Testo Midnight Shift - John Cooper Clarke
Testo della canzone Midnight Shift (John Cooper Clarke), tratta dall'album Anthologia
There's a body in the basement
The TV's full of guns
In the room adjacent
Cold water runs
The sound of the cisterns
Sizzling bacon or chips
Footsteps in the distance
She's working on the midnight shift
The room is getting colder
Start jumping Jack
You're the bluebird over her shoulder
The monkey on her back
She left your taxi fare
There's a message in her gift
You got more than she could spare
She's working on the midnight shift
Feedback screams on a twisted riff
Luxembourg by night
The cheapjack dream of the midnight shift
Doesn't work out right
He's got to shoot, he's got to shoot
Put his face about
It's like a long abandoned baseball boot
With the tongue hanging out
The perfume of the essence rare
That lingers in the lift
He's a prince among the peasants
Where she's working on the midnight shift
You're gonna find her stuck in the lift
To the wonderland of vice
You're gonna find her on the midnight shift
With feet like blocks of ice
She carried water for the mailman
She had to walk the streets
She married the door-to-door salesman
Who worked away all week
She lived with an empty chair
Until the final rift
She didn't have a thing to wear
She had to work on the midnight shift
You're gonna find her frozen stiff
You think you've been hurt
You're gonna find her on the midnight shift
Standing in the dirt
You like to put yourself about
Like the main man about town
She needs somebody to help her out
But that's where you keep falling down
Was there ever a thing so fair
That smashed itself to bits
Sometimes you get nowhere
Working on the midnight shift
A million tears gonna tear apart
Eyes that never shut
A million spears gonna pierce your heart
It's the death of a thousand cuts
A million souls all running scared
Or else they only drift
You won't find her anywhere
She's working on the midnight shift
You're gonna find her on the hit list
Of a cheapskate beastly rag
You're gonna find her on the midnight shift
What a fucking drag
You really can't stop now
The visitors arrive
Here come the cops now
Crunching up the drive
Flat foot steps on the stairs
Bad news travels swift
Sometimes you get nowhere
Working on the midnight shift
Credits
Writer(s): John Cooper Clarke, Stephen Hopkins, Martin Hannett
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