I get out of bed at half-past ten
and phone up a friend who’s a party animal
Turn on the news and drink some tea
Maybe if you’re with me we’ll do some shopping
One day I’ll read or learn to drive a car
If you pass the test, you can beat the rest
but I don’t like to compete or talk street, street, street
I can pick up the best from the party animal
I could leave you, say goodbye
or I could love you if I try
and I could
and left to my own devices
I probably would
Pick up a brochure about the sun
Learn to ignore what the photographer saw
I was always told that you should join a club
stick with the gang if you want to belong
I was a lonely boy – no strength, no joy –
in a world of my own at the back of the garden
I didn’t want to compete or play out on the street
for in a secret life I was a Roundhead general
I could leave you, say goodbye
or I could love you if I try
and I could
and left to my own devices
I probably would
I was faced with a choice at a difficult age
Would I write a book? Or should I take to the stage?
But in the back of my head I heard distant feet
Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat
It’s not a crime when you look the way you do
the way I like to picture you
When I get home, it’s late at night
I pour a drink and watch the fight
Turn off the TV
Look at a book
Pick up the phone
Fix some food
Maybe I’ll sit up all night and day
waiting for the minute I hear you say
I could leave you, say goodbye
or I could love you if I try
and I could
and left to my own devices
I probably would
1988. Exaggerated but autobiographical. I used to get up at half past nine, not ten, and would often phone up a friend who was a busy London socialiser for the latest news and gossip. When I was a boy, I did dream of being an author or an actor, although my main ambition was to be a pop star. I wasn’t really a lonely boy, but I had my own corner of the back garden to play in and imagine I was a cavalier (‘Roundhead’ scanned better). Trevor Horn, who co-produced the record, told us he’d always wanted to do a musical project based on the music of Debussy, which inspired the ‘Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat’ line; as a teenager, I read Che Guevara’s book on guerrilla warfare. The last verse was lifted from one of the first songs Chris and I wrote in 1982 called ‘It’s not a crime’.