Well, the fellas are loading up, in a hurry to get going. They want to cross the mountains before it starts snowing. And there’s a boy skipping town with money still owing. Outside the hotel, his girl’s waving to him And he doesn’t look away But he doesn’t look at her face. Yeah, he said he’d take her with him But that’s just something you say to women When you want to get laid. Outside the hotel, the girl turns around And looks at the buildings she calls her hometown. In the bar across the street she buys the locals a round And sits by the window, watching the snow falling down. And she’s glad the boy’s gone, He’d hung around too long. Yeah, he was good looking, But she knew she didn’t love him And she was getting scared that maybe he’d stay. And the snow on the ground Muffles the sound And all of that white Shines like a light. From the courthouse to the whorehouse On the edge of the town, There’s light, there’s light, Enough to go round. And the factory boys are heeding the bell. They all wish that they was leaving as well. How they got wives and children they never could tell, Their memories were clouded by that factory smell. They remembered playing in the woods And reading their school books But they didn’t remember agreeing To having trouble breathing And having trouble with all these bills they had to pay. And the snow on the ground Muffles the sound And all of that white Shines like a light. From the courthouse to the whorehouse On the edge of the town, There’s light, there’s light, Enough to go round. At a window there’s a dealer, watching the world turn pale. He reaches out his arm to read the falling snow like Braille. He reads a new way that he can tip the scales, And writes a message to his brother who’s gone back to jail. Yeah, he hurt the kid bad, But just doing his job as a dad. And he confessed in the end To fucking-up his daughter’s boyfriend. Well that prick won’t hurt no-one’s daughter again. And the snow on the ground Muffles the sound And all of that white Shines like a light. From the courthouse to the whorehouse On the edge of the town, There’s light, there’s light, Enough to go round.

I met her in a bar where it was too loud to talk. When we finished our drinks I asked her if she’d like to get one somewhere else. I started rolling a cigarette, and she took out a pack of long, thin, expensive-looking straights. “Menthol-tipped,” she said, “they taste great.” Well, we went looking for this bar, this basement bar, and we must’ve walked past it three times before we spied the entrance, went down the metal stairway and went inside. She said, “You look tired.” I asked her if I could get her something to drink. She just took off her coat and went and stood by the bar, and she looked beautiful and very far away. That’s when she told me, “I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.” We finished our drinks, split the bill and left. Stood under an archway smoking cigarettes. And I thought she might want to call it a night, might’ve had work in the morning, I knew I did. But I didn’t want her to leave, and I had to try, so I said, “Do you want to get one more drink with me? That place across the street looks alright.” And to my surprise, there we was, walking in the wind and the rain, our shoulders bumping together as I leant down to hear her saying, “I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.” We sat in a backroom and I asked her about her favourite playwrights and I realised that all night I hadn’t once made her smile and, selfishly, at the time I thought that was my fault. Then it really was late, Friday night and all the world was drunk apart from me and her. And then the long walk to the station, and then the bright lights of the station. And as we hugged goodbye she kissed me, for half a second, and her mouth was very cold. Then she turned from me and she was walking away. And I realise now if I’d have called her name again she’d have turned around again and would’ve stayed. On the train home, alone, I kept hearing her voice, just hearing her voice saying, “I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.”

I rang about the bill for the gas And I’ll pay you back for all these times I been short of cash. It’s dark in the hall. I’m sorry that you had to ask. I emptied the ashtrays, swept up all the broken glass, For you, And these promises I wear like a dress. I apologise and then I say, “Yes.” And now you’re saying that’s the least you could expect, Half two, sat on folding kitchen chairs. I’ll put all the bottles in the recycling, I’ll hang up the washing, I’ll take out the bins. I found my bank card but I’ve forgotten the PIN. And I been meaning to give the kitchen a clean, For you, And these promises I wear like a dress. I apologise and then I say, “Yes.” And now you’re saying that’s the least you could expect, Half two, sat on folding kitchen chairs. Half two, sat on folding kitchen chairs. I’ll buy more milk when the milk runs out, I’ll save up my money and buy you a house, I’ll get you a dog from the woman that I told you about And I’ll find a way to clean the wine stain from off the couch, For you, And these promises I wear like a dress. I apologise and then I say, “Yes.” And now you’re saying that’s the least you could expect, Half two, sat on folding kitchen chairs. Half two, sat on folding kitchen chairs.

I dreamt I had a twin But it’s just me now. Nothing really happened, Nothing to write home about, so I don’t. It’s just me down here and I don’t answer the phone. * In the court of the Assyrian kings, Me and the other girls singing and dancing, our golden bracelets glistening; And all of this could last forever, The braziers are burning, the night is heavy with pleasure And my body is beautiful and I am very young. Nineveh, Nineveh. Flowing water, Falling clay. Nineveh. The word of the Lord came to Jonah to say “Arise, go ye to Nineveh, That great city, And tell them that their wickedness has come up before me.” But Jonah fled from the word of the Lord, paid his fare on a ship to Tarshish. And the Lord sent a wind and the wind formed a storm And the sailors threw what they could overboard. When they found Jonah he was sleeping, Said, “Wake up, man, don’t you know you ought to be praying?” And they cast lots to see whose god was the cause, To know who to appease to be free of the storm and safe to port. Clutching the short straw, raising his voice against the rain, Jonah said, “Cast me into the sea and the sea shall be calm again.” And as he sank into the water, the storm ceased And Jonah was swallowed by something from the deep And three days he was held in the belly of Hell, Hid from the Lord in the darkness, he prayed, Nineveh, Nineveh. Flowing water, Falling clay. Nineveh. Nineveh was built on the east bank of the Tigris. Nineveh was built on chapter ten, verse eleven. Nineveh was built on a faultline that laid it low. Nineveh was sacked and rebuilt many times. An aqueduct brought water over seventy miles To irrigate Nineveh’s eighteen canals. In 2015, the Islamic State Captured Mosul and laid to waste the ruins of Nineveh And what was not bulldozed was sold By hypocrites, gangsters who would not know a soul If it stood before them stripped of its skin. Nineveh, Nineveh. Falling water, Flowing clay. Nineveh. I heard them ringing the bells to warn of the Hell To which we were going, whence Jonah was spat. They cried in the street,, “The king has decreed none shall eat! And sat In a pile of ash for a throne and taken sackcloth for a hat!” And Jonah walked to the wilderness above the city And under the sun, the Lord asked if he did well to be angry. In the pink dawn, as the sun rose, I served the girls, averting my gaze, as they laid in repose. I carried a jug of wine and for each a cup And the drink cooled their sweating bodies as the sun came up, And as they fell asleep in one another’s bangled arms I couldn’t see how they’d done the Lord any harm. * And sometimes I was ready, Sometimes I begged for one more day. I have cried in the desert And sung in the halls of Nineveh, Nineveh. Flowing water, Falling clay. Nineveh.