Ninety Days

from by Robin Grey



The angriest bit of music I ever hope I write. All totally my own fault too with hindsight but hey...


My congratulations – girl you’ve bled me dry.
Though you tried to warn me,
I’m still feeling quite surprised.
I'm rearranging clichés as I lie in this room.
I'll go and check with Ani
‘cos she’ll have been here too. Fuck you.

You said that you were sorry –
Babe that just won’t do.
Do you really think a band-aid
Could heal this open wound?

I dreamed there was us –
But there is only me and you.
Or perhaps now just me –
Do our bridges lie in ruins? Fuck you.

I wonder if you shook me hard enough
Would these feelings go away?
A day of listless longing with nothing left to say
Walking on a wire – I thought I’d risk a leap.
But I never could have guessed you’d
Take the ground out from my feet.

And now I don’t know where to turn
I’m back in free fall
Today I mourn your memory but tomorrow move on. Fuck you.

I hope that I am wrong.
I hope I see you soon.
I hope that you will call me –
Cos I sure ain’t calling you.

We were laying down foundations
But the cornerstones weren’t true
Now the horses they have bolted
And the sunset’s been ruined. Fuck you.

My tear ducts empty, I’m sure I’ve paid my dues.
And what I lose in rhythm I’m making up in blues.
I hope that you are happy; I trust that she is well.
The night closes in on my Tuesday.


from Strangers With Shoes, released December 1, 2009
Joe Allen on drums
Ben Oliver on keys
Tom Pie on double bass
Engineered by Marc Specter