Pretty Boy Graveyard Handyman

by Paul Pennyfeather

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03:36
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All songs written by PP except *(Mojo Nixon).

credits

released June 13, 2014

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Scott Miller Music Davie, Florida

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Track Name: Girl in the Cactus Bikini
Pointy prickly planty
Porcupine-ish bikini

Keeps the wolves at bay
Who fly in from Iceland way

She’s the girl in the cactus bikini
Pointy prickly planty bikini

Keeps the wolves at bay
Who fly in from Iceland way
Track Name: They All Loved Me
History surrounds me
And I become the
King of ancient Greece
Surrounded by sultry ladies
And then I let the slaves go free
And everyone loved me
Yes, everyone loved me
Cos I was their beloved king

They all loved me
Cos I was their King
And if they didn’t it would mean
A beheading

Then I wound up in gay Paris
Where I serenaded girls pretty
And we
Sat and sipped coffee
And bathed in a fizzy sea
Of champagne so bubbly
And everyone thought I was lovely
Yes, they all thought I was lovely

All the French ladies
Thought I was lovely
Yes, that’s right … me!
Yes, they all loved me

Then I was under a tree
In cloudy 1860
Outside of Bletchley
And dined with Charlie
D. oh he
Was happy
To have a guest like me
To have a guest like me
And as his wife gave us seconds
I said, "Mr Dickens
You really know how to pick ‘em
But now another adventure beckons
And I must leave in a few seconds."
And Charles said then,
"Paul, you’re a cherished friend
And I’ll write about you when
I pick up the pen again."

I was Charles Dickens’ best friend
Well, maybe not best but still a friend
And he loved me
Cos everyone did, you see
They all loved me ...
Track Name: Pretty Boy Graveyard Handyman
Rainy day
Julie Christie
Rothman's smoke
Existentialist woe

In the charity shops
In the flats of
London
Mrs Cunningham scolds
The ghost next door

Pretty boy graveyard handyman
Drop dead Shakespeare that
Went away
Perhaps to Watford way?

He’s who knows where
And does anyone care
Well, maybe
Mrs Zaniewski
And Mrs Lavelle
And the moody girl
Who’s still
Decorating

In the sleepy streets
In the cold and sleet
In the waiting room
In the womb
Of a handsome Chanel girl
Who’s waiting
Always waiting
Like we are

Maybe he’s on vacation
With a vocation to
Snooze