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  1. Humdrum

From the recording The Players

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Lyrics by Rupert Davis
Dave Dove - Guitar and Vocals
Amy Wakefield - Violin
Duncan Wilcox - Double Bass

Lyrics

They're sweeping the noises off the street
The cars are dancing to the siren beat
Behind the gasworks beneath a lowering sky
The lawnmowers drone and the suburbs sigh

Sunday morning flooding down with rain
Graffiti fug scrawled across my brain
The scarecrow girls with cornflake smiles
Hand in the till and a night on the tiles

And the scaffold and the surgeons hang round the embankment
Where the old canal oozes low and still and stagnant
And the ticker-tape blonde is the new star in the pageant
She thinks she's someone
In the humdrum

The sun rises and bleaches into the room
Saturday kids and diesel perfume
The police cars carve up this hellhole
Past the concrete graves and the begging bowls

And she took a million dollars but in crumpled notes
Fixing up her hair while she's fixing up the votes
She can't separate the warhorse from the scapegoat
She's got to blame someone
In the humdrum

They're sweeping the posters down the gutter
The pneumatic drill snarls and shudders
There's booming profits in neon crosses
So count the cost of cutting your losses

From the queue at check out to the tailback at the lights
To the jam up at the clock shifting left and right
Just another charlatan in their slap happy life
Trying to be someone
In the humdrum