Pop: Lyric Sheets

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The Independent Culture
Jimmy Page and Robert Plant are playing Wembley tonight

So wrapped in Frankie's afghan

coat

I sat around the freezing flat

With Old Dansette plus coffee

rings

More hippie tat than Habitat

Because this girl I liked so much

Had packed me in for various

crimes

I played since `I've Been Loving

You'

Approximately sixty times.

More drugged on teen stupidity

Than anything we might have

scored

We leapt around the room a lot

That's how we broke the ironing

board

But as our new found heroes

then

Were travelling in their touring

bus

Or hanging out at Bron-Y-Aur

It's doubtful that they noticed us

By Fireglow bulbs on winter

nights

We had the figures there to hand

Two hundred thousand album

sleeves

Were skinned-up on, in bedsit

land

And from the way the very walls

Would warp to Pagey's filthy riff

We knew that Zeppelin had the

power

To reach the parts untouched by

Cliff.

The carthorse drums, the organ

sound

Were of a church much darker

then

The singer's scream would tell

us

To be jealous of the backdoor

men

And sweetly inarticulate

A bird of youth sat screeching

there:

"B-b-Baby-baby-baby-baby

Baby-baby. Uh-uh yeaahh!"

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