Bad Ambassador - The Divine Comedy

Postcards and letters T-shirts and sweaters Passports and Parkas Mobiles and chargers Two tennis rackets Blue Rizla packets A new sheep-skin jacket I lost it all All through my life there have been Many rare and precious things I have tried to call mine But I just cannot seem To keep hold of anything For more than a short time Possessions of a sentimental kind They were mine, now they're not Gym-kits and trainers Asthma inhalers Silk-cuts and Bennies Ten-packs and twenties C-class narcotics Antibiotics The holes in my pockets I lost it all All that I'd like is to know Just where do those lost things go? When they slip from my hands Then one night in a dream I passed through a sheepskin screen To a green, pleasant land I found them all piled up into the sky And I cried tears of joy

It was not that long ago it first occurred to me That my mother was a person in her own right And now I realize how very lucky I have been And there, but for the grace of God, go I, go I Mother dear, she can see inside Mother dear, and I've nowhere to hide Mother dear, did I spoil your plans? Mother dear, I do the best I can When I was a teenager, I really did believe That my parents had adopted me And the way I carried on they must have thought They'd brought the wrong little baby home from maternity Well, I'd like to say I'm sorry but my Mother dear, she already knows Mother dear, she'll never let me go Mother dear, kept me warm and safe Mother dear, I'll never lose my faith in mother dear If I ever get arrested by the C.I.A. Because they take me for a foreign spy They won't need no lie-detector, all they'll have to do Is make me look into my mother's eyes And I'll tell them anything they like Mother dear, she can see inside Mother dear, and I've nowhere to hide Mother dear, kept me warm and safe Mother dear, I'll never lose my faith in mother dear Mother dear, mother dear My mother dear Mother dear, did I spoil your plans? Mother dear, I do the best I can

Give me your love And I'll give you the perfect lovesong With a divine Beatles bassline And a big old Beach Boys sound I'll match you pound for pound Like heavy-weights in the final round We'll hold on to each other So we don't fall down Give me a wink And I'll give you what I think you're after With just one kiss I will whisk you away To where angels often tread We'll paint this planet red We'll stumble back to our hotel bed And make love to each other 'Til we're half dead Maybe now you can see Just what you mean to me Give me your love And I'll give you the perfect lovesong Give me your word That you'll be true to me always come what may Forever and a day No matter what other people may say We'll hold on to each other 'Til we're old and grey

This book deals with epiphenomenalism, Which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence... Makes no difference... whatever are you doing?" Aphra Benn: Hello Cervantes: Donkey Daniel Defoe: To christen the day! Samuel Richardson: Hello Henry Fielding: Tittle-tattle Tittle-tattle... Lawrence Sterne: Hello Mary Wolstencraft: Vindicated! Jane Austen: Here I am! Sir Walter Scott: We're all doomed! Leo Tolstoy: Yes! Honoré de Balzac: Oui... Edgar Allen Poe: Aaaarrrggghhhh! Charlotte Brontë: Hello... Emily Brontë: Hello... Anne Brontë: Hellooo.? Nikolai Gogol: Vas chi Gustav Flaubert: Oui William Makepeace Thackeray: Call me 'William Makepeace Thackeray' Nathaniel Hawthorne: The letter 'A' Herman Melville: Ahoy there! Charles Dickens: London is so beautiful this time of year... Anthony Trollope: good-good-good-good evening! Fyodor Dostoevsky: Here come the sleepers... Mark Twain: I can't even spell 'Mississippi'! George Eliot: George reads German Emile Zola: J'accuse Henry James: Howdy Miss Wharton! Thomas Hardy: Ooo-arrr! Joseph Conrad: I'm a bloody boring writer... Katherine Mansfield: (cough cough) Edith Wharton: Well hello, Mr James! DH Lawrence: Never heard of it EM Forster: Never heard of it! Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own; He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today' James Joyce: Hello there! Virginia Woolf: I'm losing my mind! Marcel Proust: Je me'en souviens plus F Scott Fitzgerald: baa bababa baa Ernest Hemingway: I forgot the... Hermann Hesse: Oh es ist alle so häßlich Evelyn Waugh: Whoooaarr! William Faulkner: Tu connait William Faulkner? Anaïs Nin: The strand of pearls Ford Maddox Ford: Any colour, as long as it's black! Jean-Paul Sartre: Let's go to the dome, Simone! Simone de Beauvoir: C'est exact present Albert Camus: The beach... the beach Franz Kafka: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! Thomas Mann: Mam Graham Greene: Call me 'pinky', lovely Jack Kerouac: Me car's broken down... William S Burroughs: Woww! Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own; He who has life and strength enough to say Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today Kingsley Amis: (cough) Doris Lessing: I hate men! Vladimir Nabokov: Hello, little girl... William Golding: Achtung Busby! JG Ballard: Instrument binnacle Richard Brautigan: How are you doing? Milan Kundera: I don't do interviews Ivy Compton Burnett: Hello... Paul Theroux: Have a nice day! Günter Grass: I've found snails! Gore Vidal: Oh, it makes me mad! John Updike: Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run... Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap! Malcolm Bradbury: stroke John Steinbeck, stroke JD Salinger Iain Banks: Too orangey for crows! AS Byatt: Nine tenths of the law, you know... Martin Amis: (burp) Brett Easton Ellis: Aaaaarrrggghhh! Umberto Eco: I don't understand this either... Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Mi casa es su casa Roddy Doyle: ha ha ha! Salman Rushdie: Names will live forever...