(Rupert Webb)

This song is about stress and mental illness, maybe schizophrenia. There is certainly paranoia and fear in the lyrics, but it is mixed with confusion and a list of bizarre happenings. The subject just wants some calm, but they are too busy rationalising their existence to their alter ego. The landlord in question might be another personality in the same mind, but it’s deliberately obscure. The Landlord could easily be changed to a she and refer to the subject as “girl”, not “son” for a female singer. The Queen could be lunching with almost anyone with a three syllable name. I wrote it as Clint Eastwood originally.

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I don’t need another weekend funeral As time goes forwards it just gets too long My body feels all scattered and it’s so unusual Everybody’s coming on so strong I can’t take another psychedelic daydream The last couple were a little grim I’m running back and forth down the rows of bodies But at least the chrysanthemums are settling in I’m going crazy cos I need you, when I moved in with my landlord He said, “son don’t you worry, it’ll all be fine.” Well he doesn’t know you and he’ll soon be sorry I just hope my psychiatrist can find the time I’ve been existing on my nervous energy The goldfish and the hamster need to make a stand The acid in my dinner makes me feel like Walt Disney Now Arial’s the singer in my alt rock band I need a mortgage and a family, XXXXXXX XXXX XX XXXXXXXXXX XX XXXX XX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXX XX XXXXXXXX XX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXX XXXXXX XXX XX XXXXXXX XXX XXXXXX XXXXX XX XXXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXX X XXXX XXXX XXXX X XXXXX XX XXXX XX XXXXXXXX XX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX XXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX XXX XX XXXXXXXX XXXX XX XXXXXXXXX XXXX XXX XXX XXXXXXX XXXX XX XXXXX X XXXX XXXX XX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXX XXXX XXX XXXX

© Rupert Webb 2019

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