As a massive Pulp fan it’s easy to understand why Cocker’s lyrics would be considered poetry. so for purely selfish enjoyment, here are a couple of my favorite musings by this beautiful Britpop front man…
“Mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits.
Raised on a diet of broken biscuits, oh we don’t look the same as you
We don’t do the things you do, but we live around here too.”
“I took her to a supermarket
I don’t know why but I had to start it somewhere, so it started there.
I said pretend you’ve got no money, she just laughed and said oh you’re so funny.
I said yeah? Well I can’t see anyone else smiling in here.”
“Well I guess it couldn’t ast too long.
I came home one day and all her things were gone, I fell asleep inside.
I never heard her come. And then she opened up her wardrobe and I had to get it on.
Oh, listen we were on the bed when you came home, I heard you stop outside the door.
I know you won’t believe it’s true, I only went with her ‘cus she looks like you, my God.”
“Well we were born within one hour of each other.
Our mothers said we could be sister and brother.
Your name is Deborah. Deborah. It never suited ya.”
“Help the aged,
one time they were just like you,
drinking, smoking cigs and sniffing glue. Help the aged,
don’t just put them in a home,
can’t have much fun in there all on their own.”
“No wonder you’re looking thin
When all that you live on is lipgloss and cigarettes.
And scraps at the end of the day
When he’s given the rest to sommetaeone with long black hair.”