about
Alas, Archie Gemmill....I remember him, Horatio
lyrics
Two-nil down at the half-time whistle
in a match more important than Partick Thistle
v. Heart of Midlothian. "You've got to move quicker",
says the coach, but I take a short shot of liquor
and suck on a lemon and take a quick piss. I'll
try harder from now,
but my hairline's receding
and my waist's getting thicker.
Here we go ! Here we go !
Treading down the primrose path
to extra time or an early bath.
Since no man has aught of what he leaves,
what is it to leave betimes ? Let be.
They say it's a game comprising two halves:
three score years and ten should be good for a laugh.
Two score less five years we've got left to play,
but the sun's in my eyes no matter which way
I run down the wing on that well-trodden path;
dazzled by trophies and medals
league tables and cups
that are worth sweet F.A.
Alas, Archie Gemmill, I remember him: crowned
the hero of Derby at the Baseball Ground.
Balding of head and knobbly of knee.
Characteristics reminiscent of me.
Since no man has aught of what he leaves,
what is it to leave betimes ? Let be.
Two score years less five and the game is resuming;
my passion to win has become all-consuming,
but my chances grow slimmer and my slackening pace
suggests I'll be lucky to make second place.
It begins to be clear, when the last blast is looming,
that winning means nothing
what gives death its savour
is losing with grace.
The last minutes remain, but the public departs.
After all, who wants to watch decrepit old farts
chase inflated pigs' bladders round four corners of earth ?
Where your gambols, your songs, your chants of great mirth ?
Your Mexican Waves, your souls and your hearts ?
Gone from this darkened vale
to find a new crew
to seek out fresh turf.
Waiting for the whistle. Waiting for.... God,
oh, I know not, ....extra time ? penalty shots ?
This former star player of infinite jest,
of excellent fancy, of fortune so blest,
is dead and turned to clay, to turf, to sod.
In a bubblegum-card album,
with Hurst and Toshack
and Jardine and Best.
If it be now, 'tis not to come.
If it be not to come, it will be now.
If it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all.
Since no man has aught of what he leaves,
what is it to leave betimes ? Let be.
credits
from
Sedition,
released September 22, 2016
Music and lyrics © David Banks 1997
Jenny Banks provides cajon and backing vocals
ISRC: UK-DVB-16-00021
license
all rights reserved