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Nightmare Being

Jazz Butcher


I'm gremlins in your basement I'm the foodchain in your lunch
I give your babies rabies I'm the lead in your champagne
Excuse me, hello. I'm a nightmare being
Now, I know I look like Altamont and smell like Richard Nixon,
But I have to take your money or I'll die of hypothermia.
Oh yes, it's entirely on the cards. Brrrr . . .

Call me beggar, call me wino, call me scumbag, call me names
Call a policeman and an ambulance, I won't be here to meet them.
I'm invisible. Like salmonella.

Turn away and I'll turn ugly, turn self-righteous I'll turn blue,
Turn the corner, turn me on, you know exactly what to do
'Coz all I want is for you to fill this box.

Airforce ranger, I wanna be an airforce ranger
I wanna live a life of danger, I wanna be an airforce ranger

I got educated somehow, I know lots of blends of whisky,
I know Jung and I know Kizzy,
But I don't know where you get your money from . . .
And I'm not sure that I want to.

So piece by piece we lay foundations
Of the stuff we use for language:
It is awkward, it is dirty, but it's all we've got to work with.
By the way, now you're here, won't you fill this box?
With dosh . . . money, that is.

Got all these animals to feed in my house
Send us your money, just send us your money
And we'll take care of the rest.
Yes, we'll take care of the rest.
Just mark your envelope
"J.B.C.--Charity."

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