cabbie's shelter - marsy mars lyrics
[intro]
“i’ll be your one*woman aid society
and i’ll be your rescuer
c’mon, cabbie, cabbie
let’s ride tonight.”
“f*cking p*ssheads.”
[verse 1]
between the twin peaks of ciara and corona
on the old brompton road, in poise
toadlike sat i, on the lily of the cabman’s shelter
floating in a pond of ten*sugar’d brew
that noise what mingles with distant light
to make rhyme in the air of this town; that’s me
that’s the sound of my vehicle, plunging through
the thought noise, in inexhaustible service to
a city of blood sports, in which
blades are bathed in acid
to accessorise the later comport
of thus*sceptred kings
you’re either metropo’ enough
to laugh, or metropoor enough
to wish that you could;
or you’re among the last of
a dignified labouring class
born after the fading of the regime
like me. i inherited only the shelter
and frankly
my top hat revolves in indignation
[chorus]
come on cabbie, cabbie
go on and horse up the cart tonight
we’re going for a ride
[verse 2]
i’ve been every faith’s witness
charted confessions at every minute of the night
which is after all, the kingdom in which
truth can for a time its heavy helm set aside
here, where the den of thieves’ philosophy reigns
common, so potent as to disease and wither the bearer
i find too that i look upon you, my fare and fairest, as but
plunging lines, stocks and shares, best counted by moonlight
one of 21,000 thousand haroun al*droshkys
not a reference you’d necessarily expect me make
once upon a time, perhaps me neither; been around
the world, though i’ve never gone anywhere (‘cept spain)
all that driving, driving, driving
gives you plenty of time to think;
i wonder, do they consider a moment
how far and deep i’ve thought?
the purest form of movement there is
[bridge]
‘long live the metropolitan class’
they chant, mounted ‘pon balaam’s ass
[coda]
i’ll be driving, driving, driving
until i find that my chariot awaits
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