Of little interest to anyone this bit, frankly. But I have been involved in two separate musical projects, both of which showed, as is now traditional, much promise before crunching face-first into the dirt and lying there until vultures picked them dry in the baking sun of time.

What’s that Nicholas, Martin & Dean?
Yes well all right, I suppose 4 projects if you count
1.Deciding to form a pop group with Dean Berry and Martin Athenasiou in September 1982, at the age of 9, when we – like all British children – saw Musical Youth on Blue Peter. One band meeting. We argued if are band name should have the word “Cats” in it (like the Stray Cats) or “4th Dimension” in it so it sounded a bit space-age, futuristic and cool. Sadly “Cats Of The Fourth Dimension” never really got off the ground musically.
2.Almost exactly the same thing happened at secondary school, for about 4 hours, when gangly halfwit Nicholas Bettecini purchased a £65 drum machine, invited me over to his parent’s house one Saturday and we plinky-plonked on his dad’s home organ to the dud-dud-kish, dud-dud-kish of the tinny drumbox before losing interest and sneaking out to the greenhouse for two Silk Cut and a packet of polos.

But seriously folks.



A flimsy, indie guitar combo, made up of:
myself (guitar & vocals)
Neal Doran (guitarist, now IT journalist, sporadic Radio 4 comedy writer and father of 2)
Arnold Meagher (bass and vocals, now solicitor working for Brent Council)
Mark Doran (drummer, Neal’s brother and now I think married with kids but no idea how he supports himself. Probably something to do with computers).
Mark left the band in 1989 to be replaced by Phil Kirwin (drummer and now pretty much, according to his web page and email, in charge of all graphic design in Canada, married with one son).

Our performance was mainly sitting-room based, our songs a subtle and witty combination of The Housemartins, The Beautiful South,. Lou Reed, Morrissey and Frank Sinatra, with occasional flashes of The Smiths if I could work out the guitar parts.

A band formed out of boredom rather than any talent or desire to storm the popular-charts, we did 3 things of note.
1.Recorded – far too hastily – a 10 track demo in 1990 for distribution among friends and family. Copies of said cassette are going for literally no pence on the open market.
2.Had a meeting with, I think, EMI during which Neal and Phil were sent as spokesmen for the band. I had a Saturday job at Selfridges so couldn’t go. A missed opportunity that still rankles. We were told to come back when we were older, which we of course never bloody did.
3.Played one large gig on Monday 7th September at London’s “Subterania” – (£3 on the door) supporting These Animal Men (later to become NME darlings) and FMB (stars of Channel 4’s “The Next Big Thing.” Or rather “Kiss Of Fucking Death” as it should have been called). I remember almost nothing of the gig apart from lots of our friends danced and we were forced into the humiliating position of all small bands, in we had to say “come up the front if you want” to the thin crowd huddled at the back bar.

Anyway, for posterity, I record here some of the songs I spent my teenage years bashing out on a Fender Telecaster in various bedrooms and lounges of North London.





aka Clark Kent (until DC comics politely told me “…DC comics cannot permit your band to call itself Clark Kent. Clark Kent is a world famous trademark of DC comics and a band by that name is likely to cause consumers to believe that the band is sponsored, authorized or endorsed by DC Comics..”)
Tch, spoilsports. Like anyone thinks McFly are endorsed by Robert Zemekis or that New Order were endorsed by the National Socialist Party. Twits.

Anyway, Smallville was a two-piece combo made up of myself and University pal Darren Perry (now acclaimed graphic designer and family man) – an attempt to be to guitar pop what The Pet Shop Boys were to thumping New York Disco tunes. But less gay, obviously. Well, frankly not that obviously, when one examines our publicity shots. Could those white t-shirts be any tighter?

Again, we started out playing bedrooms and sitting rooms of North London – Darren on vocals, me on guitar n harmonies. Essentially a more English version of Barenaked Ladies and Crash Test Dummies (blimey the Canandians can do acoustic whimsy), I wrote a number of songs that stopped and started, had vamped barre chords and elaborate bongo parts.

As was the pattern by now, I threw myself into the band with gusto and we recorded a 2 track demo which was duly mailed out to every record label we could find, to zero response.

We did get some gig interest however so we padded the line-up to include
Paul Asplin (guitar, elder brother of mine and now thoroughly upstanding police inspector)
Arnold Meagher (bass guitar and ex-“Understudy”)
A foul mouthed scottish drummer who’s name escapes me, later replaced by a drum machine that kept time better and didn’t – quote – “sweat like a rapist” quite as much.

and played a number of live spots in the North London/Camden area.

Despite being, as far as I was concerned, a thoroughly entertaining live act with a collection of the catchiest and hook-laden pop-numbers and the defining founders of “Witpop” as a genre, the lead singer’s desire to be more than just a chisel-jawed mouthpiece for my wordplay and his subsequent biffing off to the USA meant the band collapsed “like a flan in a cupboard” (copyright Eddie Izzard. All Rights Reserved)

Songs are reprinted here for no reason whatsoever apart from it’s nice to give them an airing.
Oh, and any resemblance this web page has to David Brent banging on about how his band “Forgone Conclusion” once supported Texas, is entirely obvious and nauseating.


The collected
ill-informed drivel
of
Richard Asplin
A few words on...
pop music.
A few words on the subject
A few words on the subject
Smallville.
1996-1998
The Understudies.
1988-1991
Selina Scott Revisited Asplin

Intro.

1.
Did you ever stop to think, why the lady smiled
As you loudly chose a tracksuit from display?
And as you brought out all the cash, you’d earned by filling aisles,
Your diver’s watch just gave the game away.
You’ll all be out of date next week,
You, your mates, and all the other sheep

Chorus.
Wrangler, Reebok, Rolex, Ray Bans – nobody’s impressed.
Nike Super Air Max, Naff Naff – no thanks
Over priced and oh-ver dressed.

Inst.

2.
So you’ll sit there with your friends, complaining ‘bout your rights.
About taxes, grants and the cost of fares on trains.
In your fifty pound shirt and your hundred pound jacket and your brand new pair of Nikes
That you’ll ruin walking home in the pouring rain.
You’ll sell your house to find the means
To get a new pair of trainers or a new pair of jeans

Rpt Ch.

Bridge.
Who put the ‘naff’ into Naff Naff? Or the ‘con’ into Converse?
The salesman’s smiling so you’ll all keep buying,
But he’s grabbed you by the purse.

You’d sell your house to find the means to get a new pair of trainers or a new pair of jeans.
(Wrangler, Reebok, Rolex, Ray Bans – nobody’s impressed)
You’d eat your dad to find the means to get a new pair of trainers or a new pair of jeans.
(Wrangler, Reebok, Rolex, Ray Bans – nobody’s impressed)
You’d kill your gran to find the means to get a new pair of trainers or a new pair of jeans.
(Wrangler, Reebok, Rolex, Ray Bans – nobody’s impressed)
You’d shag your cat to find the means to get a new pair of trainers or a new pair of jeans.
(Wrangler, Reebok, Rolex, Ray Bans – nobody’s impressed)






I remember Mr Benn Asplin

Intro

1.
I remember Mr Benn and toy shop windows, Action Men.
A young 6 million dollar man, Alberto Frog and his animal band.
I remember Star Wars toys and lunchtime money, bigger boys,
Sandwiches with Marmite – neat – Piano lessons, Sesame Street

I remember Texan bars, Walt Disney films and Corgi cars,
Six week summers in the sun, St Winifreds in at number one.
I remember watching planes and babysitters and party games.
Staying in with a friend if it was wet
And bits of cake in a serviette – bass.

I remember Santa Claus and heavy snow and days indoors
Mittens joined with bits of wool, heavy sledges too big to pull
I remember conker fights and autumn leaves and early nights.
Toys that walked when you wound them up and Tizer in a paper cup.

I remember Mr Benn and toy shop windows, Action Men.
A young 6 million dollar man, Alberto Frog and his animal band.





Say Something Shocking Doran/Asplin

Intro

1.
Don’t qualify your words, don’t say “in a sense.”
I find it so sickening – well, to an extent.
Do something shocking, go out make a start,
Do something rude for the sake of art

Ch.
You don’t have to be so nice
Don’t apologise for who you are.
Why don’t you say something, even just a little bit,
Why don’t you say something shocking.

2.
Rebel against society, stand up to The States
Go out and burn all your Dire Straits tapes.
Be an individual, stand out from the crowd,
Play Sinatra a little too loud

Rpt ch.

Go and do what you want to, it may seem quite hard at first.
But don’t let the opinion of others make it turn out for the worst

Shun society, let those around you wait,
Go to bed early and stay up late
You’re polite and diplomatic, dependable, respectable
But with respect, sometimes a little dull

Rpt ch.





Sorry MeDoran / Asplin

Intro.

1.
If I put myself down, it’s so you can pick me up.
And if I let myself down, I know that I can cope.
And if I let myself down, I know that I can cope.

Ch.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s probably because you’re listening.
But please don’t take too much notice, it doesn’t really mean a thing.

2.
I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably say it again
I’m not looking for sympathy but I’ll take whatever I can.
No I’m not looking for sympathy but I’ll take whatever I can.

Ch.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s probably because you’re listening.
But please don’t take too much notice, it doesn’t really mean a thing.

Bridge
I wish I was a cynical as I pretended to be.
That the only thing that mattered to me was me.
That the only thing that matters to me is me.

Rpt Ch.

I’ll probably say it again
I’ll take whatever I can.

A man in the eyes of the law, but not much more

Rpt Ch to fade






Revenge Of A NobodyDoran / Asplin

Intro

1.
For all these years I don’t know how, you haven’t realised until now
I think it’s best that you should know, everyone wishes you would go away.

2.
With your stupid looks and your arrogant ways, you’ve always got something to say.
A witty quip or a stupid joke, I sometimes wish that you would choke
On your clever words and your smug smile that make me want to run a mile away.

But I’m saying this infront of you,
After all the things you put me through
It’s taken a while but now I’ve got the nerve
I hope you get what I think you deserve
I know I seem to melt in a crowd
But it’s genuinely considered you’re too loud

Ch.
Why don’t you just go away?
Unless you’ve got something nice to say?
Why don’t you just go away?
Unless you’ve got something nice to say?

Instr.

For all these years I don’t know how, you haven’t realised until now
I think it’s best that you should know, everyone wishes you would go away.





Dawn Of A New Era Meagher

1.
Do you remember the days when you had it all?
The style, the glitz, the fame, you had a ball.
Even then, you had your own hair.

It seemed as if it would never end
But as a matter of fact it just had to go wrong.

It was such a shame you had to go,
It was such a sad thing that you had to do.
But who the hell is now missing you?
Oh-woah. Oh-ohhhh, woah ohhhhhh.

No one wants your autograph signed with any pen.
You are all now yesterday’s men
They all became sick of you, a-ho hoahhhh

They couldn’t make it any clearer
You had no place in our future
You couldn’t see it was the dawn of a new era, a-woah-oo-woah

Let the others have their chance
Let the young ones have their chance
Let the talented have their chance




You Just Don’t Get ItKirwin / Asplin

Don’t you know I find you boring
Your talents are so annoying
Especially your snoring.
But you, you just don’t get it.

It’s like that hit, it’s your favourite song
You always sing the words all wrong.
Some words don’t fit and don’t belong but you –
You just don’t get it.

You’re one of a kind I’ll grant you that,
But that’s because you’re such a prat.
I’d get better conversation from my cat
But you, you just don’t get it.

You’re hanging around like a bad smell
I’m not being subtle, can’t you tell?
Why don’t you just go to hell,
But you – you just don’t get it.

Instr.

You just don’t get it.






A Little Louder Please Doran


Intro.

1.
What was it you said when we talked last night?
I’ve thought of it a lot since then.
I think I know what you mean, but I’m not quite certain.
I hope I heard you right.

2.
‘cause if I’m not sure then I’ll have to let it be
so if you wouldn’t mind just say it again.
But if you really don’t mind, when you say it this time.
A little louder, please.

‘Coz I only hear what I want to hear
There’s always an element of doubt
And if you came here then I’d lend you my ear
But I’m afraid you’d have to shout

Inst.

3.
You could come to tea, we could talk about things,
The subject would be down to you.
Or we could take of our clothes, wiggle our toes.
Whatever you think.

Rpt Chorus x 2






I Fell DownDoran / Asplin

Intro.

1.
You’ve missed the point again, it’s nothing to do with you so don’t take it personally
You’ve missed the point again, the words didn’t come out right, it’s not what I meant to say
When you said I should try harder, I answered off the cuff.
You, you didn’t like my answer. “I suppose” was not good enough

Ch.
I tried to make my position clear (I fell down)
Tried to say just what I feel (I fell down)
Ended up tripping over my words (I fell down)
And I fell down (I fell down)

Inst.

2.
Now I’m in such a state because I opened my mouth instead of thinking first.
It was such a big mistake. I tried to say sorry and just made it worse.
But now I can’t see why you put up with me
When I have my head in my hands, almost permanently

Rpt Ch.

Inst.

But now I can’t see why you put up with me
When I have my foot in my mouth, almost permanently

Rpt Chorus
I tried to make my position clear (I fell down)
Tried to say just what I feel (I fell down)
Ended up tripping over my words and I fell down

I tried to make my position clear (I fell down)
Tried to say just what I feel (I fell down)
Ended up tripping over my words and I fell down

I tried to make my position clear (I fell down)
Tried to say just what I feel (I fell down)
Ended up tripping over my words and I fell, I fell down






Rambling On  Doran

Intro.

1.
I was sitting in my room with the radio on trying to think of something to say
But there’s noone here to say it to, I guess I’m just wasting my days.
Just sittin’ here thinking to myself, ‘bout nothing much and everything I know.
Plans for the future, thoughts from the past, wonderin’ how long this songs gonna last.
I got nothing to do, I got nothin’ to say – but I’m gonna tell you ‘bout it any way.

We ‘re just ramblin’ on.
We’re just ramblin’ on.

2.
On the radio Frank was singin’, ‘bout how he was feelin’ so young.
I found this kind’a hard to believe.
His spring has long since sprung.
But then he’s not the only one who’s still going strong,
There’s The Stones, The Shadows and Sting. I wonder will the
Understudies still be playing “thirtysomething”
At fortysomething.
But I’m gonna sing, the lads’ gonna play
It’s a twelve bar muse to keep the blues away

We ‘re just ramblin’ on.
We’re just ramblin’ on.

Here we go –

Inst.

3.
We ‘re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)
We’re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)
We ‘re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)
We’re just ramblin’ on. Yeahhhhh,

We ‘re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)
We’re just ramblin’ on. Yeah heah heah
We ‘re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)
We’re just ramblin’ on. (ramblin’ on!)

See I’m gonna sing, the lads’ gonna play
It’s a twelve bar muse to keep the blues away
We ‘re just ramblin’ on.

Walking Like Michael (Madsen) Asplin

Intro.

1.
I got a black jacket, I borrowed it off my dad.
My trousers don’t quite match it,
They’re kind of a navy plaid.
My shoes are size nine, leather. I scuffed them bad last week.
They smell in hot weather,
On chilly days they – squeak.

But I’m tryin’ coz I’ve seen his movie sixteen times before
And she’s cryin’ coz she knows my “one more time” means “eight times more.”
And it’s because of him, all my brand new ties look so slim.
I won’t take the blame that I won’t sleep ‘til ‘Mr Blonde’s my name.

Ch.
And I’m walking, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m talking, like Michael Madsen did.

Inst

2.
I got Cuban heels. Some retro fifties shades.
Enjoy Big Mac meals, and messin’ round with blades.
Hairspray and too much Brylcreem. I’m smokin’ Marlboros ‘til I cough.
I don my shades at midnight, and refuse to take them – off

But I’m tryin’ coz I’ve seen his movie sixteen times before
And she’s cryin’ coz she knows my “one more time” means “eight times more.”
And it’s because of him, all my brand new ties look so slim.
I won’t take the blame that I won’t sleep ‘til ‘Mr Blonde’s my name.

Ch.
And I’m walking, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m talking, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m eating, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m breathing, like Michael Madsen did.

Inst.

But I’m tryin’ coz I’ve seen his film ten thousand times before
And she’s cryin’ coz her friends all talk about me behind closed doors.
And I feel so cool, though black suits don’t quite suit me as a rule.
I won’t take the blame that I won’t sleep ‘til ‘Mr Blonde’s my
I won’t rest ‘til ‘Mr Blonde’s my
I’ll shoot come cops ‘til ‘Mr Blonde’s my name.

Ch.
And I’m walking, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m talking, like Michael Madsen did.
And I’m cheating, like Michael Madsen did.
And she’s leaving, like Michael Madsen did.






Lover’s Quiff Asplin

Intro.

1.
Auden threw a party, in the county jail.
Cheesy dips and poetry, have you heard this tale?
So she folded the paper, laid it gently to one side.
Got up, greased her hair and as she flicked her hips, something inside me cried.

2.
Play a slow song to me, softly croon my name.
It’s a safety match here. Light your latest flame.
Was it maybe her crewcut when she worked her father’s farm?
Her passion for big gold cars, gaining weight and the needles in her arms.

Ch.
I can see Elvis in the way she cuts her hair.
She lives in Memphis and she’s never once been there.

3.
Spied a Murphy toaster, by her saxophone.
Breakfast every hour. Likes to drink alone.
Spends days at the mirror combing sideburns past her ears.
Sings me some gospel, takes me to church with her mom and reduce me to tears.

4.
She’s a forty seven, I’m at number three.
Lets me play her records, but we can’t agree.
I want her in sequins and a belt so tight it hurts.
She’s comfy in buckskins, collars turned up on nasty Hawaiian shirts.

Ch.
I can see Elvis in the way she cuts her hair.
She lives in Memphis and she’s never once been there.
I notice Presley in the way she holds her comb.
She’s never been to Graceland but I know it’s her home

It’s sad but it’s true, I can’t say I’m in love with you.
Just your car. So eat chilli dogs, take more drugs and play that guitar.

Inst.

I’m sorry to say, I may not always feel this way, and that hurts.
When you’re finally to fat for nasty Hawaiian -
Surrounded by girls in grassy Hawaiian skirts

Ch.
I can see Elvis in the way she cuts her hair.
She lives in Memphis and she’s never once been there.
I notice Presley in the way she holds her comb.
She’s never been to Graceland but I know it’s her home

I can see Elvis in the way she cuts her hair.
She lives in Memphis and she’s never once been there.
I notice Presley in the way she holds her comb.
She’s never seen in grey slacks but I know they’re her home





One Minute Mystery Asplin

Intro

1.
She’d ring me twice a week. Just to hear me speak.
‘Bout books and words I’d learned,
a film she’d seen, a tune she’d heard.
Our jaws would ache from tongue-in-cheek.

Ch.
But now our phone-calls last a minute, no more.
Can’t talk long, oh there’s the door.
No I’m fine, yes I’m quite sure.
A lengthy pause I can’t ignore.
And was I calling for a reason? What for?
Idle chat’s lost its rapport.
Hints as clear as semaphore, it wasn’t quite this way before.

2.
I’d phone her just as much. Just to, y’know, stay in touch.
We’d laugh ‘bout friends we knew who’d drift apart the way friends do.
I’d say “that’s not us”, she’d say, “no. Not as such.”

Rpt Ch.

3.
As Sissons follows Day, the more I try the less I say.
“It’s me” is not enough, she says her mind’s on other stuff.
But she won’t tell me his name.

Bridge
All the gallons of hot sweet tea gone cold.
And the summers of childhood tales retold.
Now a yellowing diary page, that’s all.
From the days when she used to take my call.

4.
So I hypothesize, that she’s been seeing other guys.
And we’ll just play this game ‘til she can’t quite recall my name.
Love sure smells bad before it dies.

Ch rpt x 2






Darwin Stardust Asplin

Intro.

1.
Every Sunday, Darwin went back. TO his old folks to get a little lunch and build his strength up.
Once a week, oh, Darwin went back. To his old shack to get a Sunday meal with peas and ketchup.

His dad would shoot the breeze, bounce him on his knees
“do we really come from trees?”
He’d mind his Q’s and P’s, say thank you and please
And God Bless Me, if he sneezed.
It felt like way back when. Let’s begin again.

2.
Every Sunday, round the table, he was able to talk about species, things he thought. He –
Resisted the urge, to cuddle his mum, suck his thumb, put plasticine in the pianoforte

Although at six foot three, his maturity was quite clear to you and me.
He’d let them wipe his nose, wash and iron his clothes and play ‘piggy’ with his toes.
Ho-ho-home on the range – would it ever change?


“What is it, dear diary, ‘bout my parents’ house that makes me feel this way?
Gone is my bearded wisdom, I just want to sit upstairs and play.
Do all my colleagues toy with Star Wars figures on their trips away,
And use their research grants as pocket money? What would mummy say?

Ch.
From a cell up to algae, from fish to a monkey.
In all the fat books in your local library.
Is acting so young with your folks when you’re near ‘em,
Ever a footnote in Darwinian theorem?

3.
Then one Sunday, under his nose, baby photos and little tiny boots were circulated.
Poor old Charlie jumped from his crib, tore off his bib and told them of the things he’d formulated.

They listened to his plan., origins of man,
Human races, how they ran.
They read his books all through, raised a point or two, and then put him in his pram.
Dreamed of the Nobel Prize. Sang hi lullabies.

“What is it, dear diary, ‘bout my parents’ house that makes me feel this way?
Gone is my bearded wisdom, I just want to sit upstairs and play.
Do all my colleagues toy with Masters of the Universe, on their trips away,
And use their research grants as pocket money? What would mummy say?

Rpt Ch x 2






Tar Very MuchAsplin

Intro.

1.
Something nasty crawled inside of my life
And into lives of lawyers and a housewife.
It crept up while I was in a movie.
When I woke up my lungs were trying to sue me.
I guess I’m lucky, that my major organs aren’t in to retribution.
Or I’d be faced with prosecution.
Tar, very much. These free coupons are super.
A hundred thousand more, and I get a free transplant from BUPA.

2.
And now my fingers start to fidget
Without a B&H between each digit.
The mirror shows me early shots of James Dean
Before he had his quiff filled up with windscreen.
I don’t drink tea now, just a smoking Benson and 18 cups of coffee.
My girlfriend’s gone right off me,
Tar, very much. These free coupons are super.
A hundred thousand more, and I get a free transplant from BUPA.

Ch.
Give me a cigarette. A Zippo would be macho, but a match okay if that’s all I can get.
Cancer, a sense of calm. Would Brando seem so broody if he’d roamed the street with patches on his arm?

3.
I dream I pull fedoras over my eyes.
And watch the velvet smoke dance to the night skies.
Have visions of a creaking biker jacket,
Behind each silver zip, a brand new packet.
I’m sure Clark Gable, never woke to hacking coughs and a slightly nauseous feeling,
Beneath a peeling yellow ceiling
Tar, very much. These free coupons are super.
A hundred thousand more, and I get a free transplant from BUPA.
 
Ch.
Give me a cigarette. A Zippo would be macho, but a match okay if that’s all I can get.
Cancer, a sense of calm. Would Brando seem so broody if he’d roamed the street with patches on his arm?

Bridge
A friend of mine, put his tooth in a glass of Pepsi overnight.
Come breakfast time, his incisor had shrunk in-size-all right.
Despite what the TV ad had told he,
Was neither sexy nor bright.
With his mouth all black and his gums all mouldy

Rpt Chorus x 2





Snoopy Bookends Asplin

Intro

1.
She’s got wind-chimes in her hall,
But they never make a sound, there’s no wind there at all.
Black and white prints, on her wall,
Ethnic rugs upon the ground, from a twee Camden stall
And shes got,
Half a dozen scented candles, in half a dozen scented candle-holders scattered ‘round her flat.
Daddies got three Labradors. She’s got a cat.

2.
And there’s tofu on her plate.
Red Or Dead upon her feet, some of her best friends are straight.
And the young men that she’ll date,
And the parties where they meet, well she’ll swear it’s all fate
Coz she’s read
Every book ever published on how to find a man and meet a man and keep a man and how to make men phone.
If she wasn’t always crying, she could write her own.
Between Snoopy bookends, reams of advice. Abridged and concise.
But she won’t reach inside herself if she can reach up to a shelf coz,

Ch.
Men are not from Mars, women ain’t from Venus.
There’s a Californian shrink, and he’s sitting here between us.
Though the covers keep her safe, from decisions she’s not making,
Letting strangers hold her hand, never stopped her heart from -
breaking.

3.
Credit card bills on her desk.
Never trusted free advice, words you pay for are best.
When she’s angry and depressed, had a bust up with her mum and she’s angsty and stressed,
well she knows,
Therapy surrounds her, in ever corner stacked upon the floor, behind the door, no two theories the same.
They’ll tell her she’s the victim, help her shift the blame.
Between Snoopy bookends, reams of advice. Abridged and concise.
But she won’t reach inside herself if she can reach up to a shelf coz,

Rpt ch.

Bridge
Some look for their solutions in the bottom of a glass,
But she’s out searching bookstores, or a slef-help evening class.
A daytime TV phone-in, let the experts lead the way.
Coz I’ve never been on Oprah there’s just nothing I can say

Rpt Ch x 2






I’ve Been A Wild Rover Asplin

Intro.

Ch.
I would like to be your dog, but I cannot tell you lies
So I cannot be your dog, but hell why we swap goodbyes
Don’t misconstrue me,
why I wouldn’t fetch those sticks you threw me
It’s just this lead you fitted to me.
It didn’t feel a comfy size.
That’s why there’s water in my eyes.

1.
Top breeders recommend it.
But I wouldn’t taste it, you wouldn’t waste it.
Just yelled that you’d opened it – as a treat.
So walkies that weekend, it
Didn’t have the ball games, called my mum some rude names.
While I sat all offended, at your feet.
You can’t be cross, it was your lead.
I can be cross, I’m a cross-breed.

Rpt Ch.

2.
Help your dog get fit five ways.
Take it to the vet it, doesn’t wanna get fit.
Prefers to spend it’s dog days, half asleep.
Gone is the puppy-dog gaze.
Wagging tail no more, never at the front door
When you’re held up by delays at Baker Street.
Just face the truth and you’ll feel fine,
If I was a tooth I’d be canine.

Bridge
I might love you, more than barks can say.
Which isn’t that much, really. But look, well, anyway –
I’ve got this bone to pick before it’s buried by the door.
I’ll only take so much stick, I’ve taken stick, I’ll take this stick no more

Instr.

3.
Our friend the cat has egged me,
“get a life with no wives, get eight more, get nine lives.”
Coz fish next door have pegged me “down at heel.”
And Labradors have begged me,
“Leave her on her own mate, let her lick her own plate.”
You ever said exactly what you feel.
Can’t make out your low-down apologies,
I guess it’s my ears, pitch them higher please.

Rpt ch x 2
 





Lego HeartAsplin


Lego, Lego, Lego, Lego heart.
Lego! Lego heart. Build me up, take me apart.

1.
Found a piece of me on the floor.
She said it didn’t fit anymore.
I’m not how I looked on the box, her mental blocks
Build my shape each day now my old shape is left in a drawer.

2.
Start with a flat bit, then make it blue.
A “six” or two “three” bricks, that’s up to you.
Next to me, all alone, in the night, something’s not right.
So you’ll sigh, break it up, start again in that way that you do.

Ch.
Lego, Lego, Lego, Lego heart.
Lego! Lego heart.
And my friends they all say that I’m plastic, and that’s why we both clicked at the start.
Try hard to mould what you hold, and you’ll break it apart.

3.
Sure there was more to me when we met.
Look under the setee, d’you see where it went?
Now my toy-box is looking bereft, there’s nothing left.
If a change is a rest, then I’ve slept for a year now I bet. 

Rpt ch.

Instr.

4.
Midnight in barefeet, they’re easy to find.
Those miniature fragments you left behind.
And I’ll store them away on the shelf, just for myself.
Like to play on my own for a while, if you really don’t mind.

Ch.
Lego, Lego, Lego, Lego heart.
Lego! Lego heart.
And my friends they all say that I’m plastic, and that’s why we both clicked at the start.
Try hard to mould what you hold, and you’ll break it apart.

Ch.
Lego, Lego, Lego, Lego heart.
Lego! Lego heart.
And my friends kind’a think it was drastic, and the way it was phrased wasn’t smart.
Try hard to mould what you hold, and you’ll break it apart.
Try hard to mould what you hold, and you’ll break it apart.