Hey in the pouring rain
When the smell of terror brings a thousand eyes
The red men come again
They kill my children and they kill my wife
And then they leave me bleeding
Family dead, just freaking out bleeding
Stoned in the gutter
Empty of my colour
I'm fried, fried, ticking in the side
Body twitched from side to side
I'm fried, fried, ticking in the side
Body twitched from side to side
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
You've got to run for an hour and you're still not done
You've got to run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
Away, away, away, away, away
Hey in the ice and snow
When the call up sounds to the real in deed
But do you really wanna know
How we rode into freedom on whimsy and greed?
And they said your time is over
I don't see any gallant calls
I don't see an inch of reflex
'cept to leave me bleeding
Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding
I'm fried, fried, ticking in the side
Body twitched from side to side
I'm fried, fried, ticking in the side
Body twitched from side to side
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
You've got to run for an hour and you're still not done
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
Away, away, away
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
You've got to run for an hour and you're still not done
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
Away, away, away, away, away
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
You've got to run for an hour and you're still not done
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
Away, away, away
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
You've got to run for an hour and you're still not done
Run, run, Reynard, run, run, run
Away, away, away, away, away
Reynard left and went to Warwickshire, to a mound near a railway line,
with canals and a freezing swamp. He climbs high up above the countryside
and breathes freely. To the south he could see Polesworth, and to the
north he could just make out the ruins of the priory where Joss and I
played cricket as children. We were only three miles away, probably drinking
tea and talking,
(Have you heard about the orphan, sitting by the coffin)
at the same time as he was taking the stanley knife out of
the bag. He pushed the point into his stomach,
(His Father's not a sinner no more)
until the light shone right
through. And then he reached down, and he took the bag.
It's a plastic bag
With plastic handles
And plastic sides
and
and
And
ANd
AND
HE SPILLED HIS GUTS ALL OVER THE STAGE
HE SPILLED HIS GUTS ALL OVER THE STAGE
Julian Cope (born Julian David Cope on October 21, 1957) is a Welsh singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, writer, musicologist, record producer, and antiquarian. He is known for his musical career that began in the 1970s with the post-punk band The Teardrop Explodes, of which he was the lead singer and primary songwriter. After the band's disbandment, Cope continued to release music as a solo artist, exploring genres such as psychedelic rock, indie rock, and folk music. He is also a prolific writer, with numerous books published on musical, cultural, and historical topics. Among his most famous works are "Krautrocksampler" (1995), a guide to German psychedelic music of the 1970s, and "Head-Music" (2003), an essay on the history of rock music. Cope is known for his eccentric personality and his unconventional approach to music and writing. Some of his most representative songs include "Reward", "Sleeping Sickness", and "World of Skin".
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