Print

The chemist's shop on Regent StreetIt bustles through the nightBy candlelight, a power strikeNo London swing in sightMonkeys to quell'til division bellGood evening, Mr Hardin, sirYou speak well on TVAnd you sing, I heardHe says, I aim to serveAs, sweating hard, he fleesColony RoomsMatchbook and spoonWipe the tape and burn the filmDouse the lights as I come inSays the rumpled statesman, Tim Hardin MPAnd pour my friends a jug of punchI will only ask you onceWhen you speak my name, please do so anxiously"Mosley's sick of Downing Street"SongtexteBing Spear smoothes his oiled hair'mid Whitehall oak, "and Gow has hopes for this housewife millionaire""Like the cigar?They'll bring round the car"So off to Padstow they do rideWith some boys from Fulham nickThey bring supplies which materializeWhen Long Tall Timmy's sickTorchlight paradeSuch speeches he gaveWipe the tape and burn the filmDouse the lights as I come inSays the rumpled statesman, Tim Hardin MPGreenwich Village was my patchBut now my toubadour days are passedNow it's Cornish verse and monarchy for meWho's got the love, got the love, got the love?Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?NobodyNobody's got any loveWho's got the love, got the love, got the love?Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?It's 1970, or 1980Remind me, remind meTo dieAt Northolt airfield, one red dawnA stone-faced group is seenThey wave goodbye to some handcuffed guyWho boards a plane painted greenThere's Alex TrocchiAnd there's Airey NeaveSW1 for early brunch on Jimmy Goldsmith's tabWe saw him off, us crooks and toffsYou have to want it badHolloway screws sayGirl-girl at 2Scrub the spoons and burn the houseLight the streets as I fade outSays the retired statesman Tim Hardin MPI will love you from afarFrom the floor of some Long Beach barIf you speak my name, send a tape to my family Aus Songtexte Mania