Golden Syrup

Even now, even all these years on

I can still taste golden syrup on my tongue

The woozy lights of the bridges

On the water, the broken images

Of broken people wandering through sleep

And you know I hated it, I hated that job at the factory

I hated acting cheerful when the foreman came around

I looked deep in his mouth, it was pitch black

And I can't bring myself to go back

Bread rising in the oven like a ghost

Later to be toast, burning under the grill

Hot apple cider bubbling on the wooden window sill

I am waiting here for someone to take a bite out of my neck

I have become a nervous wreck

And the furniture is made of licorice

Like the little hairs growing on my arm

I can't promise you a good time

I can't promise you a great time

But I doubt you'll come to any harm

Sprinkle sugar over me

I felt like a cold beer in the shade

I didn't feel like watching the parade

I felt like a man not in his rightful time and place

I felt like I wandered into the room too late

And in the ice cream parlour, scooping rum and raisin

I could never get excited about special occasions

But I paid my way, and somehow I am still able to say

I have not murdered anyone

And you remember I enjoyed the anxiety

It went on joylessly, joylessly like the 1990s

But I took a certain comfort in sticking out like a sore thumb

The rivers ran red but nevertheless I felt numb

Sprinkle sugar over me

And the telephone ceaselessly rings

And somewhere someone handsome sings

A song for my specific situation

A song for a man of my station

A song in the key of gee whizz!

You're letters were better than anything I ever read

But there are thoughts that should never be completed making inroads in my head

Like 'only children have to be their own cain

'Only children know my pain'

Sprinkle sugar over me

The ceiling fan will shower us with dust

My tongue is caked with tiger balm

I can't promise you a good time

I can't promise you a great time

But I can offer up a little of my famous charm

And they're smuggling drugs in the dumb waiter

All men fall back on bad ideas sooner or later

In the full heat of summer

The landlord did a runner

I've got nothing to do with last months rent

Sprinkle sugar over me