Playing Harp For The Fishes
Colin Newman, Graham Lewis, Wire
A mute undertaker had something to tell
I stand at the threshold, I’m ringing the bell
I was hoping for heaven, I’d settle for hell
Playing harp for the fishes, it’s hard to pretend
Playing…
Patrolling the margins, inspecting the swell
Located the body south of Land’s End
I’d long missed the boat, the tide had gone slack
Playing harp for the fishes, it’s hard to pretend
Playing…
The heat was zinc, my mood was black
I was melting, soaked, in a trackside shack
I was frying in heaven, I was diving to hell
Playing harp for the fishes, it’s hard to pretend
Playing...
Is it always so?
It’s always so...