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• Artiste: Little Comets
• Titre: The Man Who Wrote Thriller
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Picture the instant When it dawns in your mind That the things that you wanted Were never so kind How will you react To this seminal moment? To be down like a soldier Left to pick all the fights So many nights When I’m wound up so tight I just cling to the thoughts That the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough With his dog Getting on with his life There’s hope in my bones (My emotions will not tire) While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough Those several moments That threaten to Define your life completely They devour like chips From a cheap foam cup On a beach in Whitby If I ever get majestical And grow perfunctory eyes Just wind in my neck And hope that I will be wise So many nights When I’m wound up so tight I just cling to the thoughts That the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough With his dog Getting on with his life There’s hope in my bones (My emotions will not tire) While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough So many nights When I’m wound up so tight I just cling to the thoughts That the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough With his dog Getting on with his life There’s hope in my bones (My emotions will not tire) While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough While the man who wrote thriller Lives in Scarborough So daft that I nearly reacted to The people with the manifold action Who don’t see life as a body of water So please bless me with a son or a daughter