The Spent Poets - "The Spent Poets" lyrics

All lyrics by Adam Gates.

These are the lyrics as printed in the album, and not as actually sung.

Mr. Einstein

My name is Mr. Einstein
And I'm so plain you can barely see me
I've got too much on my mind
And in my own life I'm an understudy
My intellect is a curse to me
I think I think too much each day
I'm beginning to hate humanity
When people pass me I can hear them say...

"Wouldn't you like to be one of us?"
A normal person
"Wouldn't you like to be one of us?"
Mr. Einstein

My name is Mr. Einstein
And I'd give my life or my mind
Not to be a household name
Or a living legend before my time

My Useless Heart

I'm so young
Henry is my name
Your compliments will not get you anywhere
But thank you all the same

There is none...
As I hang my head right down
My faith is blood
My religion's personified
By the God I've never found

Raise my head up and scream save me
Raise my heart up and scream spare me
This is the folly of my life
This is the habit of my heart
My useless heart

I will exercise my right
"Fire, sword and arquebus
All the people terrified
Hanging by their necks and feet"

I delight myself in chopping off heads
With one single blow
But the ghost inside, he doesn't allow
His name is Bartholomew
His name is Bartholomew...

Your Existential Past

Your existential past
The one you said would always last
Sitting on the hillside cursing the infinite
In the daytime
Of your lifetime

All she did was watch television
"It's the only thing that makes me happy
Makes me happy"
You've turned that thing into a new religion
New religion
New religion

Your existential past
Poor thing, you were getting nowhere fast
Sitting on a hillside cursing the infinite
In the daytime
Of your Lifetime


Would you like to live in the past?
Would you like your life to last?
You could be squeaky clean...
You could be squeaky clean!!

Mary - Take me to the promised place
Mary - The Gods are crying and you can't erase
Mary - Jane, Jane, Jane, Jane, Jane
Mary - Headphones are GREAT with Sgt. Pepper

Would you like to be Squeaky Fromme
Or have you head blown off by Charlie Manson?


Mary - Pop goes the culture and Paul is dead
Mary - Paul is dead and the walrus is too!


We live in the past
We live in the past...


As she cleans her brand new son
A new life just begun
Finally clean from the heroin
And those fuzzy revelations
As she brings her hands to pray
She gives her life away
Here comes mother revolution
Chewing men like air

All over the world
All over the world
Hearts are breaking
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
What are you waiting for?

Well now she's old and grey
She sits inside all day
Afraid of some rare bacteria
That drove the men away
And as she brings her hands to pray
She gave her life away
Nothing ever changes

Nothing comes easy
As you will see
Life's not the cover of a magazine
Slaughterhouses for her eyes
The one-eyed milkman cries...


Talk to me
No one ever talks to me
I'm living up north now
In Dogtown
The sky is black here
How come the sky is black here?
I've heard distant ringing church bells
Like God through a megaphone

Does anybody hear me at all?
Is anyone out there at all?
Does anybody love me at all?
I'm buried here in
I'm buried here in
In Dogtown

I'm the ghost Farmer John and I'm digging
At the sky yes I swear I'm sinking
Slap the flesh, break the spine
Burn my hands, I'm ALIVE
I'm the shadow of another shadow
I'm nothing

I'd rather sit and wander on the beach
My wife and me
Home again...
I'd rather hold my face up to the sun
In the heat of a traffic jam...

Walt Whitman's Beard

Hell's a golf course
That sways like a drunken sailor
In tropicana breezes
And everyone there has day-glow suntans
And people try too hard to look like
Mr. Sammy Davis Jr.
And Jesus tends the green
The tips fall through his hands

Let's talk about it
Let's talk about it
Scream and shout it

Throw my ashes right up to the wind
And let that motion be a metaphor
That I might travel right back in time
And rest my head on
Walt Whitman's Beard
Walt Whitman's Beard

Heaven's a bar and I have seen
Rasputin and James Dean
Holding hands while the dirty drinks are poured
And His Holiness pulls out his proudness
A polyester leisure suit
And Andy Warhol runs screaming for the door

Let's talk about it...

He's Living With His Mother Now

Balancing act on a window pane
Rubbing his belly is the man insane
Let's go ahead and try that
Wear a Mad Hatter's cap
Suck the ethereal sap
And let me introduce you to

A fat bald man walked in the room
Fresh right out of his mother's womb
If you like I will dub thee
The duke of LSD
It's the way we were meant to be
So let me introduce you to

He's living with his mother now
He's living with his mother now
Don't ask me 'cause I don't know how
That kind of thing can happen
To an ordinary life
An ordinary life...

So now you're a part of mythology
With a tongue to taste and eyes to see
Are you now bald and fat?
Matt says that's a lie
I say that is that
So let me introduce you to

When all the world was singing
Accolades to Arnold Lane [sic]
He threw it all away
And jumped right through the window pane

And nothing was the same...

Poor Sidney

Ali Ali Ackbar

They said he was the king of the world
But he never had much to say
His shit sold like salvation
Yes he sold a ton
On judgment day

"Don't ask me anything
I don't want it, NO!
Don't ask me anything...
Give me Georgia and my sweet honey pie!"

Ali Ali Ackbar
His hand's stuck in the cookie jar
Ali Ali Ackbar
A man's gotta pay the rent
Even though he's heaven sent...

He did well in the USA
All that money he's taken away...
Heard a conversation
He's preaching meditation
He tells them
"Don't fall asleep just stay awake all day!"

Don't ask me anything...
"I'm gonna buy me one of those real fast cars!
I'm gonna take you down to where I fucked all those stars...
Yeah...where I banged all those Hollywood stars..."

The Rocks In Virginia's Dress

She's watching the grass grow
Was she cow heavy too?
In Elephant and Castle
Most everybody knew
Who was buried there long ago
Professors say "untrue"
But Einstein and Van Gogh
Had dead sisters too...

Has anyone at all
Seen Virginia's dress?
And who put the rocks inside the blessed breath
Of the Hogarth Press?

Did we forget them
Did we forget these girls?
Did we forget them
Or did they forget this world?

Buried and alive
They loved your suicides
Skulls ten inches thick ask
"Now what's your next big trick?"

Has anyone at all
Seen Virginia's dress?
And who put the rocks inside the blessed breath
Of the Hogarth Press?

If that's the way that it must be
Then I'm so tired
Sick, sick, sick and tired
Let's go and listen to Morrissey...

You Don't Know Me

Sad new religion in the world
Everybody wants something to believe in
So I called myself the second coming
I guess I needed something to believe in
Go get me up
On your bedroom wall...

Let me out

Because you don't know me
You don't know me
You don't know me

Now I'm something that I've never been
Bethlehem is full of misconceptions
Now I come from Liverpool
Yes I needed something to believe in
So get me off
Your bedroom walls...

If you say that you're God
Enough times
Sooner or later everybody
Is gonna believe you...

Why Are You Sleeping With Mr. Brown?

A bomb is dropped in Manchester
A plate is dropped in Persia
And somehow that means more to him than
Divided India
So in his house he lives
An insect dies in the dust on his floor
And somehow that means more to him than
World peace and Mother Teresa

I won't wake for anything...

Why are you sleeping with Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is turning 'round
Why are you sleeping with Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is
Spinning around...

A blade of grass is growing
By the side of an iron mill
And somehow that means more to him than
All the Leonard Lakes of the world

I won't wake for anything...

A Bad Case Of Melancholy

"Icarus glances up and is caught, wondrously tunneling into that hot eye.
Who cares that he fell back into the sea?
See him acclaiming the sun and come
Plunging down while his sensible daddy goes straight into town."
- Anne Sexton

All that you say, breathe, speak and feel
Life's a joke and nothing's real
She felt like a question mark
The last straw was purest folly
For a terrible, bad case of melancholy...

In the garage she met her end
Russian breath and a hot pen
Tuna fish and carbon monoxide
What a deadly stew...

Sylvia's husband wears an oven for a hat
They drink poetry until their livers are fat
The world does not miss them,
No that's not allowed
Snodgrass is not proud...

Last update: 17 November 2018
Back to the Spent Poets