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Your Day Will Come
Available on: Let The War Against Music Begin
Written by: McCaughey/Robyn Hitchcock

Days pass by so quickly when your brain goes south
You say that I look sickly it's the foam around my mouth

I don't care if you're beautiful and young
Your day will come
You sing in the rain and run with the sun
But your day will come

Do I remember when it was springtime
Braidin' daisy's in my hair
Now its December I stand on the freeway
In my soiled underwear

I don't care if you're beautiful and young
Your day will come
You sing in the rain and run with the sun
But your day will come

Your day will come
Yes it's true
Cause it's not your teeth that are decaying it's you

There's a light, burning so blinding
At the tollbooth up above
And it might be even more frightening if I could remember who I was

I don't care if you're beautiful and young
Your day will come
You sing in the rain and run with the sun
Go sing in the rain and go run with the sun
Your day will come
Oh yeah
Your day will come
Yes it will
Your day will come

Yes your day will come Lady Lydia
There will come a time when you step out of your bath
Wrap yourself in your wrap
Walk out of the door
Look left and right and decide to go left
Down the endless green corridor with lustre’s pink seashell windows
that gazes out over the mixalidian beach on either side
As the corridor becomes a course way you will find yourself Lady Lydia
making your way as if trough viscous fluid in a kind of elegant slow-motion
And as you turn and look behind you and your hair flicks around in a beautiful commercial curve around your head you will see an infinite numbers of your shadows following you
The ghosts of you five seconds ago, the ghosts of you ten seconds ago, the ghosts of you fifteen seconds ago
But they've gone
And in front the ghosts of your futures march ahead occasionally turning nervously looking over their shoulders to check that you Lady Lydia still following them trough the endless green course way
As you march trough the intestine of God you will notice the manifestation of divinity all around you
Old men in ... their niches
Sudden things cascading from the roof, ZOOT
The gradient increases beneath your feet and the light grows more diffuse
A hollow wind breezes against lamern soaked skin
The feature tightens as dawn caresses your eyelids
You fumble in your pocket for your keys
Keys to what
Keys mean there is a door somewhere
Where is the door, Lady Lydia?
The door is unexpectedly on the ceiling, you just walked past it
Fortunately one of your ghosts fifteen yards back catches the keys as you fling them to it
Who, agg
I ... twisting and a door is flung back
They killed another mosquito but then you're like that
They’re all so scared of you
It's time to climb out of the corridor and look around the mixalidian coastline
The azure blue above you and the purple flipping things on the beach all around
And then from the distance over the sea like the prisoners bubble
A pearl sphere gliding and bouncing across the still dawn water
Closer ad closer with no ghosts before or in front because this sphere is not of time
It is only of space, and it stops at your feet
Quivering, oh
Are you quavering or are you pleased to see me
Well, well, well if it isn't the Eiffel tower
Just coming over the other side
But it's not the Eiffel tower it's sinking back in to the water
At the end of the course way the black and white striped lighthouse
with the tomato on top pulses faith, faith, faith at you
.... in your faith
And there's the sphere, but how do you get down to it?
Well how do you get down to anything?
I mean
We just don't know