Only Pop Music Can Save Us Now!

Is It Over Yet?
Is It Over Yet?
(I. Roure)

It starts when you first wake up
And on the radio;
The sound of mad elephants
Charging the latest foe,
And on, and on they go.

Shake me and reassure me
These aren’t the dark days that I dread.
If we can’t wake up from this dream, where will it end?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
Is it over yet?

They say you’d better watch out,
Evil is poised to strike
Cruise missiles would protect us,
But first let’s pick the fight
With an accusing slight

I feel the world slipping away from me
I raise my hand but no one calls on me
Mad elephants stampeding, doing just what they’re pleasing
Don’t look at me - I didn’t say they could do any of those things!

Centraal Station
(I.Roure)

Wish you were here - but I am certain I’m glad I’m not there
Walking around the city suffering another color-coded scare
Scarlet alert on Wednesday
Bad case of jitters going ‘round
And you’re coming down

Pick me up at Centraal Station
Pick me up at Centraal Station
Find a cause for celebration
At Centraal Station
In with the old, the New World’s going through an awkward phase.
In with the old, this “backward-child-ocracy” is having it’s day
Amber alert on Tuesday,
Bad case of jitters going ‘round
And you’re coming down

Give my regards to New Amsterdam and those who must spend the time
Following the misery leaders while others have arrived
At Centraal Station…

Purple alert on Sunday

Ultra Zero
(I Roure)

These days it’s all fuzzy math. Whole numbers don’t go
Rapacious calculations left us with Ultra Zero

Ultra Zero – don’t add up
Ultra Zero – push his luck
Ultra Zero – force it so
Ultra Zero – won’t let go
Oh – oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He number one in the fights, divide by conquering
Multiply pre-emptive strike to the power of ultra zero

Oh, oh, oh, making millions
Algebra lite but hard hitting
Tries it on with the minions
Hopes they’ll take the hitting for him
Hitting for him
Hitting for him.
Oy, Oy, Oy, Oy, Oy, Oy!

Cure My Life
(I. Roure)

Well, I try not to worry and bathe my wounds in special bitter
But they’re just getting worse.
Another pint, another short and I think I might be better
But then again that’s the curse!
In this age of mass destruction it’s hard to know what’ll get to you first
If it ain’t some mad politician it might just be my terrible thirst.

Got through another day to the weekend and the rollers
And we’re still rolling in place
Set ‘em up don’t set me straight
Here’s the cricketers and the sailor
Trying to get away

‘Twas an epic urban party and the Visigoths were scaling the walls
And crashing the gates.
Amid the Abba and Martini they were learning to crawl and making intimate mates.
There she stood by the kitchen door with a g & t and a Malboro light
Later on when she asked for more I said: “I don’t mind but my girlfriend might…”

Back in the cube I’ve had a few with lunch this afternoon.
My dick-head boss she growls and scowls as usual…

Well, I try to be happy, be a good boy, watch the telly at night,
But I’m off like a shot.
Leave the sproggets in the high chair with the party-girl wife,
Bless their cotton socks
And I sit in my home from home – no hope, no anchor, on my third pint
Somewhere there’s a miracle girl, gonna heal my wounds and Cure My Life!
 

Acoustic Kitty
(I Roure)

You found every tap, you sealed every leak
When you made contact you were so discrete
Whispered words were for your ears only,
The secret plans that never left the room…
I heard about that from acoustic cat
Acoustic cat, acoustic cat

Acoustic kitty
And electric too
Acoustic kitty
There ain’t much that gets past you

Sleeping on the rug at the envoy’s suite,
Looks so innocent at your feet
Transmission sent with a swish of the tail
The plot, the rouse, the words of deceit
I got all that from acoustic cat
Acoustic cat, acoustic cat

Well, you thought the testin’ was complete
And you set kitty to cross the street
Never mind the cruel surgery
Trial by five o’clock speeding taxi –
That was that for acoustic cat
Acoustic cat, acoustic cat…