LYRIC: The Electricity Doesn’t Like The Man (October)

There was a witch once told my mother

The electricity doesn’t like the man

But was she a good witch, or was she a bad witch?

And was my father, or I, the man?

At home our lights would flicker

Our bulbs would burst, our fuses short

I thought witches were just in books

So I gave her words no further thought

Oh!

The electricity doesn’t like the man

The man!

A friend once tried a ouija board

But thought he’d let something evil in

Speaking in a different voice he said to me:

‘there’s now you, there’s now me, and there’s him’

My friend begged us to kill it

Though we were not holy men

We hoped our exorcism worked

And never ever spoke of it again

The electricity doesn’t like the man

The man!

My sister would sometimes hear someone coughing

When in the house and all alone

Tell me please who could have been coughing

When there was no one else at home?

It was only when we’d moved out

That we learned that in that room

A previous owner had lost their life

Coughing blood from a fatal flu

The electricity doesn’t like the man

The man!

My first home after university

We had this lovely big spare room

But no matter how well you lit it

You couldn’t ever seem to shake the gloom

Friends seldom stayed a second night

We didn’t need to ask them why

We knew that was the room in which

The landlord’s dear old mother died

The electricity doesn’t like the man

The man!

Halloween movies I watch them in the dark

As I ignore the broken switch

And pretend the lights are off by my own choice

Trying not to think about the words of that witch

  

I don’t believe the dead can talk

Despite the things I’ve heard and seen

The electricity didn’t like the man

But was dad the man, or was the man me?

Oh was it me?

The electricity doesn’t like the man

The man!

The man!

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LYRIC: Ian Malcolm and the Anarchists (November)

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LYRIC: Until it Doesn’t (September)