Fire Engine Lyrics

Ripples round the bar they don't know what to think

For prince of the pen has himself a new favourite drink

To blow on bruised skin takes away the sting

I've half a mind to take him for a fling



The most uncouth of colours that you have ever seen

30mls of vodka lemonade and grenadine

The smoke makes me sick and i don't know where to look

There's a church mouse in the corner with her nose stuck in a book



And he says the flavour's flambouyant

Each sip sweetly poignant with a wave of the hand and a flick of the fringe

It baffles the quibblers, nit-pickers, nut-nibblers and unusual weapon to choose for a binge



Would these words sound the same on high street in broad daylight

But nothing escapes the ears of a playwright

He listens intently from the backseat of a Bentley

Let this feeling of change take hold of me gently



Now there's fog on the Isis and the poets all blush

This scene is straight from the stroke of an impressionists brush

And now his glass is sat there next to mine

30mls of vodka lemonade and grenadine