On Again, On Again (Jake Thackray cover) by Tim Briffa скачать в хорошем качестве

On Again, On Again (Jake Thackray cover) by Tim Briffa

Recorded live at Voltone studios, London. Filmed and edited by Telen Rodwell. Words and music by Jake Thackray (with some small changes by Tim Briffa.) ON AGAIN, ON AGAIN - Jake Thackray I love a good bum on a woman, it makes my day. To me it is palpable proof of God's existence, a posteriori. Also I love breasts and arms and ankles, elbows, knees; It's the tongue, the tongue, the tongue on a woman that spoils the job for me. Please understand I respect and admire the fairer sex, And I honour them every bit as much as the next misogynist. But give some women the ghost of a chance to talk and thereupon They go on again, on again, on again, on again, on again, on again, on. I fell in love with a woman with wonderful thighs and hips And a sensational belly, I just never noticed her lips were always moving. Only when we got to the altar and she had to say "I do" And she folded her arms and gathered herself and took in a breath and I knew She could have gone on again, on again, on again till the entire Congregation passed out, the vicar passed on and the choirboys passed through puberty. At the reception I gloomily noted her family's jubilant mood, Their maniacal laughter and their ghastly gratitude. She talks to me when I go for a shave or a sleep or a swim She talks to me on a Sunday when I go singing hymns and drinking heavily. When I'm mending the tiles on my roof she's down there in the street, And at ninety-five on my motorbike she's on the pillion seat Wittering on again, on again, on and again and again. When I'm eating or drinking or reading or thinking or when I'm saying my rosary, She will never stop talking to me; she's one of those women who Will never use three or four words, when a couple of thousand will do. She also talks without stopping to me in our bed at night; And throughout the sweetest of our intimate delights she never gives over. Not even stopping while we go hammer and tongs towards the peak Except maybe for a sigh and a groan and one perfunctory shriek. Then she goes on again, on again, on again and I must, Assume she's never noticed that she's just been interrupted Totally unruffled she is, and as far as I can see I might just as well have been posting a letter or pouring out the tea. And she will not take a hint, not once she's made a start. I can yawn or bleed or belch or faint or fart - she'll not drop a syllable. I could stand in front of her sharpening up an axe, I could sprinkle her with paraffin, and ask her for a match She'd just go on again, on again, on again even more. The hind legs of a donkey are peanuts for her, she can bore the balls off a buffalo. "Mother of God," I cried one day, "Oh, let your kingdom come "And in the meantime, Mother, could you strike this bugger dumb?" Well, believe it or not, she appeared to me then and there: The Blessed Virgin herself, in answer to my prayer, despite the vulgarity, Shimmering softly, dressed in blue and holding up a hand. I cocked a pious ear as the Mother of God began. Well she went on again, on again, on again, on, and I Must state how much I truly sympathise with the rest of the family. Give some women the ghost of a chance to talk and thereupon They go on again, on again, on again, on again, And again, and again, and again, and again They will go on again, on again, on again, on again, on again, on again, on.