The Three Johns

No Place

The Three Johns


This is from the soles of our shoes
Come life your glasses and drink a toast
To king Kreosote
We shave with glasses
On and off as the lightning flashes
In the twitch of levers and the vaults of factories
Gobbled up with iron, without iron,
Without communism



This is no place for you
Shut up here like a bear in a cage
It’s not for you
And the night had a thousand eyes
See them crying on your shoulder



You’ve got to get yourself right out of this place
And the night had a thousand eyes
See them heavy on your shoulder
117 days it’s not for you



For all those living under the flag of Saatchi and Saatchi – The monuments of Marble Archie
How dare you read of awards of St. Georgie?
From the newspaper columns your blinkeys oily
Hear the sten gun splutter
You’re a dog burning in the gutter
Closed your shutter
Touché, olé, balihai

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