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"The Rebel on His Own Tonight" (Malcolm Middleton - Alan Bissett)

In the taxi queue they kicked the shit out of you,
All that you stood for was all that they hoped for.
Smashed in the back seat you tried to hold onto that,
But there’s a pain waiting back in your council flat.

The rebel’s on his own tonight.
The rebel’s all alone tonight.

On the classroom page you scribbled all your rage,
Syd Barrett chord change, Tyra McKenzie’s name.
Nights in the Maniqui dancing to Britney,
Wishing your home town, is wasnae so shitty.

The rebel’s on his own tonight.
The rebel’s all alone tonight.

Dreaming you are Stephen King, you are steaming,
You are watching The Wicker Man.
Marx and Engels and Kathy Acker,
Hide you your face inside your Parka.

The rebel’s on his own tonight.
The rebel’s all alone tonight.

Pure as vodka, pure as snow,
She kisses like it’s a terrorist act.
„Everything’s about ghosts you know,”
she said, then dressed, then packed.

Is it just me or is it cold in here?
Is it just me or is this place totally dead?

Buddhism, communism, post-post modernism,
You swallow them like sleeping pills.
And still you take them, still awake,
Those cats are scratching at your window sill.

Can I get a witness?
(yeah!)
I said, can I get someone to escort me back to my flat?
(naw)

So you’ve got a police record now, have you?
What is it, like? Walking On The Moon?
An auld joke, aye, ma Dad used to tell it
When he was knocking me about the fucking room.

Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?
And do you take this lawyer to separate you for life?

Thirty-two and where are you now?
Still hammering it? Still hanging on till the end?
But every time you go out clubbing, you take a drubbing
From somebody’s fucking boyfriend.

The rebel’s on his own tonight.
The rebel’s all alone tonight.