Berties Brochures lyrics

August the 20th: Yes, folks, it`s another cold, clammy day in England. A large crowd has gathered around the police station. Everybody--EVERYBODY--wishes to have contact with a certain little Irish writer within. Not to discuss his works, though the works are known to them; they`ve been published in the tabloid papers by the police under the heading `;Barbaric Butcher`s Brochures`;. No, they want to tear his very head from his body, for what it is alleged he did in the way of mortal damage to two soldiers in a nearby public lavatory. The night draws in. Nobody would say a word about him, except a fool like me [(and his skin)].

In rainy Ireland in the 50`s
There outside a pink farmhouse door
A small Bertie, playing at digging trenches,
asks, `;Daddy, what`s the blowtorch for?`;
He said, `;The torch will cut the cars to turn them into sculpture
so I can express what I feel. The college men may laugh,
the farmers persecute me, but I do for myself. So should you.`;

Come look at Bertie`s brochures
You`ll be enchanted, I am sure
The whole world`s in Bertie`s brochures:
All the wisdom, the smiles of dear friends

Through freakshow Britain, through the Eighties
Bertie works in labs, though his father`s aims still endure
though only at night does he do his real work
Learning, writing his brochures...

for he still believes that everyone`s a poet
and that all he has to do is to set it down
and so transform the milkman,
the waitress and the gunman into immortal ART!!

Now they`re laughing at Bertie`s brochures
Detectives with crowbars and skewers
They see things in Bertie`s brochures:
Their own hatred of all other races and their fear

Don`t laugh at Bertie`s brochures
He woul
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