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Little Comets
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The Man Who Wrote Thriller
Picture the instant
When it dawns in your mind
That the things that you wanted
Were never so kind
How will you react
To this seminal moment?
To be down like a soldier
Left to pick all the fights
So many nights,
When I'm wound up so tight
I just cling to the thoughts
That the man who wrote thriller
Lives in Scarborough
With his dog,
Getting on with his life
There's hope in my bones
While the man who wrote thriller
Lives in Scarborough
Those several moments
That threaten to define your life completely
He devours like chips
From a cheap foam cup on a beach in Whitby
If I ever get majestical
And grow perfunctory eyes
Just wind in my neck
And hope that I will be wise.
So many nights,
When I'm wound up so tight
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I just cling to the thoughts
That the man who wrote thriller
Lives in Scarborough
With his dog,
Getting on with his life
My emotions will not tire
While the man who wrote thriller
Lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
So many nights,
When I'm wound up so tight
I just cling to the thoughts
That the man who wrote thriller
Lives in Scarborough
With his dog,
Getting on with his life
There's hope in my bones
While the man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
So daft that I nearly reacted to
The people with the manifold action
Who don't see life as a body of water
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
The man who wrote thriller lives in Scarborough
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