Intro: The Polaroid Suitcase

In music and in fashion
I express myself as a member of a higher species
I no longer have any trouble walking or speaking
I am on my way toward flying into the charts
My hand gestures express power and nobility
People are starting to call me a sex god
Supernatural sounds emanate from my synthesiser
I walk about in ecstasy
Not like the drug, cos I don't do drugs no more
But like the gods I saw dancing on Top of the Pops

I am no longer human
I have become Gary Le Strange


Ballerina

Ballerina, Ballerina
See him dance across the stage
Dressed in silk as white as milk
A hero from a bygone age

Ballerina, Ballerina
See him prancing in his tights
Pirouetting in the mist
Just like some old heraldic knight

Look at him go, he's a special treat
Dancing around on his blessed feet
He's really cool, make no mistake
And he's really amazing in Swan Lake
Lake

Ballerina, Ballerina
Look at you with all your mates
All the girls think you're a hunk
And everybody says you're great

Ballerina, Ballerina
I wonder what you eat for tea
I bet it's something posh like duck and chips
Or chilli con carne

Look at him dance on the battlefield
Mincing about with a sword and shield
Look at him whirl, look at him spin
With his bouffant hair and his silver chin

You're really funny
You've got lots of money
You move like a train on a river of chrome
And you go "Whoa Whoa Whoa"

Ballerina, Ballerina
Now you have to catch the plane
Fly off back to Russia
Or wherever you come from again

Ballerina, Ballerina
Blasting off into the sky
What a shame, I'm so upset
I shake my angry fists and cry

Oh, Ballerina
Bye Bye


I'm Japanese

Well, I'm a stranger in a weird, foreign land
I just stepped off the Central Line
I've only got a thousand yen in my hand
That's only £5.29

Please mister, won't you help me out
I cannot find my way about
Give us a quid to buy some rice and stuff

Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Can you direct me to the station, please?
Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, what are these?

Back in Japan I've got a bamboo bungalow
I cook my noodles in a wok
My flag is red with stars of wonderful yellow
Oh no, that's China, I forgot

Bad men say I pronounce an "R"
Like it's an "L" and vice versa
But that's just lacist and lidicurous

Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
You say I'm not and I will flick the V's
Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Shogun, Pokemon, Hiroshima, konichiwa

Red circle on a big white cloth
Godzilla fights the giant moth
Kimonoed geishas do a dance
Fat blokes fight in their underpants
I love the gleaming cities
Cartoon kiddies with big titties
Why won't you accept I'm from Tokyo?
It makes me broody angly

Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
I eat raw fish and I'm allergic to cheese
Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Hentai, Shoganai, Samurai, Banzai

Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Even though I'm blonde and I'm as tall as John Cleese
Oh-oh, I'm Japanese
Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, what are these?


Sex Dummy

I saw you in a shop front yesterday
And I had to take you home
With your plastic arms and your shiny face
Hey man, you're looking cool

I dressed you up in silk and lace
And a pirate's hat and cape
Then we went down town
And danced the night away

People say you're just a fantasy
But they don't know how much you mean to me
People are cruel
And they call me a fool
But they don't understand
Sex dummy

I took you down to a disco bar
And they all thought I was weird
When we sat in the café drinking wine
They said I was a spacker

It's getting hard and I can't go on
Why won't they accept us?
I've got a good mind to blow them all away

People say you're a monstrosity
And everyone I meet is scared of me
They say I'm mad
But they're wrong and they're bad
They are all just jealous
Sex dummy

I took you round the back of the supermarket
Over by the disused factories and the high-rise tower blocks
Beneath the concrete underpass
You looked beautiful in the moonlight
Your plastic skin shining
Under your bright leather studded cowboy pants
I told you I loved you
And we made love in the car park
One last time up against the wall
Then I threw you on the skip like a load of old rubbish
I won't forget you, sex dummy

Then I sprayed myself in plastic
Now I really look fantastic
You may be gone
But I'll still carry on
Now I'm just like you
Sex dummy

Prince Charles

Cinderella, Cinderella
Don't you ever listen to your sisters
Cinderella, Cinderella
They're only ugly men in silly dresses

Cinderella, Cinderella
Always remember that you are an Indian
Cinderella, Cinderella
When you grow up, you're probably going to marry

Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah
Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah

Cinderella, Cinderella
Driving to the wedding in a pumpkin
Dressed in leather and peacock feathers
Fancy tights and multi-coloured sequins

Cinderella, Cinderella
Always remember the part of you that's cowboy
Don't you dither or reconsider
Get up the aisle or you're never going to marry

Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah
Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah

Don't you worry, you poor little Indian
Suffering in the sand
You sold your lands to the white invader
But at least you looked good

Cinderella, Cinderella
Changes her mind and runs from the cathedral
Drives away in the royal pumpkin
And crashes it in an underpass in Paris

Cinderella, you are dead, but
You'll be remembered by everyone forever
Not because you're good or clever
But because you very nearly married

Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah
Prince Charles
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah

Indian, you're Indian
You're Indian with a little bit of cowboy
Indian, you're Indian
You're Indian with a little bit of cowboy
 

Is My Toaster Sentient?

Sitting in a gas mask waiting for World War 3125 Million
Sitting in the park with a friend called Doctor Six
Oh look, there's JG Ballard in a burnt out fridge with a Spitfire pilot
Took so much smack, I nearly married a car

Back in my bedsit, there's nothing to see
Just four grey walls and me and a TV
And faded photographs of Nazi stormtroopers in PVC

Is my toaster sentient?
If not, then how does it know how not to burn the toast?
Is my toaster sentient?
'Cause when mine broke down, I could swear I heard it crying

I don't know why
What do you think?
Maybe you'd cry if you couldn't make toast

Standing on the staircase in a black rubber top and a long, grey trenchcoat
Pink neon light bulb swinging over my head
I am not a Romo or a New Romantic, I'm a Cyborg rapist
I'm made of gas and wires and electric tubes and tarmac

Is my toaster sentient?
If not, then why did he give Mr Kettle a kiss?
Is my toaster sentient?
He likes silent films and his girlfriend's name is Chronos

Oh, what's going on in this messed up world?
There are loads of things I don't understand
Like, what is love?
What's the difference between boys and girls?
What's that penis between my legs for?
If I plug it in the wall, will it light up?
Or will I die?

Is my toaster sentient?
Is my blender mad? Is my telephone autistic?
Is my car a genius?
Is my bin a twat? Is my oven epileptic?

Is my Dad a photograph?
Is my Mum a spy? Is my grandad made of circuits?
Is my face an alien?
Is my arse a film? Are my elbows electronic?

Do you wanna come back to my place?
We can look at my secret mucky Polaroids
Just please don't tell my Mum


 

Geometry

I was standing in my bedroom
Thinking about triangles
So I got out my ruler
And I drew one on some cardboard - it really looked amazing

I showed it to my Mother
And she just stared at me blankly
She didn't understand it
So she sent me down the shop to buy a pack of twenty Regal

Architects and flowers
Use the same mathematic powers
There's elegance and poetry
In the beauty of geometry

I wrote a letter to Lego
Expressing my disappointment
That they don't do dodecahedrons
But nobody wrote back to me and I was really very angry

I went down to their office
Stood outside it with a placard
Saying "Make dodecahedrons"
Then a big bloke in a suit came out and pushed me down a banking

Pythagoras and Euclid
Don't underestimate what they did
Imagine the futility
Of a world without geometry

Every Friday night, I go down town
With a hexagon hat and equations in my fist
Visions of isosceles in my head
I tell everyone in the pub
Oh, why won't they understand
That the power of shapes can transform our lives
We are all equilateral in the eyes of God
But some are more equilateral than others

But triangles and polygons
Pi R times the square root of R squared
Plus H squared
Alpha over Theta equals

Omega to the power of Ulysees divided by three
That's the wonderful, exciting, sexy world of geometry



Individuals

Dancing in a nightclub
Waiting for the bomb to come
I hope I look good when I die
Hope my make-up doesn't run

Individuals!

See the businessmen marching in line
Marching in line like clockwork clowns
Marching in line like a load of robots
Going "Click whiz bang"

Individuals!

We're moving
We're moving
We're moving on the floor
We're moving
We're moving
We're moving like boys
We're moving
We're moving
We're moving to the drum
We're moving
We're moving
To the dance beat

Individuals!

See the businessmen come in the club
Trying to kill us with their desks and phones
See the proud warrior running down the high street
With a stapler through his skull

Individuals!

Get your hair cut, get a pension plan
Wear a grey suit and a tie, look like a man



Grey

Waiting for a 1930's train
On a suitcase in the rain
I fade to the distance and fade back again

Leaning in a darkened underpass
With a robot made of glass
In a pinstripe suit, a Pierrot hat and a David Niven tash

Purple and green, they're too seventies for me
Yellow and red - well, I just wouldn't be seen dead
The only colour that's any cop is grey

Sitting in a Rolls Royce by the wharf
With my chauffeur, he's a dwarf
He looked at me with his cold, grey eyes and said
"Gary - get those multi-coloured clothes off."

Black and white - well, they're just not right
The former too dark and the latter too light
The only colour that's any cop is grey

The only things I like are grey
Androids, answer phones and Polaroids of clay
Old ladies in a French café
Whose hair is grey

The only things I like are grey
Volcanic corpses in the ruins of Pompeii
Great concrete slabs in Haringey
All painted grey

I only like grey
Well, I suppose silver's OK
But that's still grey
In a shiny sort of way

Hey
I like grey
Grey
Grey



Grey (coda)
(live version only)

Grey
Take me away
To a beautiful land where just everything is all grey
What can I say?
I'll always believe in the colour of glory

Grey
The colour of love
Like the moon and the stars and the sun up above
Like industrial slag
Like a soldier's bag
I'll always believe in the colour of heroes

Oh, grey, I love you
Grey

 

Lyrics by Waen Shepherd 2002-2003
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