The chemist's shop on Regent Street
It bustles through the night
By candlelight, a power strike
No London swing in sight

Monkeys to quell
'til division bell

Good evening, Mr Hardin, sir
You speak well on TV
And you sing, I heard
He says, I aim to serve
As, sweating hard, he flees

Colony Rooms
Matchbook and spoon

Wipe the tape and burn the film
Douse the lights as I come in
Says the rumpled statesman, Tim Hardin MP

And pour my friends a jug of punch
I will only ask you once
When you speak my name, please do so anxiously

"Mosley's sick of Downing Street"
Bing Spear smoothes his oiled hair
'mid Whitehall oak,
"and Gow has hopes for this housewife millionaire"

"Like the cigar?
They'll bring round the car"

So off to Padstow they do ride
With some boys from Fulham nick
They bring supplies which materialize
When Long Tall Timmy's sick

Torchlight parade
Such speeches he gave

Wipe the tape and burn the film
Douse the lights as I come in
Says the rumpled statesman, Tim Hardin MP

Greenwich Village was my patch
But now my toubadour days are passed
Now it's Cornish verse and monarchy for me

Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?
Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?
Nobody
Nobody's got any love

Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?
Who's got the love, got the love, got the love?
It's 1970, or 1980
Remind me, remind me
To die

At Northolt airfield, one red dawn
A stone-faced group is seen
They wave goodbye to some handcuffed guy
Who boards a plane painted green

There's Alex Trocchi
And there's Airey Neave
SW1 for early brunch on Jimmy Goldsmith's tab
We saw him off, us crooks and toffs
You have to want it bad

Holloway screws say
Girl-girl at 2

Scrub the spoons and burn the house
Light the streets as I fade out
Says the retired statesman Tim Hardin MP

I will love you from afar
From the floor of some Long Beach bar
If you speak my name, send a tape to my family


Lyrics submitted by BrutalBart, edited by wtcosgrave

Tim Hardin MP song meanings
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