Johnny was reluctant for lyrics to be put up on the site. Here's what she had to say about this questionable practice.

"I don't approve of song lyrics written down. It's like cutting up a mouse in a school biology class - once you've slit it open and investigated its innards you know how it moves and how it breaths, but once you've done it, the mouse can neither move nor breath - it's a dead thing. Sometimes it's better just to believe…

However this is a historical document - the songs feel like ghosts to me now anyway, and besides Peter insisted.

My favourite misheard lyric is from 'Waterloo Sunset' - for years I thought "Terry meets Julie…" was "Tearing me stupid…" and as with all misheard lyrics, it was one of my favourites ever. Which goes to show that sometimes it's better to hear what you want to and not listen to what you're told. For the short lived group that Andrew and I were in after The Siddeleys a guitarist came to us solely on the basis of "…or do you look down on Lou Reed?" in 'My Favourite Wet Wednesday Afternoon". As you can see, Lou Reed was never mentioned in that song, but the boy thought it was our finest lyrical moment. And in one way, in one place, it probably was…"

Johnny at the piano at BBC studios, Maida Vale

My Favourite Wet Wednesday Afternoon

The sight of the façade of the Palace Hotel, Southend
With every sense I think of you - it sends me round the bend
"Love that moves the sun in heaven, and all the stars…"
This is just a fraction of what is rightfully ours

Please whirl me around
There's no earthly reason
No earthly reason
There is no earthly reason
For darkness after dawn…

It's not that I want to be rich, I just want to be heroically poor
Money may buy happiness, but you can give me more
I want back my favourite wet Wednesday afternoon
I'll take my dreams to the grave with me
If you don't say something soon…

Please whirl me around
There's no earthly reason
No earthly reason
There is no earthly reason
For a boy to burn

The Peak Frean's factory pumping smoke reminds me of the past
Of waking up quite terrified, of always coming last
Are you, like me, looking up at the sky?
Or do you look down as you read?
"The red apples are the sweetest," he said, but green is the colour for me…

Please whirl me around
There's no earthly reason
No earthly reason
There is no earthly reason
For rotting fruit to fall…

The smell of chips on a summer evening in Southend -
With every sense I think of you, it sends me round the bend
"Love that moves the sun in heaven, and all the stars…"
This is just a fraction of what is rightfully ours

Please whirl me around
There's no earthly reason
No earthly reason
There is no earthly reason
For a boy to burn…

contemplating in Camden Town 1988

You Get What You Deserve

Someone put a rope around my neck on that day I was born
So if I fall I do not stumble, just go straight to hell
There's a small red scar upon my wrist
To remind me of the joy that could exist
If I wasn't built of mud and grime and sorrow

I was never meant for such sweetness -

Every day between one and two
I want to be in the park with you
But the thing that I most want to do
I'm not allowed to…
Sometimes I think I'd rather be beneath a train
Than ever having to say goodbye to you again
But you get what you deserve

I was never meant for such sweetness -
I came so close to happiness

There's nothing more you need to know
I won't give you my woes
Just hurry up and go
And keep good thoughts of me…

Someone put a rope around my neck on that day I was born
So if I fall I do not stumble, just go straight to hell
There's a small red scar upon my wrist
To remind me of the joy that could exist
If I wasn't built of mud and grime and sorrow

Give me an inch, I'll take a mile
Better give me nothing I've learnt to be lonely and smile…

Every day between one and two
I want to be in the park with you
But the thing that I most want to do
I'm not allowed to…
Sometimes I think I'd rather be beneath a train
Than ever having to say goodbye to you again
But you get what you deserve

Be strong be silent, be strong be silent
And I'll be strong and silent
I came so close to happiness
I came so close to happiness
I came so close to happiness it makes me cry

You get what you deserve
You get what you deserve
You get what you deserve
You get what you deserve

mudlarks in Chelsea

When I Grow Up, I'll Be A God…

Your open heart defies defeat
I've been watching you by the radiator for days
I bite my lip and I curse my graceless face -
It just gets worse and worse and worse every day…

When I grow up I'll be a god
The last thing I want to be is human
Wrap me up in what I want
I'm not wanton, but I'm willing…

Dogged by defeat at every step -
Mortality is crueller than the sea
Though your open heart defies defeat
It's nothing by the vast victory mine will be

When I grow up I'll be a god
The last thing I want to be is human
Wrap me up in what I want
I'm not wanton, but I'm willing…

Wrap me up in what I want
The last thing I want to be is human
When I grow up I'll be a god
I'm not wanton, but I'm willing…

view from the roof of the rehearsal studio in Kentish Town, London

Theft

Please, bad uncle, leave my crooners alone -
If you take one step closer to me
I'll stifle on the smell of your butch cologne
Bad uncle - don't touch that dial
They touch my heart while you touch with hate
They make me forget, and they make me smile -
Let them sing…
(Let me go)
Don't tell me the music's too loud
To add to your other dark curses…

Please, bad uncle, leave my crooners alone -
As long as your shadow fills these rooms
'A song and a sob' - this is my only home
Why don't you go out and trash your car?
(The sight of your big manly clothes on the line
Should show everyone the monster you are)
Let them sing…
(Let me go)
Don't tell me the music's too loud
To add to your other dark curses
'Oh take these lips I want to lose them…'
But uncle just wants to abuse them…

deck chairs in Margate by Andrew Brown

Sunshine Thuggery

The rain has washed the pavements
But it cannot clean my heart
I'm trying to find peace of mind
But I don't know where to start -
Sixty-seven paths to run down and every one is wrong
Confusion reigns, confusion gains -
It's been going on far to long
Sometimes I just want to write you letters every day
There are six-hundred things of gross importance that I have to say
But my world is weary and I've nothing left to give
And sometimes I just want to be left alone to live

I've got a bit of a thing about you
I've got a bit of a thing about you

I'd do something hellishly foolish if you came round tonight
Brandy talks and sanity walks away and everything seems bright
I'll never, ever, ever clutch at anyone's hand again
If I wrap myself in these four walls I'll never do wrong again
And sometimes I think thoughts of you that I shouldn't think
It makes me turn, it makes me turn, it makes me turn to drink
Sixty-seven paths to run down and every one is wrong
Confusion reigns, confusion gains - it's been going on far too long -

I've got a bit of a thing about you
I've got a bit of a thing about you
No, I lied -
I've got a hell of thing about you
I've got a hell of a thing about you, honey…

A-Side label of the Sunshine Thuggery 12"

Are You Still Evil When You're Sleeping?

It's looking grim; every time I look at him
I watch the world spiral ever downwards, spiral ever downwards
You don't even bother to hide behind
The wall of filth embraced by your kind
Just - stomach out with your vile mind like a medal on your chest

Are you still evil when you're sleeping?
Does every drowsy breath breathe harm?
Are you still evil when you're sleeping?
Does every drowsy breath breathe harm?

It's looking grim; every time I look at him
I see centuries of endless tears
And people kept locked up for years
And girls whose dark and dreadful crime was staying out alone after nine
How criminal!

Are you still evil when you're sleeping?
Does every drowsy breath breathe harm?
Are you still evil when you're sleeping?
Does every drowsy breath breathe harm?

You are the Saint of Ignorance
Each night you bathe in poison thoughts
You are wisdom's septic wound
And will not, will not be taught
You are a well respected man -
I want to trample on you
I want to make you suffer
I want to kick your teeth in…

It's looking grim - every time I look at him
I watch the world spiral ever downwards -
Are you still evil when you're sleeping?
Does every drowsy breath breathe harm?
You are still evil when you're sleeping
And every drowsy breath breathes scum and spew and harm
You are still evil when you're sleeping and every drowsy breath breathes harm.

Kentish Town 1987

Love With Blood

He's only wanting love with blood
Scratches them slightly, but they scream too much
Still craving inky fingers
His words are milk and stone
He'll turn a minute into years

Caress my bones and leave my flesh alone
There are much warmer things to take home
Still craving inky fingers
His words are mild and stone
He'll turn a minute into years

You're not alone…

First ever photo-session, Turpentine Lane, London 1986, left to right: Phil, Andrew, Johnny and Allan

What Went Wrong This Time?

Watch me break free
Watch me break free
Watch me break free
I'm devastated by what I saw today

I know I'll never win
Why me? Why me?
Accused of someone else's sin
What went wrong this time?

Watch me break free
Watch me break free
Watch me break free
I'm devastated by what I heard today

Dereliction makes me sad
It hurts, it hurts
The smell of petrol's just as bad
What went wrong this time

I won't be carved
I won't be carved
I won't be carved
I won't be carved

Watch me break free
Watch me break free
Watch me break free
I'm devastated by what I know today

My heart pumps empty veins
It's dead, it's dead
I will not bend that way again
What went wrong this time?

B-Side label of What Went Wrong This Time?

No Names…

You make me fall, you make me crawl
I almost told you, I almost told you, I almost told you at the back of the loading bay
This is so hard to bear…

I can't stand up, I can't stand up, I can't stand up
Sink this way with me -

You make me fall, you make me crawl
I can't stand up, I can't stand up, I can't stand up
Sink this way with me, deeper down with me
Deeper down and burden bound with me

No names, not again
Oh, not again, no names…

Relaxing after doing the ton on the North Circular Road (A406)

Bedlam on the Mezzanine

Crash the gate, don't be late, the boys at The Mecca will not wait
It's half past nine, the bus is on time and the coloured bulbs beckon to the shrine
Of the high-heeled place with the chewing gum face, of beer and hairspray and the thrill of the chase,
Outside, in the car park, desperate love-stuff in the dark

I hope tomorrow never comes, every moment should be like this
I hope tomorrow never comes, I want to go in a blaze of bliss

Mary for Paul on the concrete wall - write it large and no harm will befall this boy/girl dream
But a silent scream means all's not as perfect as it seems
Smashed compact mirror means seven years of high-rise nothing and endless tears
Washing lines, TV times, petty rows and petty crimes

I hope tomorrow never comes - I need to crawl into a kiss
Six months may be half a year, but it's forever when it's spent like this -
Tied up trust…

It just leads to monstrous scenes
Bedlam on the mezzanine
It just leads to monstrous scenes -
Better then, to sob in silence…

Allan tuning up

Bribes and Bruises

What will you take home tonight?
Second hand trauma or shop soiled dirt?
What will you tell the old girl when there's only your home and the bus and your work?

Corrugated iron and a truant afternoon
Conceived, bore and destroyed my dream…

While they bribed and bruised you
You just stood and stared
Better to betray yourself than to live with a wardrobe that's tatty and bare

Corrugated iron and a truant afternoon
Conceived, bore and destroyed my dream…

Why aren't you ashamed that you never tore their throats out?
Why aren't you ashamed that you never ripped your heart out?

Each day you sigh and watch the clock - can things get more mundane?
(As the old crone gives a guide to last night's tea over and over and over again)

There was a time of triumph at the firing range at the fair
Oh, how I loved the smell of vile vinegar in your hair

hile they bribed and bruised you
You just stood and stared
Better to betray yourself than to live with a wardrobe that's tatty and bare

There was a time of triumph at the firing range at the fair
Oh, how I loved the smell of vile vinegar in your hair

Why aren't you ashamed that you never tore their throats out?
Why aren't you ashamed that you never ripped your heart out,
That you didn't turn from treason,
That you had no worthy reason for your fall?

Waiting for a brown envelope at the back of the loading bay

Falling Off of My Feet again…

I want no more of violence
I want no more of this
I caught a glimpse of heavan on the night we nearly kissed
But the lycanthrope walks easily where angels fear to tread -
I'll never be man enough for you, so I'll kick a can instead
I'll kick a can instead, I'll kick a can instead

Sun, rain, a clammy train
Treading the shingle - it's always the same
Sun, rain, an empty train -
I'm falling off of my feet again

I want no more of violence, I want no more of this
Every time we talk, I feel the tragedy of our tryst:
But the longing of the night gives way
To the darkness of the dawn
I'll never be man enough for you
And I wish I wasn't born, oh I wish I wasn't born
I wish I wasn't born…

Sun, rain, a clammy train
Treading the shingle - it's always the same
Sun, rain, an empty train -
I'm falling off of my feet again

Sun, rain, a clammy train
You're so vain, oh you're so vain
Sun, rain, an empty train -
I'm falling off of my feet again
I'm falling off of my feet again
I'm falling off of my feet again…

The fashionable and highly desirable Siddeleys badge

Wherever You Go

I want to spray paint your name on every road
So people walk on you wherever they go
The awesome wonder of that first fragile moment -
Like a lamb to the slaugter, weakness makes me the devil's daughter
Like a lamb to the slaughter - I'd rather dream of you…

I wish you'd make mistakes (but that could never be true)
Then people would laugh at you whatever you'd do
The awesome wonder of that first fragile moment -
Like a lamb to the slaugter, weakness makes me the devil's daughter
Like a lamb to the slaughter - I'd rather dream of you…

Catch me when I dream…

Live at Rough Trade shop Covent Garden 1988

Something Almost Brilliant Happened Last Night

Something almost brilliant happened last night
I can't believe how easy it seemed
Now in the morning - disbelief and trembling fingers;
After all, it must have been a dream…
Is this the start of something good, something golden?
I'm frightened and ecstatic at the thought.
If this goes wrong, I'm deeper - deeper in the throes of darkness
I won't escape the next time that I'm caught…

Meanwhile I'm just sitting at my window looking out
Hoping for a different view some day to come about
But where to go, and what to do? There is no answer here -
I dread that I'll be sitting here this very day next year…

Something almost brilliant happened last night
I can't believe how easy it seemed
Now in the morning - disbelief and trembling fingers
After all, it must have been a dream…

Meanwhile I'm just sitting at my window looking out
Hoping for a different view some day to come about
But where to go, and what to do? There is no answer here -
I dread that I'll be sitting here this very day next year…

Staring still, empty handed, lonely in my tired linen
A clockface is a memory of doom -
A cloud of sweatpeas has gone brown;
I picked them, then I watched them drown
Decay fills every corner of my room
There is no strength in reaching out
My head is filled with love and doubt…

Live at 'The Front Door To Babylon' at The Black Horse, Camden Town, 1987

Every Day of Every Week

Staring at the glitter ball
I cannot bare this holy dancehall
And sometimes when I look at you
I wish I did the things that other girls do…

I want instant everything please
I've and all or nothing streak
I want instant everything please

Every day of every week
I watch the railway
I see the future's bleak

I want instant everything please
I know I can - I've dreamt such dreams
I want instant everything please
Jilly doesn't have to try
I wonder why I can't be like her;
So sacred, so sacred…

Staring at the glitter ball
I cannot bear this hell-hole dance hall
I want instant everything please
Every day of every week
I want instant everything please…

He has such shirts and shoes
I'd drive into the sea for you
But there are things I cannot do
I want instant everything now
But contradiction clothes me like a shroud
I want instant everything now

Jilly doesn't have to try
I wonder why I can't be like her -
Heaven's her world…

North London 1987

I Wish I Was Good…

Yeah, I wish you could see
That I really could shine, shine -
I wish you could see
With your dark blonde voice
And your mud-stumble shoes
And your social security cheque, you can't lose
You could offer me injury - I won't refuse
You're constantly gaining but you give what you choose

Oh, how did you ever learn
To talk so that people scream?
Oh how did you learn
With your brown eyes waiting for someone to drown
And your black leather wardrobe and your Brando-boy frown
In the way that an army can cancel a town,
You've only to half grin and I'm on the ground

Yeah, I wish I was good
To leave behind all false dreams
I wish I was good
While the lines on your face talk of times yet unknown
And your knuckles are white with the seeds to be sown
I'd sacrifice solitude to know you alone
But I can't give my soul and I won't take you home
With your brown eyes waiting for someone to drown
And your fall apart wardrobe and your Brando-boy frown
In the way that an army can cancel a town,
You've only to half grin and I'm on the ground
With your dark blonde voice and your mud-stumble shoes,
Your social security cheque, you can't lose
Offer me injury, I won't refuse
While you're constantly gaining, you give what you choose

I wish I was good
Maybe some day…

all words and music by Johnny Johnson