Gran lyrics

Artist  : Hitchcock Robyn 
Song : Gran



 Send "Gran" Ringtone to your Cell 

 Alone and pointless by her mouldering self,
she stares at the tin of sardines on the
shelf.
By a parafin lamp in a dingy brown
room,
Gran sits and broods in the thickening
gloom.
It's a gloom that congeals it's so
greasy and thick,
You could cut into strips
and roast on a stick.
And hand round to
friends, but there's nobody there,
just
Gran, on her own, in a miserable chair.
So
don't point it at me, point it at Gran.
She
needs it more than I do, and more than Princes
Anne.
When Princess Anne's 82 and living in
a room room flat in Hackney,
maybe she could
do ... with a bit as well.
Don't point it me,
don't point at it yourself.
Just point it at
Gran and the sardines on the shelf.
Don't
point it at me, I've had more than enough.
Just point it at Gran, she could do with plenty
of stuff.
Don't point it at me, point it
Gran.
Well, it could be a firehose, or it
could be a flan.
Now, some people are happy
and some people are bored,
and some people
are left and completely ignored.
So why
should your life end on a dismal note?