ON THE OUTSKIRTS AGAIN
©Trev Teasdel, Coventry March 1969


I’ve travelled down the country far
I was a motor car.
Rushing speeding, my oil was bleeding
My tyres had worn away.
Arriving at the shipping docks
I found I had no socks.
I looked around to see the time
but they hadn’t any clocks.


I spied upon a young female
Who looked at me so tenderly
I felt so cold and frail.
She offered me a cup of tea
Then wouldn’t let me be.
I gave her all I had to give
Just so that I could live.


I crept upon a sailing ship
For to get my kip.
We sailed away, along the sea
Just where alone i could be.
The sea was calm, i did no harm
I was happy to be free.


Ten hours later, an alligator
rushed upon the deck
I couldn’t fight, I was a sight
A trembling nervous wreck.
Through narrow pipes of food hole types
I flowed unwillingly.


Into a vast and gloomy room
I felt so all alone.
I looked around, up and down
but couldn’t find a phone.
I prayed aloud, within my shroud
This shouldn’t be allowed.


Through narrow pipes of food hole types
I sailed like a kite
There upon, I saw a tongue
I knew I wasn’t wrong.
Pass alerted teeth I fell
like the arrows of William Tell.


Upon the land I saw a hand
pointing to a band
Who learned to play the song the way
it was really meant to be.


I’m on the outskirts again.
I’m on the outskirts again.