I just wanted to be one of The Strokes,
Now look at the mess you made me make.
Hitchhiking with a monogrammed suitcase
Miles away from any
half-useful imaginary highway.
I’m a big name in deep space,
Ask your mates
But golden boy’s in bad shape.
I found out the hard way
that here ain’t no place for dolls like you and me,
Everybody’s on a barge
floating down the endless stream of great TV.
1984 2019.
Maybe I was a little too wild in the 70s,
Rocket-ship grease down the cracks of my knuckles.
Karate bandana.
Warp speed chic.
Hair down to there.
Impressive moustache.
Love came in a bottle with a twist off cap,
Let’s all have a swig and do a hot lap.
So who you gonna call?
The martini police.
Baby that isn’t how they look tonight,
It took the light forever to get to your eyes.
I just wanted to be one of those ghosts
You thought that you could forget
And then I haunt you via the rear view mirror
on a long drive from the back seat.
But it’s alright because you love me and you recognise
that it’s ain’t how it should be,
Your eyes are heavy and the weather’s getting ugly,
So pull over, I know the place.
Don’t you know an apparition
is a cheap date,
What exactly is it you’ve been drinking these days?
Jukebox in the corner,
Long hot summer.
They’ve got a film up on the wall
and it’s dark enough to dance.
What do you mean you’ve never seen Blade Runner?
Maybe I was a little too wild in the 70s.
Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer.
Elevator down to my make believe residency
from the honeymoon suite.
Two shows a day four nights a week,
Easy money.
So who you gonna call?
The martini police.
Baby that isn’t how they look tonight,
It took the light absolutely forever
to get to your eyes.
And as we gaze skyward, ain’t it dark early?
It’s the star treatment.