Love is always scarpering or cowering or fawning
You drink yourself insensitive 'til you hate yourself in the morning.
In retrospect, I wonder what my sister Deirdre was saying by
putting "Beyond Belief" on a compilation cassette for my Mom
in the summer of 1988, when my mom and my dad split up
for good. But whatever... I honestly can't imagine that he'll
ever top it. The wordplay, the metaphors (I never knew before
this that rose and thistle stood for England and Scotland),
unfuckingbelievable.
It is my dream to one day write a song so beautiful and great
as this. Maybe all I can do is dream. Well, dream and thank
Elvis Costello for doing what I can't.
Beyond Belief
History repeats the old conceits.
The glib replies, the same defeats
Keep your finger on important issues
with crocodile tears and a pocketful of tissues
I'm just the oily slick
on the windup world of the nervous tick
in a very fashionable hovel.
I hang around dying to be tortured.
You'll never be alone in the bone orchard.
This battle with the bottle is nothing so novel.
So in this almost empty gin palace,
through a two-way looking glass
you see your Alice.
You know she has no sense
for all your jealousy....
In a sense she still smiles very sweetly.
Charged with insults and flattery,
her body moves with malice.
Do you have to be so cruel to be callous?
And now you find you fit this identikit completely.
You say you have no secrets
then leave discreetly.
I might make it California's fault.
Be locked in Geneva's deepest vault.
Just like the canals of Mars and the Great Barrier Reef,
I come to you beyond belief
My hands were clammy and cunning.
She's been suitably stunning
but I know there's not a hope in Hades.
All the laddies cat call and wolf whistle.
So-called gentlemen and ladies
dog fight like rose and thistle
I've got a feeling
I'm going to get a lot of grief.
Once this seemed so appealing...
now I am beyond belief
In retrospect, I wonder what my sister Deirdre was saying by
putting "Beyond Belief" on a compilation cassette for my Mom
in the summer of 1988, when my mom and my dad split up
for good. But whatever... I honestly can't imagine that he'll
ever top it. The wordplay, the metaphors (I never knew before
this that rose and thistle stood for England and Scotland),
unfuckingbelievable.
It is my dream to one day write a song so beautiful and great
as this. Maybe all I can do is dream. Well, dream and thank
Elvis Costello for doing what I can't.
Beyond Belief
History repeats the old conceits.
The glib replies, the same defeats
Keep your finger on important issues
with crocodile tears and a pocketful of tissues
I'm just the oily slick
on the windup world of the nervous tick
in a very fashionable hovel.
I hang around dying to be tortured.
You'll never be alone in the bone orchard.
This battle with the bottle is nothing so novel.
So in this almost empty gin palace,
through a two-way looking glass
you see your Alice.
You know she has no sense
for all your jealousy....
In a sense she still smiles very sweetly.
Charged with insults and flattery,
her body moves with malice.
Do you have to be so cruel to be callous?
And now you find you fit this identikit completely.
You say you have no secrets
then leave discreetly.
I might make it California's fault.
Be locked in Geneva's deepest vault.
Just like the canals of Mars and the Great Barrier Reef,
I come to you beyond belief
My hands were clammy and cunning.
She's been suitably stunning
but I know there's not a hope in Hades.
All the laddies cat call and wolf whistle.
So-called gentlemen and ladies
dog fight like rose and thistle
I've got a feeling
I'm going to get a lot of grief.
Once this seemed so appealing...
now I am beyond belief