The Queen Is Dead (Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty)

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The Smiths

The Smiths were an English alternative rock band, formed in Manchester in 1982. Based on the song writing partnership of vocalist Morrissey and guitarist Johnny Marr, the band also included bassist Andy Rourke and drummer Mike Joyce. Critics have called them the most important alternative rock band to emerge from the British independent music scene of the 1980s. The group was signed to the independent record label Rough Trade Records, on which they released four studio albums, several compilations, and numerous non-LP singles. Although they had limited commercial success outside the UK while they were still together, and never released a single that charted higher than number 10 in their home country, The Smiths won a significant following, and remain cult an… more »

Year:

1988

4:13

256 Views

Playlists:

#2

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Oh! Take me back to dear old Blighty,
Put me on the train for London Town,
Take me anywhere,
Drop me anywhere,
Liverpool, Leeds or Birmingham
But I don't care,
I should like to see my...

I don't bless them
Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes
Hemmed in like a boar between arches
Her very lowness with a head in a sling
I'm truly sorry - but it sounds like a wonderful thing

I said Charles, don't you ever crave
To appear on the front of the Daily Mail
Dressed in your Mother's bridal veil?
Oh...
And so, I checked all the registered historical facts
And I was shocked into shame to discover
How I'm the eighteenth pale descendant
Of some old queen or other

Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed?
Oh has the world changed, or have I changed?

Some nine-year old tough who peddles drugs
I swear to God
I swear : I never even knew what drugs were
Oh...
So, I broke into the palace
With a sponge and a rusty spanner
She said : "Eh, I know you, and you cannot sing"
I said : "That's nothing - you should hear me play piano"

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But when you're tied to your Mother's apron
No-one talks about castration
Oh...

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
Like love and law and poverty
Oh, these are the things that kill me

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But the rain that flattens my hair...
Oh, these are the things that kill me

All their lies about make-up and long hair, are still there

Past the pub who saps your body
And the church who'll snatch your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb
Past the pub that wrecks your body
And the church - all they want is your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb

Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely

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