By now, it's just the three of us
Me, your shadow, your echo
I do not believe
That I've ever felt any more alone
First and foremost, oh, let it be said
I am writing this at 7:10am
On the hard dry tarmac of a vacant forecourt
Astronomically speaking, it's the first day of autumn
But sun is hanging 'round like summer's hungover
They'll knock the garage down and build flats where I sit
The traffic's so persistent that it barely registers
And it smells like a mix between petrol and dog shit
Just let me be the one that
Keeps track of the moles on your back
I just sighed, the universe replied
"Let this pass you by"
Sometimes it's just enough to know
I keep him on his toes
Is he as sympathetic as me to the untimely demise
Of your synthetic clothes?
I've displayed marriage proposals on the Jumbotrons
Of ballgames you've not been at
I've written eulogies in guestbooks of galleries
In the hope that you might pass
Just let me be the one that
Keeps track of the moles on your back
I just sighed, the universe replied
"Let this pass you by"
She, nervous and barefoot, chats to me at the front door
He, boyfriend, inside's a saint, becoming a martyr
Me rolling, writhing on the floor
Stared daggers pulled from my thoracic wall
When I hold sea shells to my ears
I'm pretty sure I can hear you
He gave a gift of the Faber Book of Love Poems
Annotated the ones he thought applied the most
Not gonna win you 'round with prose
If anyone should know, then it's I should know, woah
Girl, there must be a reason you let it slip
Went to the point of sending the message
Six months of visceral Catherine Wheels
Kissing carnivores to make you seem less of a deal
Just let me be the one that
Keeps track of the moles on your back
I just sighed, the universe replied
"Let this pass you by"
I promise, after this, I will pick up the phone book
And choose the name that my eyes fall upon on their first look
Aim all of my poorly composed declarations there in the future
I'm so sorry to have to put you through
A lifetime of dedications that you never desired, oh-oh
But this one sentence bludgeons me over the head
Okay, I'm a little bit drunk, and I mean just a little bit
No lush in denial, only rather coquettish
I'm fifteen years old and my parents' only son
Like I barely survived a girls' school education
Prettier now that you've grown your hair long
I'm a slip of a man since I cut mine all off
Please just let me be the one to keep track
Of the freckles and the moles on your back
Cheers! We couldn't remember how to play the last bit, uh
So this is, Saturday night right
It's Saturday night, this is prime, prime social capital
So we're very greatful you're here
Do we have any, uh, do we have any couples?
Any lovers in the audience, this evening?
Okay, now that upsets me greatly
A Los Campesinos! concert is not a place
To bring a loved one
This is, this is a place for mourning and sadness
It's a pit of despair but
READ MORE ABOUT LOS CAMPESINOS!
