OH HELLO
I am the ghost of Troubled Joe
Hung by his pretty white neck
Some eighteen months ago
I travelled to a mystical time zone
And I missed my bed
And I soon came home

They said :
“There’s too much caffeine
In your bloodstream
And a lack of real spice
In your life”


I said :
“Leave me alone
Because I’m alright, dad
Surprised to still
Be on my own…”


Oh, but don’t mention love
I’d hate the strain of the pain again
A rush and a push and the land that
We stand on is ours
It has been before
So it shall be again
And people who are uglier than you and I
They take what they need, and just leave


Oh, but don’t mention love
I’d hate the pain of the strain all over again
A rush and a push and the land that
We stand on is ours
It has been before
So why can’t it be now ?
And people who are weaker than you or I
They take what they want from life


Oh, but don’t mention love
No – no, don’t mention love !
A rush and a push and the land that
We stand on is ours
Your youth may be gone
But you’re still a young man
So phone me, phone me, phone me
So phone me, phone me, phone me


Oh, I think I’m in love
Oh, I think I’m in love
Oh, I think I’m in love (think I’m in love)
Urrgh, I think I’m in lerv
Oh …

I was minding my business
Lifting some lead off
The roof of the Holy Name church
It was worthwhile living a laughable life
To set my eyes on the blistering sight
Of a vicar in a tutu
He’s not strange
He just wants to live his life this way

A scanty bit of a thing
With a decorative ring
That wouldn’t cover the head of a goose
As Rose collects the money in a cannister
Who comes sliding down the bannister ?
The vicar in a tutu
He’s not strange
He just wants to live his life this way


The monkish monsignor
With a head full of plaster
Said : “My man, get your vile soul dry-cleaned”
As Rose counts the money in the cannister
As natural as Rain
He dances again
My god !
The vicar in a tutu
Oh yeah
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh …
The vicar in a tutu
Oh yeah
Oh …


The next day in the pulpit
With Freedom and Ease
Combatting ignorance, dust, and disease
As Rose counts the money in the cannister
As natural as Rain
He dances again and again and again


In the fabric of a tutu
Any man could get used to
And I am the living sign
And I’m a living sign
I am a living sign
I’m a living sign
I am a living sign
I’m a living sign
Sign …
I am a living sign

At the record company meeting
On their hands – a dead star
And oh, the plans they weave
And oh, the sickening greed

At the record company party
On their hands – a dead star
The sycophantic slags all say :
“I knew him first, and I knew him well”


Re-issue ! Re-package ! Re-package !
Re-evaluate the songs
Double-pack with a photograph
Extra Track (and a tacky badge)


A-list, playlist
“Please them , please them !”
“Please them !”
(sadly, THIS was your life)


But you could have said no
If you’d wanted to
You could have said no
If you’d wanted to


BPI, MTV, BBC
“Please them ! Please them !”
(sadly this was your life)


But you could have said no
If you’d wanted to
You could have walked away
…Couldn’t you ?


I touched you at the soundcheck
You had no real way of knowing
In my heart I begged “Take me with you …
I don’t care where you’re going…”


But to you I was faceless
I was fawning, I was boring
Just a child from those ugly new houses
Who could never begin to know


Who could never really know
Oh …


Best of ! Most of !
Satiate the need
Slip them into different sleeves !
Buy both, and feel deceived


Climber – new entry, re-entry
World tour ! (“media whore”)
“Please the Press in Belgium !”
(THIS was your life…)


And when it fails to recoup ?
Well, maybe :
You just haven’t earned it yet, baby


I walked a pace behind you at the soundcheck
You’re just the same as I am
What makes most people feel happy
Leads us headlong into harm


So, in my bedroom in those ‘ugly new houses’
I danced my legs down to the knees
But me and my ‘true love’
Will never meet again …


At the record company meeting
On their hands – at last ! – a dead star !
But they can never taint you in my eyes
No, they can never touch you now


No, they cannot hurt you, my darling
They cannot touch you now
But me and my ‘true love’
Will never meet again

Call me morbid, call me pale
I’ve spent six years on your trail
Six long years
On your trail

Call me morbid, call me pale
I’ve spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail


And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I’ll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the Y … W.C.A.
I said : “I like it here – can I stay ?
I like it here – can I stay ?
Do you have a vacancy
For a Back-scrubber?”


She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me, equally dour
She said : “In the days when you were
Hopelessly poor
I just liked you more…”


And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I’ll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the Y … W.C.A.
I said : “I like it here – can I stay ?
I like it here – can I stay ?
And do you have a vacancy
For a Back-scrubber ?”


Call me morbid, call me pale
I’ve spent too long on your trail
Far too long
Chasing your tail
Oh …


And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I’ll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
That’s the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
The story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
The story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story of my life
That’s the story …