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Belle & Sebastian ~ The Boy With The Arab Strap


A mile and a half on a bus takes a long time The odour of old prison food takes a long time to pass you by When you've been inside Day upon day of this wandering gets you down Nobody gives you a chance or a dollar in this old town Hovering silence from you is a giveaway Squalor and smoke's not your style 'I don't like this place' We better go Then I compare notes with your older sister I am a lazy gett, she is as pure as the cold driven snow She accepts my confession What did you learn from your time in the solitary Cell of your mind? There was noises, distractions from anything good And the old prison food Colour my life with the chaos of trouble Cause anything's better than posh isolation 1 missed the bus You were laid on your back With the boy from the arab strap With the boy from the arab strap It's something to speak of the way you are feeling To crowds there assembled Do you ever feel you have gone too far? Everyone suffers in silence a burden The man who drives minicabs down in Old Compton The Asian man With his love hate affair With his racist clientele A central location for you is a must As you stagger about making free with your lewd and lascivious boasts We know you are soft cause we've all seen you dancing We know you are hard cause we all saw you drinking from noon Until noon again You're the boy with the filthy laugh You're the boy with the arab strap Strapped to the table with suits from the shelter shop Comic celebrity takes a back seat as the cigarette catches And sets off the smoke alarm What do you make of the cool set in London? You're constantly updating your hit parade of your ten biggest wanks She's a waitress and she's got style Sunday bathtime could take a while more free lyrics

A mile and a half on a bus takes a long time
The odour of old prison food takes a long time to pass you by
When you've been inside
Day upon day of this wandering gets you down
Nobody gives you a chance or a dollar in this old town

Hovering silence from you is a giveaway
Squalor and smoke's not your style
'I don't like this place'
We better go
Then I compare notes with your older sister
I am a lazy gett, she is as pure as the cold driven snow
She accepts my confession

What did you learn from your time in the solitary
Cell of your mind?
There was noises, distractions from anything good
And the old prison food
Colour my life with the chaos of trouble
Cause anything's better than posh isolation
1 missed the bus
You were laid on your back
With the boy from the arab strap
With the boy from the arab strap

It's something to speak of the way you are feeling
To crowds there assembled
Do you ever feel you have gone too far?
Everyone suffers in silence a burden
The man who drives minicabs down in Old Compton
The Asian man
With his love hate affair
With his racist clientele

A central location for you is a must
As you stagger about making free with your lewd and lascivious boasts
We know you are soft cause we've all seen you dancing
We know you are hard cause we all saw you drinking from noon
Until noon again
You're the boy with the filthy laugh
You're the boy with the arab strap

Strapped to the table with suits from the shelter shop
Comic celebrity takes a back seat as the cigarette catches
And sets off the smoke alarm
What do you make of the cool set in London?
You're constantly updating your hit parade of your ten biggest wanks
She's a waitress and she's got style
Sunday bathtime could take a while

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The Power of the Scene

When the lights dim and the first note is played, strangers become synchronized. The tremor when thousands sing together, and the melody that still echoes after the crowd disperses - this is an experience that no screen can convey. We look forward to the return of large-scale concerts to the essence of music, and we also look forward to small livehouses continuing to nourish the most vibrant soil of music.

Crossing Borders

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