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I dreamt the film of my life as directed by Joseph Losey. |
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It was eight minutes long, and cast as me was Parker Posey. |
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It had a limited run in the small hours on Channel Four. |
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And all of my scenes ended up on the cutting room floor. |
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Because from Stockholm to Bolton they're coming to Soho in droves. |
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For a sniff of some "face" whose skin barely touches his clothes. |
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There's little more to your name but a cool, sharp, three-button pose. |
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Ordering drinks with a flick of your famed button nose. |
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I'm bereft, I don't have a single secret left. |
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You traded them for every friendship's death, |
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Of which you're a millionaire. |
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If truth be told, I only wanted something for my cold. |
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I blame the lure of the laissez-faire |
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That you're the millionaire of your own hair. |
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I left my last social circle and I hid for a while. |
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I worked in an undertaker's so I wouldn't have to smile. |
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There's five weeks' worth of homework nestling under your bed. |
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While between the sheets skulks a grateful deputy head. |
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After Double French you silently slip your moorings. |
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And kill an hour or two in town defacing catalogues of vinyl flooring. |
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You're swearing in received pronunciation to impress a cute librairian. |
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And exchanging hooded glances with the townies and the precinct barbarians. |
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I'm bereft, I don't have a single secret left. |
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You traded them for stakes in crystal meth, |
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So you're a millionaire. |
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If truth be told, I only came for something for my cold. |
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I blame the lure of the laissez-faire |
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That you're the millionaire of your own hair. |
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There is an ancient journalist and he stoppeth one in three. |
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And he's asking me if I equate dressing badly with insincerity. |
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He's writing a book called "How To Tell Taxi Drivers They're Wrong." |
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And he doesn't trust people, but he knows his all-time favouite song. |
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Now the millionaire is busy pulling single dads on underground trains. |
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And he's blanking the old hack with characteristic haughty disdain. |
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Today he's fitting in a louche professor of Drama and Mime. |
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He says "I'd love to be lonely but I can't seem to find the time" |
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I'm bereft, I don't have a single secret left. |
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You traded them for stakes in crystal meth, |
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So you're a millionaire. |
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If truth be told, I only came for something for my cold. |
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You're telling the newspaper questionnaires |
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That you're the millionaire. |
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Yes, you're the millionaire of your own hair. |
