It Happened One Day in Scarborough
By agora
IT HAPPENED ONE DAY IN SCARBOROUGHHelicopteroid arguments tizzle around our headsAnd the bacon burns and the grease screams and we ignoreAnd somebody panicking calls the Relationship PoliceAnd they send a SWAT team of sweatered psychologistsAnd they quarantine the house and they interrogate the petsand they storm the house and they tatter the windows with pensAnd we win the fight with projectile obscenitiesAnd they leave, shaking their double-ended headsAnd we lay out a ritual picnic across the buttered lawnAnd we both refuse to eat and the neighbours salivateAnd the children return from bizarre sophisticated schoolsAnd we won’t leave and they won’t stopAnd the eavestrough leaks venomous alphabet soupAnd we say STOP! STOP!SOMEBODY HAS TO MOW THE LAWN!SOMEBODY HAS TO LIGHT THE BLACK CANDLES!SOMEBODY HAS TO BURN THE LAUNDRY!And the kids bugger off and reporters steal our photographsAnd Publisher’s Clearinghouse tells us we owe them millionsAnd the Welcome Wagon takes its brochures and samples backAnd the Ratepayers’ Association excommunicates usAnd it gets deadly dark in the twinkling twilightAnd I say I LOVE THIS HOUSE!And you say I LOVE YOU TOO!And we make exquisite obscene love in front of the answering machineAnd we listen for calls from estranged relativesLiving in kinder gentler neighbourhoods........................................................ Written October 20th, 2001 © on Oct 20 2001 08:21 AM PST 0 • 10
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"IT HAPPENED ONE DAY IN SCARBOROUGHHelicopteroid arguments tizzle around our headsAnd the bacon burns and the grease screams and we ignoreAnd somebody panicking calls the Relationship PoliceAnd they send a SWAT team of sweatered psychologistsAnd they quarantine the house and they interrogate the petsand they storm the house and they tatter the windows with pensAnd we win the fight with projectile obscenitiesAnd they leave, shaking their double-ended headsAnd we lay out a ritual picnic across the buttered lawnAnd we both refuse to eat and the neighbours salivateAnd the children return from bizarre sophisticated schoolsAnd we won’t leave and they won’t stopAnd the eavestrough leaks venomous alphabet soupAnd we say STOP! STOP!SOMEBODY HAS TO MOW THE LAWN!SOMEBODY HAS TO LIGHT THE BLACK CANDLES!SOMEBODY HAS TO BURN THE LAUNDRY!And the kids bugger off and reporters steal our photographsAnd Publisher’s Clearinghouse tells us we owe them millionsAnd the Welcome Wagon takes its brochures and samples backAnd the Ratepayers’ Association excommunicates usAnd it gets deadly dark in the twinkling twilightAnd I say I LOVE THIS HOUSE!And you say I LOVE YOU TOO!And we make exquisite obscene love in front of the answering machineAnd we listen for calls from estranged relativesLiving in kinder gentler neighbourhoods..........................................................."