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Lay for the Day
6th December


1896: the birthday of Ira Gershwin, lyricist, brother of the composer George.


Kick

You get whiplash
When you crash
The barriers again
And you stomp your brakes in vain.
That pain, that ache
Sometimes may make
You want to say,
I have done with love,
I can do without love,
But sister when you’ve tried,
You will find I have not lied:

Love’s a wound, love’s a curse,
Lead me on from bad to worse.
You’re the best high money cannot buy.
Love’s the sting but love’s the buzz,
Never mind what harm it does,
Through the thin, through the thick,
Love’s a habit you can’t kick.
Love’s a habit you can’t kick.

Walk on needles, walk on air,
Take me dancing round the square
Then leave me in a corner all alone.
Love’s the poison, love’s the cure,
Love’s a hook and love’s a lure,
Like a time-bomb, you’re what makes me tick.
You’re a habit I can’t kick.
You’re a habit I can’t kick.

I tried my best,
I flew the nest,
You heard me say,
I have done with love,
I can do without love,
But, brother, by and by,
What you said I can’t deny:

Love makes nonsense out of sense.
Let me be your ambulance.
I think you’re in trouble with your heart.
Love’s the limit, love’s the lot,
Don’t care if I live or not.
Kill me slowly, kiss me quick.
You’re a habit I can’t kick.
Love’s a habit you can’t kick.

 
Words and music by The Children

 

The Lay Reader: an archive of the poetic calendar



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