John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
John Cooper Clarke
An X-film extra's extra
I exit when I'm ex'd
I get it in the neck
I get my check
But i don't get what comes next
I got my break in the 'frisco quake
Clark Gable got the lead
They said 'make like a piece of steak...
Lay on that plate and bleed'
Swine herds and hunch backs
Led to bigger things
I was Pontius Pilate's punch bag
You remember king of king's
Understudy studies scripts
And stunt men dice with doom
You found me in a gothic crypt
Or in some squalid room
Where Clint Eastwood kicks my teeth in
Several times a day
I'm the best dead body in the business
I don't have much to say
Except... aaahhh, ooohhh, ahh, ohh, uhh, ahh, uhhh
And ohh, ahh, nhhh, ahh ohh and thank you lord
What can you say on the end of a sword
You just run out of breath
I carried seven ceasars
Around seven cities of gold
I was the one who didn't whip Jesus
In the greatest story ever told
Fake snakes, mock crocks
And killers cut my throat
That's me in the pine box
I know all about boats
I was on the titanic
I did what was required
And i was the first to panic
On the day the earth caught fire
Hacksaw blades and hand grenades
Dum dum bullets and darts
When pagans raid the stockade
I get mangled by their carts
I fall from trains and torture dames
Just to keep in trim
I get slain on memory lane
And the people say 'oh it's him'
It was in this third rate thriller
I actually got to talk
Saying 'look... the killer gorillas
They're eating up New York'
I ride this phony pony
In a place a bit like the world
In the eyes of adults only
I never get the girl
Tarantulas invade my bed
Ohh it's wonderful
I'm a talking head... full of lead
Blublblublblublblublblub
I scream all the way to the chair
I scream in the face of tanks
I take the stairway to the stairs
And I scream all the way to the banks
Photogenic passion
Impales me on it's knife
Hero's made from fashion
But dying's a job for life