From Under The Covers

[ti:From Under The Covers] [ar:Beautiful South] [al:Welcome To The Beautiful South] [by:季风网-【http://www.ip21.cn】] [offset:0] It's six a m and even Big Ben Is trying to get his head down for a kip But no sooner is it down and it's on with dressing gown While this city very rarely loses grip But I have a friend who's never up by ten He's fast asleep with mouth open wide He's lost a lot of jobs but he's won a lot of friends And he says to me he cannot tell the time It's seven a m and we're coughing up the phlegm Spitting out the taste of night before And we'll vomit and we'll choke just to climb their tatty rope Well this city has its charm and its claw And he'll blame his clock or he'll say he's lost his socks And they'll tell you that he's been bitten by a snake His excuses are an art from the bottom of his heart And he thinks of them whenever he awakes It's eight a m and we're on the road again Racing for a placing at the top And says green for go for the people in the know But for the others all it says is red for stop It's cold and it's damp and they've dug him a grave And the ten fifteen merchant's still in bed And scrawled upon the headboard for the whole wide world to see Is 'Died In The Arms Of Big Ted'