Whippet Fanciers

I took the paternoster lift to the fourteenth floor
And I couldn’t help despairing over what I saw
Thousands of whippets were running around
And not one of them belonged to me

I don’t know if you’ve heard the news by now
But they’re planning on pulling all our old haunts down
Not that it’ll matter too much to you
But I have to live with the consequences

Without you I’ll still be smiling
But I won’t be having fun
I laid awake in my flat pack bed
And all I heard was one pair of lungs

I wasn’t always stuck in this state of affairs
He and I lorded it for two or three years
He said, “don’t get me wrong love, I’ve had a good time
But the concrete gets me down”

We talked for a while and we occasionally met
Just to keep up the pretence that it could happen again
But now all I’ve got is a postcode to go on
And that won’t get me laid

Without you I’ll still be smiling
But I won’t be having fun
I laid awake in my flat pack bed
And all I heard was one pair of lungs

And there are things you won’t forget
4711 at the nape of the neck
Swallow tattoos and cameo brooches
Applying eyes on southbound coaches
Raiding skips of next-door neighbours
Piles of unread Sunday papers
Stealing from cosmetics counters
And all the things I’ll never ,ever do again
Now that you’ve gone
And all the whippets, all the whippets
Pass me by, pass me by

Without you I’ll still be smiling
But I won’t be having fun
I laid awake in my flat pack bed
I had a spinning headache
And all I heard was one pair of lungs
I need to hear two pairs of lungs