Ian Dury - Books And Water / Ian's Poem lyrics

On your nineteenth bump you got the rising hump As the fruity squalls about to soil your smalls So take a flying jump at the stirrup pump Or the Priory walls will have your cobbler's alls You'll never light the lamp when your match is damp And it's the sea green snot that really hits the spot You put the rubber stamp on your stomach cramp And what has time forgot is better not or what? Books and water Bricks and mortar Books and water You can do what you like on a Saturday night But you ain't coming home if you feel alright You take a sherbet dab 'til the next rehab Tie the nuptial knot of never will ain't got And under every slab there's even more kebab Whereby you lose the plot about the truth, so what? And when they stop the clock upon the disused stock The only common ground is at the lost and found And with your arse in hock say thanks a lot old co*k For only fourteen pound I'm Alabamy bound Books and water Pigs and Slaughter Books and water Take a pipe on this and run like hell If you ain't seen nothing like a ne'er do well On your nineteenth bump you got the rising hump You play the bing-bang stakes whatever else it takes So do a flying jump at the stirrup pump As Zaroathustra spake thus are the breaks You'll never light the lamp when your match is damp And it's the sea green snot that really hits the spot You put the rubber stamp on your stomach cramp And what has time forgot is better not, or what? Books and water Bricks and mortar Books and water You can do what you like on a Saturday night But you ain't coming home if you feel alright Books and water Pigs and Slaughter Books and water Take a pipe on this and run like hell If you ain't seen nothing like a ne'er do well... well well well well well Books and water Books and water [Ian's Poem written and read by Jock Scott] I put all my eggs in one basket The basket that you gave to me One was called 'Hope' One was called 'Truth' Another called 'Peace' That makes three Now a moth circles around a bare light bulb Oddly reminding me of Francis Bacon And then I wonder just where you are And what connections you're making Yes, such a swift departure, You left me clutching at a half-pint of lager I looked up and you were gone Leaving the Blockheads and all your mates On the stage to carry on The next generation Bring 'em on, bring 'em on, bring 'em on So I'm left with the eggs and the bacon And you could be oceans away But if, when I yell Outside the Gates of Hell You appear with a smile and a swagger Maybe we can sit down in the Devil's Arms And order a fresh pint of lager