Spike
Album - 6 febbraio 1989 - Debaser id 19067

Is it all in that pretty little head of yours?
What goes on in that place in the dark?
Well I used to know a girl
And I could have sworn that
Her name was Veronica
Well she used to have
A carefree mind of her own and
A delicate look in her eye
These days I'm afraid
She's not even sure
If her name is Veronica
CHORUS:
Do you suppose,
That waiting hands on eyes,
Veronica has gone to hide?
And all the time she laughs
At those who shout
Her name and steal her clothes
Veronica
Veronica

Did the days drag by?
Did the favours wane?
Did he roam down the town
All the while?
Will you wake from your dream,
With a wolf at the door,
Reaching out for Veronica
Well it was all of sixty-five years ago
When the world was the street
Where she lived
And a young man sailed on
A ship in the sea
With a picture of Veronica

On the "Empress of India"
And as she closed her eyes
Upon the world and
Picked upon the bones
Of last week's news
She spoke his name out loud again

Repeat chorus

Veronica sits in the favourite chair and
She sits very quiet and still
And they call her a name
That they never get right and
If they don't then nobody else will
But she used to have
A carefree mind of her own,
With devilish look in her eye
Saying "You can call me
Anything you like,
But my name is Veronica"

Repeat chorus

With their cardboard hands by their sides,
here's a naked man and lady
And they're yours to cut out and keep
So you can dress them up maybe
They don't know just who they are, or who they're supposed to be
You can make them happy or sad
Or assume their identity

So here they are in the departure lounge
It's the "Gateway to the East"
She is just another mail-order bride
She doesn't know he's a kinky beast
So he gives her a picture of Maradona and child
She wants to "roll and rock"
As he spills his beer over her, bumps and he
grinds, as he repeats "Bang-Cock"

Chorus:

There must be something that is better than this
It starts with a slap and ends up with a kiss
Begins with you bawling and it ends up in tears
Oh my little one, take that chewing gum out of your ears

She might as well be in the jungle
She might as well be on the moon
He's away on a business trip, in Dusseldorf, but she's becoming immune
To the lack of glamour and danger in a West-German city today
The nearest she comes to the "Dynasty" he promised her
Is a Chinese takeaway

Chorus

Though he only taught her three little words, it
doesn't matter if they're dirty or clean
He can only control what they look like
He can never possess what they mean
Now he wants to whisper in her ear
All the shrinking nothingness
But something always comes between them,
I wonder if you can guess

Chorus

I'm going to make you even fear the dream you dream
So don't even think about it don't make a wish
You think that I don't see you as you trawl those young weak fish
Hooked on those poor wonders, 'til they want you alone
Though they can't tell a cuckoo-clock from the squeals of saxophones
That's when they'll fear my name
Stalin malone

I'm telling you the day will come when this man gets what he merits
Though people still wear animal skins to ward off evil spirits
Only wife-swapping and witchcraft woke the dormitory town
'til horse's heads up in the trees came dripping down
Yes, horse's heads up hung in the trees after the bird had flown
Did you wonder of my whereabouts as the barrack-room was blown
Did anybody call my name?
Stalin malone

In a room called creation, where you all obey my laws
Where seconal is gravity and pain is like applause
You think that this phenomenon is some coincidence
But I've got people everywhere, you're under
My surveillance, in the pocket of my pants


Okay, she left me, but I'll soon get over that
Falling out of the "blood tub" and rolling, on my back
Waking up to the one o'clock gun with a punch and judy bird
Reaching out for a gelignite beer that fills me up with murder
To overhear forbidden songs her lover must have known
Between the pity and advice...
"there's no one here to help you now, but speak after the tone"
Leave for me a message of hope
Stalin malone

Now the church door is a roller-shutter with padlocks and keys
Just like all of the other dispensaries
The saloon is like a casket, stained wood and human dust
Stale with conversation that hangs on your clothes like smoke
The wooden clock said she would dance dressed only in flower
As the jazz band drowns the hysterical bird that it spits out on the hour
I'd drop out of sight and disappear, turn up in another town, but somehow
I just can't seem to put it down, put it down, put it down
I just want to hold her now in that I'm not alone
But do I have to see her fall into his arms before I can atone..
Get my jacket on, get my story straight, I'm leaving on my own

She looked like she learned to dance from a
series of still pictures
She's madly excited now, she throws her hands
up like a tulip
She looks like an illustration of a cocktail party
Where cartoon bubbles burst in the air,
champagne rolls off her tongue
Like a second language
And it should have been her biggest night
The satellite looks down on her as she begins
to cry

All over the world at the very same time people
sharing the same sorrow
As the satellite looks down her darkest hour is
somebody's bright tomorrow

He pulled on a cigarette, in the crook of his
first finger
Felt the static electric charge of her perfect
hour-glass figure
As he undressed her with his eyes her weakness
was his talent
How could she know as she stepped through
the lights, that her dress would become
transparent
And with his face pressed to the screen, he
muttered words he'd never dare to say if she
could see him

All over the world at the very same time
People sharing the same cheap sensation the
thrill of watching somebody watching those
forbidden things we never mention

The satellite looks down right now and forever
What it has pulled apart let no man tether his
own body to his dream,
His dream to someone else
Oh no, oh no.

She went back to a pitiful compromise
He'd go back to his family
But for the matter of a thousand miles that
separated them entirely
In the hot unloving spotlight, with secrets
it arouses
Now they both know what it's like inside a
pornographer's trousers
And in a funny way it's anonymous, the satellite
it blesses us and makes these dreams come
true... All over the world

The satellite looks down right now and forever
What it has pulled apart let no man tether his
own body to his dream,
His dream to someone else
Oh no, oh no.

She's a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life
But when he's full of that beer-champagne
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws

And if he should wake up in some terrible dive
And he don't know if he's so-so
But he's so surprised he's alive
"Come on little honey, let me under your hive"
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws

She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt
He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt
Anything wearing a necklace
He thinks of claws scratching his back he's
going out there he's not coming back

She's got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
'Til he's drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasn't all covered in fur
He's coming home now and here's the surprise
You wouldn't believe the lies that he tries
She cut him down to her favourite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws

She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws