to say-yay…’
‘Two-whoo-whoo ah-ah…’
‘Keelong time and taste the day Babe.’
‘Hap-stay, hap-stay…’
‘Gordon toffee on his car…’
‘Oh, never the feel shoe-oo…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in art, brain, cool, dreaming, Dulltown, existentialism, Hull.UK., humour, information, music, observations, poetry, serendipity, sex, style, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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