Tart

Hear silver trumpets will trill in Arabic streets of Seville Oranges roll in the gutter And you pick them up And peel back the skin To the red fruit within But the flavour is Tart And the flavour is Tart Is it something you crave? And you say that you only feel bitterness When you know it's a lie, lie, lie Wild with a blackberry bush There were blossoms of cherries to crush There, at the edge of the asphalt tempting fingertips They stain your hand, press too hard They'll colour your lips But the flavour is Tart And the flavour is Tart Is it something you crave? 'Cos you say that you only feel bitterness Would it kill you to show us a little sweetness? Repeat chorus Odd, where nothing else grows It was something like love that she chose Always a creature of habit When pity would do She wore down that heel with no feeling She kept on her shoes Repeat chorus Nylon was hung from a peg And a kohl black seam ran down her leg Fishermen look for their nets And send their regrets The bug lay there broken She spoke, "Is this some kind of joke?" But the flavour is Tart