Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Conversation With The Flying Plates, artist - Gilbert O'Sullivan. Album song Piano Foreplay, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Record label: Grand Upright, Union Square
Song language: English
Conversation With The Flying Plates |
I’ll tell you what you want to hear |
Tell me where I’d like to go |
Ask me where the Summer went |
That way maybe I don’t know |
And while my life’s not in a rut |
Every weekend I take flight |
Given that today’s the day |
Presumably tonight’s must be the night |
Accustomed though I am |
To crying in the rain |
What’s the point of counting sheep |
When by the time you get |
To ten or twelve you’re asleep |
You are my love you are my life |
It’s emblazoned on my chest |
Every time we have a row |
I just keep it covered with a vest |
You ask if I am anxious |
How this will pan out |
Let’s just say until it’s foiled |
Answer does I fear |
Lie nowhere near the soil |
And so the conversation |
With the flying plates begin |
You see a pattern now emerging |
On a plate shell fling |
It doesn’t matter where it goes |
As long as it goes fast |
You recognize your favourite |
China cup as it goes past |
And was the Meissen so enticingly |
That I had to leave |
Surely the fact it was a wedding present |
Would ensure |
It would remain secure |
Like to think within a year |
We’ll look back on this and laugh |
Only problem is it’s year |
One year on’s already what we’ve had |
Accustomed though I am |
To diamond-studded ears |
Which by the way on men |
As it’s just in one |
Look when hung |
Bent |
And so the conversation |
With the flying plates continues |
In the yellow corner |
Flexing all her muscular vim |
Throwing overhand or underhand |
It makes no odds |
Lovely bit of Royal Doulton |
Heading for ye Gods |
And in the midst of all this carnage |
Comes a sobering thought |
Most of what has been destroyed |
Can never be re-bought |
Such a shame now in the morning |
As the maid comes in |
On her morning stint |
Looking on in shock |
After taking stock |
Of what’s around her feet |