Friday, May 25, 2007

The Minicab

Yeah I get all sorts in here
Make a crust innit

Work all hours me
Got a baby on the way
Y'know how it is
So it'd be nice
If you could sort us out wiv a tip

Yeah I'm knockin off after you
Past my bedtime innit
But I took pity on ya din’t I
Standin there
White as a sheet
I thought: There’s a man as needs his bed
I’m perceptive like that
See things no-one else sees
Little bit psychic my wife reckons
I say: Yeah right love
You mean psycho not psychic

Hey you feelin alright?
Look if you puke its fifty quid straight up
Only had them seats done last month
Bloke pissed hisself
Not funny
Jumped a red there

Don’t say much do ya?
Silent type is it
That’s alright
We all got our secrets
Take this town for instance
That spot yeah
That spot where I picked you up
Massive pile-up there only last week
Lorry jackknifed doing sixty
Similar time of night too
People think they own the road in the small hours
Multiple deaths
Claret all over the shop
‘pparently the driver
The driver yeah
My mate Ricky reckons anyway
The driver
Got his head cut clean off
Whiplash or summing
Clean off
Makes me go cold just thinkin bout it
‘pparently the firemen
Had to wash the blood down the drains with the hose
Wouldn’t know nothing lookin at it now wouldya?
Secrets see
I’m tellin ya

He’s full of shit though is Ricky
He reckons
The night after that accident yeah
He stopped to pick some bloke up
At that very same spot
At that very same time
Pale-lookin geezer
Didn’t say much
Sat in the back
Where you’re sittin now
Silent as the grave

So Ricky’s chattin away
As you do
Half a mile later
Turns round
Geezer’s gone!

What does he take me for
Full of shit is Ricky

Now then
Where was it you said you was goin?


Mate ...

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