Back at the house a bottle is found
and opened in honour of those who have drowned
While we who have not are stricken with guilt
and dutifully see that not one drop is spilt
We're drinking to life, we'
I wanna chill, I wanna sit real still
I wanna sleep like the dead on a bed of roses
Me and my lovely wife
We're in the prime of life
I wanna feel real, I wanna free-wheel
I wanna steal the show f
Postcards and letters
T-shirts and sweaters
Passports and Parkas
Mobiles and chargers
Two tennis rackets
Blue Rizla packets
A new sheep-skin jacket
I lost it all
All through my life there ha
Living isn't easy
No need to make it harder
Stretch yourself until you snap
Ditch your superstitions
Lose your inhibitions
Tell them you're not coming back
If you want it, you can have it
If y
Monday
Restate my assumptions
Heaven and hell
Do not exist
Tuesday
Restate my assumptions
If you die you do so
At your own risk
Into the heart of darkness
Beyond the point of no return
Wed
Old worlds seen through new eyes
Just you and I and the sheltering sky
The battle is over but the war's not yet won
It's only just begun
We'll walk the razor's edge
The highest ledge of the world
Ten
Apes turn into men
and grapes turn into wine
How we made it to nine
I'll never know
Eight
Man looks for a mate
but fate plays cruel tricks
And seven turns to six
still he's alone
Along comes
Beat stress and rebalance your life
Make those dreams come true
Impress all your colleagues and friends
With the brand new you
So many lives condemned for no need
'Cause people don't buy the right
Sing a happy song
'Cause Spring does not last long
A flower blooms and then it's gone
Summer follows fast
Make hay while it lasts
Don't ever dwell upon the past
For one day you are here, and the ne
I met a girl, she was a frog princess
I guess I ought to make it clear
That I saw nothing through her see-through dress
Until she whispered in my ear
You don't really love me and I don't really mind
The Divine Comedy's Casanova—a collection
of songs for bass baritone and ensemble, inspired
by the writings of the eighteenth century Venetian
gambler, eroticist and spy; and performed for us
there
There's not enough hours in the day
To say all that I want to say
There's not enough days in the week
And weeks go by quicker than drunks knock back
liquor
There's not enough weeks in the month
T
