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Neighbours - Everybody Loves Good Neighbours letra
I
Cancer? Cancer?! I dream of cancer -
Cancer can eat my bones:
O, lucky I would consider myself
To be racked by cancerous moans.
A fate more evil, a life more lost
The Devil for me foresaw:
Imagine the day I woke to find
The Milats had moved next door!
II
Was I a man of the bourgeoisie?
Ha! Of course I was more than that!
I was a latte drinking, clever thinking
Documentary making pratt.
I ran my own film company,
I was an artist, I was sure.
Then I heard my neighbour say:
"I'm Alex Milat. I'm in next door."
III
My films explored the evil side
Of Mankind's unknowable self;
My kids all went to private schools,
My wife, she bloomed with health;
The critics applauded my visual style
And my dissection to the core
Of the Freudian, Jungian evil id.
Then the Milats moved next door.
IV
Ivan, of course, was doing time
But his brothers are all free men.
"There's me, there's Walter," said Alex Milat,
"And Richard - in all, there's ten.
Me and the wife moved in last week,
And when Richard's coming we're unsure.
You like films? Well, I'll bring over someÂ… shots.
Wink. Wink. We only live next door."
V
A shadow, a pall, hung over my days
The first weeks after I found out.
The bruchutto was off, the antipasto stale
At the cafes where we'd all hang out.
"It's good for your art," said my cameraman,
"They're just the sort your films explore."
"Fuck my films," I told Toby, "you pretentious git -
My fucking films don't knock on my door."
VI
My wife was a painter, sculptor too -
Her studio was set up at home.
"I can't stay here," she'd scream at me,
"It's impossible to work alone."
Her exhibition was coming up soon -
A review in the Age for sure.
"Just stay calm," I'd scream - so loudly, too,
I bet you they could've heard next door.
VII
A couple of months after they came
I got a call from my children's school:
"Your daughter's been caught smoking pot,
And your son's started playing the fool.
The counsellor's asked them both to say
If their home is quite safe and secure."
By his tone I knew straight away
He lay the blame right at my door.
VIII
My next film was a critical flop
For the first time in my career.
"He seems to have lost his ability
To show evil up close and near."
I read that review, and gave a laugh -
Critics always think they know more.
Fucking critics should try living up close
To the people who live next door.
IX
Toby left me the very next month
To shoot a Gillian Armstrong flick.
"You know," he told me when he left,
"I always thought you a soft cock prick."
Funding dried up; grants turned down;
My wife couldn't take any more:
"I'm leaving," she said, "I'm getting out.
I can't live here with them next door."
X
But the way she said it, how she left,
I knew the Milats were her excuse:
She married a successful film artist,
Not a failure. The final proof
Came when I heard three months later
She'd moved in with some director bore
Whose film was at Cannes. She was gone -
But I couldn't blame the people next door.
XI
My children went to some alternative school
Where all the hippy children go;
After that, we sort of lost contact -
I last heard from them two years ago.
I got a job in advertising
Shooting commercials - on video, what's more.
No super 8, only mainstream crap
Designed for the people who live next door.
XII
And yesterday came my greatest shock -
Oh, Truth comes bound in Pain:
I went to next door's intercom
And asked for Alex Milat by name.
"Who?" said a voice, incredulous.
"Why, they're not living here no more.
They moved out nearly two years ago.
Hey, aren't you the weirdo who lives next door?"
XIII
No matter how easy or sweet life is,
Be sure - your life will change;
There is a shadow hangs over us
That leaves none of us the same.
There is another person waiting to come
Buried in your deepest core:
You'll be found out. Who you really are
Lives behind your very own door.
Tism - Letras
- (he'll Never Be An) 'ol Man River
- (i Think I've Got) Mick Jagger Worked Out
- (i'm Gonna Sit Right Down And) Whittle Away My Fur
- (there's Gonna Be) Sex Tonite
- 40 Years - Then Death
- A Faceful Of Divertimenti
- Abscess Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
- All Homeboys Are Dickheads
- All Ordinaries Index
- Anarchy Means Crossing When It Says 'don't Walk'
- And The Ass Said To The Angel: 'wanna Play Kick To
- Apology Of The Thai Drug Runner
- Aussiemandias
- Australia - The World's Suburb
- Babies Bite Back
- Backstage With Ron Hitler
- Bash This Up Your Ginger
- Been Caught Wankin'
- Bfw
- Bishop = Handjob
- Boot Party
- Channel Turd
- Choose Bad Smack
- Come Back Dj, Your Record Is Scratched
- Consumption Tax
- Dazed And Confucious
- Death Death Death Amway Amway Amway
- Defecate On My Face
- Denial Works For Me
- Dicktatorship
- Doug Parkinson Sings Christie Allen
- Drop The 'tude
- Dumb 'n' Base
- Eckermann Is Very Silly
- Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me
- Existentialtism
- Ezra Pound - Axe King
- Ezra Pound - Axe King 2
- Father And Son
- Five Yards
- Fourteen Years In Rowville
- Fuck 'em, Fuck 'em - The Lot Of 'em
- Garbage
- Gas! Gas! An Ecstacy Of Fumbling
- Get Thee In My Behind, Satan
- Get Thee To A Nunnery
- Gimme Gimme Nervous Breakdown
- Give Up For Australia
- Go The Knuckle
- Gotta Root Out Of It
- Great Expectorations
- Greg! The Stop Sign!
- Hello To All Our New Tism Fans
- Honk If You Love Fred Durst
- I Don't Want Tism, I Want A Girlfriend
- I Drive A Truck
- I Go Off
- I Might Be A Cunt, But I'm Not A Fucking Cunt
- I Shit Me
- I'll 'ave Ya
- I'm Interested In Apathy
- I'm Into Led Zep
- If You Ever Hear His Name, Harden Not Your Arterie
- If You Want The Toilet, You're In It
- If You're Creative, Get Stuffed
- If You're Not Famous At Fourteen, You're Finished
- If You're Ugly, Forget It
- In Defense Of Poetry
- Jack Elliot's Turf Whinge
- Jesus Pots The White Ball
- Johnny To B. Or Not To B. Goode
- Julius Seizure (act Iii, Scene Ii, Verse 73-118)
- Jung Talent Time
- Kate, Fischer Of Men
- Kevin Borich Expressionism
- Kevin Borich Expressionism Parts 1,2 And 4
- Kill Americans
- Kill Yourself Now And Avoid The Rush
- Leo's Toltoy
- Let's Club It To Death
- Let's Form A Company
- Life Kills
- Life Kills 2
- Lillee Caught Dilly Bowled Milli Vanilli
- Long Hard Thirst Needs A Big Cold Beer, But I Dr
- Lose Your Delusion Ii
- Loser, Losing, Lost
- Lyric For Jack
- Martin Scorcese Is Really Quite A Jovial Fellow
- Michael Hutchence In Hell
- Michael Jackson's Conveyor Belt
- Mistah Eliot - He Wanker
- Morrison Hostel
- Mourningtown Ride
- Mr. Ches Baragwanath - State Auditor General
- My Brilliant Huntington's Chorea
- My Generation
- Neighbours - Everybody Loves Good Neighbours
- Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The House Of Repre
- Nick Cave And Jim Morrison Play Kick To Kick
- Opposite Day
- Play Mistral For Me
- Professor Derrida Deconstructs
- Pus
- Pus Of The Dead
- Put Your Dog To Sleep
- Rebel Without A Paunch
- Recorded By Triple J, Jan 23 1993, Melbourne Showg
- Ron Hitler Barassi Talks About How He Does It
- Root
- Russia
- Saturday Night Palsy
- Schoolies Week
- Sickie
- State Schools Are Great Schools
- Strictly Loungeroom
- Subliminal Satanic Message
- Take Your Love
- Tale Of Two Faeces
- Teenage Fucking Jesus
- Ten Points For A Razor Scooter
- The Art-income Dialectic
- The Australian Guitar Hero Makes His Last Stand
- The Back Upon Whic Jezza Jumped
- The Ballad Of John Bonham's Coke Roadie
- The Ballad Of Paul Keating
- The Ballad Of The Semetic Nazi
- The Fosters Carpark Boogie
- The Judeo-christian Ethic
- The Law Of Repulsion After Orgasm
- The Love You Take Equals The Love You Make So Baby
- The Men's Room
- The Mordialloc Road Duplicator
- The Mystery Of The Artist Explained
- The Only Thing Stopping Me From Being Happier Is T
- The Parable Of Glenn Mcgrath's Haircut
- The Tism Boat Hire Offer
- The Tism Nightsoil Cart And Horse Blues
- There's More Men In Children Than Wisdom Knows
- Thou Shalt Not Britney Spear
- Thunderbirds Are Coming Out
- Tism Club Song
- Untz Untz Untz Untz
- Volare
- Watering Systems
- We Are The Champignons
- Weddings, Parties, Anything
- Wham Bam Thank You Imam
- Whatareya
- While My Catarrh Gently Weeps
- Whinge Rock
- Would The Last Person To Leave Please Turn Out The
- X-treme Sports Can Kiss My Arse
- Yob
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