Non-live own up to nighting except poodles in the microwave oven and pillocks
On the Phillips TV; bare of any meaningful pith bereft of any reason or raisin
Puking in the back alleys of beaten up arms dealers vocal chords
Place in our time chips in our alcohol prannies in our way

Place in our time
Place in our time
Liquorice alltime

Stream of shit conciousness drunken heretic in an afternoon of tragic
Sunsets and foggy mornings, tragedy eyebrows, the rivers run with blood
From my ears like an electric mistress at point blank through the frontal
Lobes and back onto the dole and into the scratching paupers grave of daily
Drudge in the Thatcherdom of discontent and the greater Galtieri of
Disappearance and gall bladder melt down

Place in our time
Place in our time
Liquorice alltime

Dehydration. Bleeding mothers with totally infinitely traumatised human
Sausages in the greater green pea soup of azure weather maps and bullshit
Representation of Jack Frost God me stood at the bar sober as a Newton's
Apple falling through transcending universes of seven dimensions looking
For eight in the greedy onslaught for knowledge and total disregard for
Anything past future including history

Falling, we're falling, take me home my lovely to your first time bed and
Let me lie with you until they bury us in liquorice alltime, come my love we
Face togetherness in the tragedy of all time

Liquorice alltime