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fionn regan - put a penny in the slot lyrics

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i apologise,
seem to have arrived,
on what items in my bag from your house.
there’s cutlery,
a tablecloth, some hennessy,
and a book on presidents deceased.
i’ll have them fed-exed to you,
it was a strange thing to do,
i hope we can still be friends.
ah, it was not me,
but someone else, you see,
twisting the steering reins.

put a penny in the slot and make an
artificial li-ii-iight shine,
leave go-ooo. mark old and line.

i don’t give advise,
but be wise and think twice,
before getting involved in a game.
where the minority
face the majority,
who are faceless and born without names.
was it knock synch when
we came across three men,
they had church candles wrapped in newspaper.
i bought two from them,
and i’ll lit one for you,
i hope the message made it’s way down the wire.

put a penny in the slot and make an
artificial li-ii-iight shine,
leave go-ooo. mark old and line.

the soul of a dog,
he’s alive and not gone
to the farm like the others said.
a rhodesian richback,
off the beaten track,
in a furniture shop down on the quays.
for the lonliness you foster,
i suggest paul oster,
a book called timbuktu.

put a penny in the slot and watch the
drunken sailor boy dance.
she will not let you be
her lov-ver.
she goes out looking for
the taxi.
her phone is ringing straight to
message-minder.
send out a battalion to
find her.

put a penny in the slot and count the
swans through a te-elescope.
i can’t help from cryin’
i wish you were mine.

when i was seventeen,
i followed my dream,
up into a high-rise block.
the adventures of augie march,
by saul bel-low,
was all i had for company.
at night time i’d lie
in beckingham pike,
with tears like flashbulbs.
and recall my treasure-
searching days,
in the rock pools as a kid.

to the remains of
the cherub plains,
or around the bonfire in nailors’ cove.
good company and grief
sit like a dark leaf,
sits beside a singing nett-le.

put a penny in the slot and make an
artificial li-ii-iight shi-iine,
leave go-ooo. my golden arm



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