Lyric Sheets

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The Independent Culture
Tom Jones plays Cardiff International Arena tonight

Along Came Jones

Alighting from the cars

Down Mary Ann Street

In a clip-clop rush

Of pony feet.

Their handbags stuffed

With mobile phones

All bubble-cuts

And helpless moans

They were normal once

Then along came Jones

Jones the Voice

From Pontypridd.

A local, vocal monolith

A swivel of the hips

A pucker of the lips

To loosen catches

Hooks and zips

As women of a certain age

Rain underwear

Upon the stage Straight to the States

And rightly so

Could have been a


Didn't want to know.

Far too many little boys

Smoking Tunis


Worth his weight

In microphones

Vegas waited.

Along came Jones

The knickers?

They're a legend now

To wipe the sex-god's

Soaking brow.

It's not unusual

With Tom Jones

This monarch of

The Glenda zones

He must be

Drinking pheromones