The last night of the fair
By the big wheel generator
A boy is stabbed
And his money is grabbed
And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine
She is famous
She is funny
An engagement ring
Doesn't mean a thing
To a mind consumed by brass (money)
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone...
...But my faith in love is still devout
The last night of the fair
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone...
...But my faith in love is still devout
Then someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
Someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine
And someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone ...
...But my faith in love is still devout
This is the last night of the fair
And the grease in the hair
Of a speedway operator
Is all a tremulous heart requires
A schoolgirl is denied
She said : "How quickly would I die
If I jumped from the top of the parachutes?"
La...
This is the last night of the fair
And the grease in the hair
Of a speedway operator
Is all a tremulous heart requires
A schoolgirl is denied
She said : "How quickly would I die
If I jumped from the top of the parachutes?"
La...
So...scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
(This means you really love me)
Scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
(This means you really love me)
Oh...
And though I walk home alone
I just might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
La...
By the big wheel generator
A boy is stabbed
And his money is grabbed
And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine
She is famous
She is funny
An engagement ring
Doesn't mean a thing
To a mind consumed by brass (money)
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone...
...But my faith in love is still devout
The last night of the fair
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone...
...But my faith in love is still devout
Then someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
Someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine
And someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine
And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone ...
...But my faith in love is still devout
This is the last night of the fair
And the grease in the hair
Of a speedway operator
Is all a tremulous heart requires
A schoolgirl is denied
She said : "How quickly would I die
If I jumped from the top of the parachutes?"
La...
This is the last night of the fair
And the grease in the hair
Of a speedway operator
Is all a tremulous heart requires
A schoolgirl is denied
She said : "How quickly would I die
If I jumped from the top of the parachutes?"
La...
So...scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
(This means you really love me)
Scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
(This means you really love me)
Oh...
And though I walk home alone
I just might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
La...
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I want to be fourteen again,
When sex was just called number ten,
And I was up to seven and a half.
Boys were for love, girls were for fun.
You burst out laughing if you saw a nun.
Sophistication was a sports car and a chiffon scarf.
I want to be fourteen again,
Tattoo my self with a fountain pen,
Pretend to like the taste of rum and Coke,
Chuck my school hat in a bush,
Spit on my mascara brush,
Buy Consulate and teach myself to smoke.
I want to be fourteen again,
Free rides on the waltzer off the fairground men
For a promise of a snog the last night of the fair—
French kissing as the kiosks shut
Behind the generators with your coconut,
The coloured lights reflected in the Brylcream on his hair.
I want to be fourteen again,
For all the things I didn't know then.
When I was funny, I was famous, I was never ignored,
I was a crazy girl, I had to laugh.
I had Ilya Kuriakin's autograph.
I had no idea you could wake up feeling bored.
It's actually a bit knopfler-esque in that way
"Morrissey borrowed freely from the pen of comedienne Victoria Wood and hijacked her song 'Fourteen Again' for his own satiris purposes. What emerges is a striking adaptation in which Wood's humorously affectioante reminiscences are subverted into a threatening landcsape where casual violence and the threat of romantic suicide are menacingly present."
"As Marr points out, the primary idea was to create a song that captured the raw excitement of youths visiting a Manchester fairground. (...) Morrissey also travelled back to his earlier memories in dramatising the dazzling unpredictability of faiground life. 'As a child, I was literally educated on fairgrounds', he claimed. 'It was the big event. It was why everybody was alive. On threadbare Manchester council estates once a year fairs would come around. It was a period of tremendous violence, hate, distress, high romance and all the truly vital things in life...In Rushholme, it was the only thing people had."
"
Oh the shock and horror of it all...
As i said on the badly named 'Marie's the name' thread...i feel its morrissey, that awkward Manchester (Rusholme is in Manchester [home to the famous curry mile]) boy going to a fair. He doesn't belong there in that vulgar place, but oh gosh doesn't he get a secret thrill from it. That sort of feeling crops up regularly in Morrissey's solo work, with his love of the ruffian/teddy boy etc.
Reminds me of a friend of mine
xo
and his money is grabbed
the boy, refferring probably to a child, someone innocent and society taking advantage of him.
"she is famous she is funny, and an engagement ring doesnt mean a thing"
she doesnt care for a personal love.. only the love of the general public maybe and money.. whoever she may be.
thatisall
It was mentioned somewhere on the morrissey-solo webiste that the "scratch my name on your arm.." part is supposed to be literally taken as scratching, i.e. tattooing, as schoolkids back in the day would (apparently) try and woo the one they loved my permanently inking their name into their arm.
..albeit in a rather clumsy, messy and no doubt, dangerous manner.
I'm not quite sure how true this is, but I find it interesting.