M To M.T.

To M.T. from Krakow (23/11/90)

Refrain: (as many times as is comfortable)

Absent when she came and
absent when she went
God be praised that
at last the bitch has gone

Sitting in a cafe on a hot bright morning
hearing the sound of the radio set
how was I to know that her voice was a warning
thinking that the buggers deserve what they get.

Lying on the roof while the moonbeams cooled us
fucking through the night to the sound of the Nile
how was I to know that her voice had fooled us
thinking that the sods deserved such bile.

Freezing in the souk with the air-conditioned traders
drinking by the pool the foul home-brew
I began to see that her voice had made us
(whatever it said) want to spew.

Sweating in the garden while the parrots passed over us
watching when you came from that far-off land
now I could hear that her voice was ominous
not just for you but everyone to hand.

Pissing in the wind while the earth grew harder
working at a job that steadily grew grey
finally we knew that we had to discard her
send her to hell whatever the way.

absent when she came
absent when she went
God be praised that
at last the bitch has gone.