Never for Ever
Album - 8 settembre 1980 - Debaser id 16462

She wanted to test her husband.
She knew exactly what to do:
A pseudonym to fool him.
She couldn't have made a worse move.

She sent him scented letters,
And he received them with a strange delight.
Just like his wife
But how she was before the tears,
And how she was before the years flew by,
And how she was when she was beautiful.
She signed the letter

"All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!"

She wanted to take it further,
So she arranged a place to go,
To see if he
Would fall for her incognito.
And when he laid eyes on her,
He got the feeling they had met before.
Uncanny how she
Reminds him of his little lady,
Capacity to give him all he needs,
Just like his wife before she freezed on him,
Just like his wife when she was beautiful.
He shouted out, "I'm

All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!"

One of the band told me last night
That music is all that he's got in his life.
And where will it go?
Surely not with his soul.
Will all of his licks and his R'n'B

Blow away?
Blow away
Blow away (repeated)

Our engineer had a different idea
From people who nearly died but survived,
Feeling no fear of leaving their bodies here,
And went to a room that was soon full of visitors.

Hello Minnie, Moony, Vicious, Vicious, Buddy Holly, Sandy Denny.

Please don't thump me,
Don't bump me,
Don't dump me back there (repeated twice).
Please don't thump me,
Don't bump me,
I want to stay here.

Put out the light, then, put out the light.
Vibes in the sky invite you to dine.**
Dust to dust,
Blow to blow.
Bolan and Moony are heading the show tonight.

Hello Minnie, Moony, ("Bill " [?]), Vicious, Vicious,
Buddy Holly, Sandy Denny.

Please don't thump me,
Don't bump me,
Don't dump me back there (repeated twice).
Please don't thump me,
Don't bump me,
I want to stay here.

No, I'll never give the hunt up
And I won't muck it up
Somehow this is it, I knew
Maybe fate wants you dead, too
We've come together in the very same room
And I'm coming for you

Do you think I'd ever let you
Get away with it, huh?
He swooned in warm maroon
There's gas in your barrel, and I'm flooded with Doom
You've made a wake of our honeymoon
And I'm coming for you"

"All of the headLines said 'Passion Crime"
'Newly weds Groom Shot Dead
'Mystery Man.' God help the bride
She's a widow, all in red
With his red still wet. She said--"

I'll put him on the wedding list
I'll put him on the wedding list
I'll get him and I will not miss

Now, as I'm coming for you
All I see is Rudi
I die with him, again and again
And I'll feel good in my revenge
I'm gonna fill your head with lead
And I'm coming for you

And when it's all over you'll roll over
The butt of my gun:
One in your belly, and one for Rudi
You got what you gave by the heel of my bootie
Bang-bang--Out! like an old cherootie
I'm coming for you

"All of the headLines said 'Passion Crime:
'Newly weds Groom Shot Dead
'Mystery Man.' God help the bride
She's a widow, all in red
With his red still wet. She said--"

She sure got him on the wedding list
I'll got him on the wedding list
I'll got him and I will not miss
I'll put him on the wedding list

"And after she shot the guy
She committed suicide
I'm coming, Rudi
"And later, when they analysed
They found a little one inside.
"It must have been Rudi's child"
I shot, I shot, I shot him honey
"Never mind, she got the guy"
He hit the ground, Rudi
"An eye for an eye"
Ashes to ashes...
"Eye for an eye"
I hit him, hit him
Rudi!, Rudi
I'm coming coming coming honey
"Eye for an eye"
Rudi

Four strings across the bridge,
Ready to carry me over,
Over the quavers, drunk in the bars,
Out of the realm of the orchestra,
Out of the realm of the orchestra.

Filling me up with the shivers.
Filling me up with the shivers and quivers.
Filling me up with the shivers.

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

Paganini up on the chimney,
Lord of the dance,
With Nero and old Nicky.
Whack that devil
Into my fiddlestick!
Give me the Banshees for B.V.s,*
Give me the Banshees for B.V.s.

Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, Johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-dee.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-diddle-dee-dee!

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! Violin! Violin!

I say good night-night.
I tuck him in tight.
But things are not right.

What is this? An infant kiss
That sends my body tingling?

I've never fallen for
A little boy before.
No control.

Just a kid and just at school.
Back home they'd call me dirty.
His little hand is on my heart.
He's got me where it hurts me.
Knock, knock. Who's there in this baby?
You know how to work me.

All my barriers are going.
It's starting to show.
Let go. Let go.
Let go. Let go. Let go.

I cannot sit and let
Something happen I'll regret.
Ooh, he scares me!

There's a man behind those eyes.
I catch him when I'm bending.

Ooh, how he frightens me
When they whisper privately.

(Poor, stupid girl!)

Windy-wailey blows me.

Words of caress on their lips
That speak of adult love.
I want to smack but I hold back.
I only want to touch.
But I must stay and find a way
To stop before it gets too much!

All my barriers are going.
It's starting to show.
Let go. Let go.

(Don't let go)

Let go. Let go. Let go.

(B.F.P.O)
(Army Dreamers)
(Mammy's hero)
(B.F.P.O)
(Mammy's hero)


Our little army boy
Is coming home from B.F.P.O.
I've a bunch of purple flowers
To decorate a mammy's hero.

Mourning in the aerodrome,
The weather warmer, he is colder.
Four men in uniform
To carry home my little soldier.


"What could he do?
Should have been a rock star."
But he didn't have the money for a guitar.
"What could he do?
Should have been a politician."
But he never had a proper education.
"What could he do?
Should have been a father."
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.


Tears o'er a tin box.
Oh, Jesus Christ, he wasn't to know,
Like a chicken with a fox,
He couldn't win the war with ego.

Give the kid the pick of pips,
And give him all your stripes and ribbons.
Now he's sitting in his hole,
He might as well have buttons and bows.


"What could he do?
Should have been a rock star."
But he didn't have the money for a guitar.
"What could he do?
Should have been a politician."
But he never had a proper education.
"What could he do?
Should have been a father."
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Oh What a waste of
Army dreamers.
Oh What a waste of
Army dreamers.
Army dreamers.
Army dreamers.


Do-de-do-de-do-de-doh.
Yea-de-do de-de-do-do.

(B.F.P.O)

Do-de-do-de-do-de-doh.

(Army Dreamers)

Yea-de-do de-de-do-do.

(Mammy's hero)


Do-de-do-de-do-de-doh.
Yea-de-do de-de-do-do.

(B.F.P.O)

Do-de-do-de-do-de-doh.

(Army Dreamers)

Yea-de-do de-de-do-do.

(Mammy's hero)

(B.F.P.O)
(No hard heros)
(Mammy's hero)
(B.F.P.O)
(Army Dreamers)
(Mammy's hero)
(B.F.P.O)
(No hard heros)

Outside gets inside
Through her skin
I've been out before
but this time it's much safer in
Last night
In the sky
Such a bright light
My radar send me danger
But my instincts tell me to
Keep breathing

Breathing
Breathing my mother in
Breathing my beloved in
Breathing
Breathing her nicotine
Breathing
Breathing the fall
Out - in. out - in, out - in. out - in, out - in

We've lost our chance
We're the first and last
After the blast
Chips of plutonium are twinkling in every lung
I love my beloved
All and everywhere
Only the fools blew it
You and me knew life itself
Is breathing

Breathing
Breathing my mother in
Breathing my beloved in
Breathing
Breathing her nicotine
Breathing
Breathing the fall
Out - in. out - in, out - in. out - in, out - in, out

In point of fact it is possible to tell the
difference between a small nuclear explosion and
a large one by a very simple method. The calling
card of a nuclear bomb is the blinding flash that
is far more dazzling than any light on earth--brighter
even than the sun itself--and it is by the duration
of this flash that we are able to determine the size
(What are we going to do without?)
of the weapon. After the flash a fireball can be
seen to rise, sucking up under it the debris, dust
and living things around the area of the explosion,
and as this ascends, it soon becomes recognisable
as the familiar mushroom cloud. As a demonstration
of the flash duration test let's try and count the
number of seconds for the flash emitted by a very
small bomb; then a more substantial, medium-sized
bomb; and finally, one of our very powerful,
high-yield bombs.

What are we going to do without
Ooh, please, let me breathe
Quick, breathe in deep
Leave us something to breathe
Ooh, life is