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Tunnel

de Pulp

The tenth of July, 1985
Don't ask stupid questions
I had nothing to do I was bored
I had, I had not
Fifteen weeks since the light has gone
Fifteen weeks with the same shirt on
A thousand bodies stink and sweat
and somebody's trying to roll a cigarette
Clean mister
Clean mister
Clean missed her
Just relax and enjoy it, it's nothing really.
Let's get you out of these damp clothes,
just lift yourself up,
get thous dreadful trousers off.
You'll feel so much better afterwards.
Just close your eyes and let it ooze all over you.
Trickling down your back warm and sticky.
Isn't that nice?
No don't speak, just let yourself go,
sink, sinking down deeper and deeper and deeper.
At 3 o'clock that morning I awoke in an unfamiliar room
in my hands like sodden paper
a thick, glutinous pale green liquid
sunlight through net curtains
6,000 miles an hour into brilliant white light.
There's a brass band playing somewhere.
Roll on your back and wait for the talbum.
But what's that?
Pull back the linen sheets to find the shirt
they peeled off your back only two hours before
the bed tips sideways.
No
and to one day wake up in green fields with the sky blue above me.
And to be clean again.
But I know I'll never be clean again.

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