Momus - The Labourer lyrics
[Momus - The Labourer lyrics]
I've come down from Barnsley to
Hampstead for the day
Just to see if Father and Mother are okay
Mother in her apron and Father in his vest
Dressed just like they were the
Very day I left
Father is sarcastic, he sniffs about my suit
Mother asks how work's going
Is the mining good?
Tungsten carbon drill heads really
Cut the rock
"Tungsten carbon drills?" says Dad
"That's bloody fancy talk!"
Mother says it's stress
Father's having a hard day
Tomorrow the National Theatre's premiering
His new play but when I say "Oh
That's good!" Father flies into a fit
"Good?" he pouts
"That's good? What do you know about it?"
"What do you know about having to
Drag yourself up at 5 o'clock
To fly to Paris for TV and
Press interviews then hurry back
To the Old Vic at 12 for drinks
Then having to write three acts
About a gay nymphomaniac
Drug-addict who murders
A Scottish footballer with an axe?"
"There's more to life than culture
Father there is sweat
Coal-mining is wonderful
Though you'll never understand it
Look what you've done to Mother
She's worn her hands to the bone
Attending premieres and meeting film-stars
And giving gala luncheons!"
"There's nowt wrong with gala luncheons
Son!" my father shrieks
Then clutches at his wrist and
Sinks to his knees
Mother says it's writer's cramp
I'd better be away
But Father says "Hang on, Mother
Here's the germ of a play!"
Hampstead for the day
Just to see if Father and Mother are okay
Mother in her apron and Father in his vest
Dressed just like they were the
Very day I left
Father is sarcastic, he sniffs about my suit
Mother asks how work's going
Is the mining good?
Tungsten carbon drill heads really
Cut the rock
"Tungsten carbon drills?" says Dad
"That's bloody fancy talk!"
Mother says it's stress
Father's having a hard day
Tomorrow the National Theatre's premiering
His new play but when I say "Oh
That's good!" Father flies into a fit
"Good?" he pouts
"That's good? What do you know about it?"
"What do you know about having to
Drag yourself up at 5 o'clock
To fly to Paris for TV and
Press interviews then hurry back
To the Old Vic at 12 for drinks
Then having to write three acts
About a gay nymphomaniac
Drug-addict who murders
A Scottish footballer with an axe?"
"There's more to life than culture
Father there is sweat
Coal-mining is wonderful
Though you'll never understand it
Look what you've done to Mother
She's worn her hands to the bone
Attending premieres and meeting film-stars
And giving gala luncheons!"
"There's nowt wrong with gala luncheons
Son!" my father shrieks
Then clutches at his wrist and
Sinks to his knees
Mother says it's writer's cramp
I'd better be away
But Father says "Hang on, Mother
Here's the germ of a play!"