The Man Who Wrote Thriller - Little Comets

Picture the instant

When it dawns in your mind

That the things that you wanted

Were never so kind

How will you react

To this seminal moment?

To be down like a soldier

Left to pick all the fights

So many nights

When I’m wound up so tight

I just cling to the thoughts

That the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

With his dog

Getting on with his life

There’s hope in my bones

(My emotions will not tire)

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

Those several moments

That threaten to

Define your life completely

They devour like chips

From a cheap foam cup

On a beach in Whitby

If I ever get majestical

And grow perfunctory eyes

Just wind in my neck

And hope that I will be wise

So many nights

When I’m wound up so tight

I just cling to the thoughts

That the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

With his dog

Getting on with his life

There’s hope in my bones

(My emotions will not tire)

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

So many nights

When I’m wound up so tight

I just cling to the thoughts

That the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

With his dog

Getting on with his life

There’s hope in my bones

(My emotions will not tire)

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

While the man who wrote thriller

Lives in Scarborough

So daft that I nearly reacted to

The people with the manifold action

Who don’t see life as a body of water

So please bless me with a son or a daughter