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Arab Strap




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Arab Strap Album



1999
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Toy Flights
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. . .



I pulled the ex last night, and it felt weird to feel her up again.
Knickers down and bra cast as if the past had not passed.
And she bought the drinks all night, that's okay, now she's got a job.
Her generosity - my curse. She even let me keep her purse.

But I couldn't get it up - too much to drink, too much to say.
She picked her clothes up off the floor and promptly headed for the door.

I was just trying to use my favourite muse.
I don't think I could ever want her back,
I'm just making sure she's still capable of being slack.

And she's got trouble with her boyfriend now. I always said he was a prick.
I told her from the very start, when she almost broke my heart.

And my room's a mess this morning. She left her fag-ends floating in a glass.
I didn't try and make her stay. I doubt she would have anyway.
I was just trying to use my favourite muse. It's nice to see she's still slack.
I could never want her back.


. . .



It was the biggest ever cock you'd ever seen, but you've no idea where that cock has been.
You said you were careful - you never were with me.
I heard you did it four times and jonnies come in packs of three.

She was the best shag I'd ever had.
That doesn't mean I'm saying, bedwise, you were bad.
I think you were working, we got a hotel.
We didn't have anything but I thought I might as well.

I never told the rest.
I was drunk and I told you I was thinking about a test.
You know I just said it for effect.
Then you laughed and said I'd fuck anything in a skirt once I'm erect.

And she's a famous harlot in this town.
I know enough to, but still I couldn't turn her down.
He said I'm an arsehole, what was I thinking?
It's far too easy to blame it on the drinking.


. . .



You just have to be sure you're doing the right thing. I mean it's very easy to forget - she's was just sitting there in the pub with her new friends and her new life and her new hair and it might been five years but you'd know just to look at her.

I wasn't even sure it was her at first, I was ready to walk away but she smiled and called me over and we said hello for a bit. When we went back to our tables we were tried not to look over at each other and told our friends to stop staring.

I didn't see her for the rest of the night, but by closing time the beer's kicked in so I go up and speak to her and we end up going for a walk and talking about our new homes, our new jobs, our new friends and our new birds.

She says she's been going out with him now for about two and a half years, but they don't live together so he'd never find out. And you think about chasing her about school when you were wee and lying in your bed and listening to love songs and pretending they were about you. And the first time you asked her out she said no but one night you went to a wedding and when you came back to the pub she'd changed her mind and you went out. You remember the way she swung her arms when she held your hand but you can't remember how she kissed and now you've got the chance to find out.

But you have to remember there's this other kiss. And she's sitting at home, wondering where you are and what you're doing. And you work hard on this kiss and you know it inside out, it's as much yours as it is hers, and it took a long time to get right, it took months of practice and months of embarassment but now you've got it perfected and you've been looking forward to that kiss all week.

You can see her breath in the air between your faces as you stand in the leaves and she just asks you straight out if you want to come and stay at her flat. But you make sure you get separate taxis and you go home and there might be a slight regret and maybe you'll wonder what you missed but you have to remember the kiss that you worked so hard on - and you'll know you've done the right thing.


. . .

Toy Flights

[No lyrics]

. . .



How am I supposed to walk you home
Wwhen you're at least fifty feet ahead?
'Cause you walked off in a huff,
And I'm that pissed I can't remember what it was I said.

And I don't doubt you wouldn't touch him now
But let's face it, you always used to go for that kind.
And if you ever really wanted two men at once,
All I'm saying is I better be one of the guys you've got in mind.

Here we go, same time, same place.
I don't like the way you kissed his face.
It's not that there's no trust as such.
I'd love to make up but I've had to much.

Now you know fine well I'm staying,
I've only ever carried out that threat once before.
And even then I couldn't get far and your mum came and
Called me back before I'd even made it to the door.

Here we go, same time, same place.
My embarassment versus your damp face.
We could talk down here or we could talk in bed,
But I'm afraid that's all, as I've already said.


. . .



Phone me tonight when you're pissed, just to tell me that I'm missed. Tell me you want me in your cunt. Tell me you're not sure what you want. I tried to tell you, I thought I made it clear. Nothing could make me not want you here. Phone me tomorrow when you're sober, just to remind me that it's over and that I'm not needed now in your bed. And of all the things that I apparently never said. I tried to tell you, I tried to say. I never wanted us to end that way.


. . .



We're sitting drinking fruity alco-pops from pint glasses with ice and watching the girls of summer. With their bare legs and trainers and the white strap lines from yesterday's top beneath today's blowing across their peeling shoulders when they wait at the bar.

Later I'll put on a tape in the bathroom and attempt to shave whilst half cut and end up slashing open my cheek or nickin' my lip. Then spray on some poof juice and go to the park with my economy cider. I don't think I'll need a jacket.

It'll still be bright when the carry outs are finished and we head to the pub to get everyone else, leaving our empties kicked behind a bush. We'll get 'em in there and casually saunter into the bogs and swallow. And get taxi's down to a club. With me saluting magpies through the window on the way, in the hope that I'll get a shag.

But I'll wake up clamped round a girl I know, fully clothed on someone's couch having barely slept for two hours, all sweaty and thoughtful and needing affection. And then you'll wake up and the first thing we'll do is to make plans to get pissed. So we'll sit in a pub and watch the girls of summer.


. . .



You'd already been half an hour
With pre-clubbing shower
And I'd always planned to have a look
In your special Winnie the Pooh book.
The place was marked
And it was there in blue and white
It just said simply, "Paul stayed last night."

Next I was on the bog
And you got down on one knee
You were protesting your innocence
And you started to cry
Just as I started to pee.

You said,
"I didn't shag him,
He slept on the couch in the kitchen.
He might as well be a girl,
He's a good for a laugh and he's good for bitchin'."

You said you'd never be willing or able.
And he looks like he was made on a fucking table.
Although, to be fair, I think he hides the bolts quite well,
But as soon as he opens his mouth you can just tell.

I had just assumed you'd completely gone off shagging
And I can you see you with your new Uni pals standing bragging.
Now, he's your boyfriend and I know you were talking shite
But you still denied it when I met you at someone's birthday party the other night.

You said,
"I didn't shag him,
He slept on the couch in the kitchen.
We have a good laugh when we're sitting bitchin'."

The words that you used to think turned me on
Just made me laugh -
"Do you want to suck my cunt?" in real life just sounds naff.
And when we were with your friends I just as well might of been no-one.
And you can't get over your dead dog - well it takes one to know one.


. . .



I wish it was someone else's blood on the johnnie.
It's in my mouth and under my nails.
I wish I'd woken up in someone else's bed.
I wish I was the wind in someone else's sails.

I've no-one in particular in mind right now.
It was inevitable we'd end up in the sack.
I should have known you'd want to try again.
But I'm looking forward now. I'm not stepping back.

And my last lover's playing with a new man now.
It's only three weeks we've been apart.
They sat together and he sent her flowers.
Well he can fucking keep that fickle disco tart.

'Cause I've had it up to here with little girls.
She looked ugly today day, smoking a fag.
Just like a schoolgirl trying to look grown-up.
Now I'm looking for a woman but I'll settle for a shag.


. . .



The bed's a mess when we're finished and at rest, and I can just see the post-fuck flush across your chest.
The telly's silent, the room's lit only by the screen, and now we're perfect moulds with just our pulses in between.

Well I'm not listening to what my mother said - what we're doing inside my bed.
And I'm not pretending this time you're someone else, but I'm cleaning these sheets all by myself.

Afterwards is best. You get up to get dressed - I think your pants are by the door. I think tomorrow we might be sore.

Even in this light, your tits look white against the tanning, and I know we're a couple now 'cause we went down the Family Planning.
It hit me in the waiting room waiting for you when you were getting what you need.
But I can't help be a bit disappointed when you start to bleed.

Afterwards is best. You get up to get dressed - I think your pants are by the door. I think we might be sore.


. . .


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