Pink Light Bulb

Welcome to the town that tour guides induce
North American spunk-bubbles to come find their roots
It’s just a spec of dust
On a pink lightbulb
It’s just a single twig in the river
That runs around the back of this town
Where the paint is stripped
And the wall paper’s peeling
Tourists only see it in their peripheral
When they’re looking for the stone circle
They’ll never find them up there on the shittest hill in the world
But nonetheless a hill
Where litter collects and late at night
Teenage fantasies are met
No, it’s not quite Kaya Scodalario
Well, it could be if you want but I was always too frightened
To let it get as exciting as that
I’d prefer to watch whilst the wheels came off

And legs would collapse under the weight of consumption
Yeah, it’s never quite pink lightbulbs
It’s almost like I never… I never looked hard enough
But I’ve seen the underbelly
Of the tourist trail

I’ve seen people pissing on the rock
That overlooks the bay
I’ve heard people at it in the flats above
The quaint bookshop-cum-café
I’ve seen up past the bed and breakfasts
And the county league training grounds
Where late at night, we’ve trekked across
So as not to be found
I’ve seen people screwing against the wildlife guide plaques
I’ve seen people banging tabs in the bat sanctuary
Well, all that broken glass must have come from somewhere
No, it’s not from the sea

When they see that little secondary school
With its culturally invoking crest
Oh, yeah, but in there there’s teenage lust brewing
It’s close to spewing out and submerging the town in a flood

That happened once but it was just rainwater
It was exciting stuff
To see it all ground to halt
Things got weird and people had to stay at other people’s houses
Until the water went down
And these kind of afternoons are when girls find out
That the boys they thought were just friends
Are actually ‘the one’ and they go up to her bedroom
Whilst her mum is putting sandbags down in the door of the salon
And get it on

Pink lightbulbs and clothes and Bombay mix lips
Nuclear fingertips
The internet is slow but there’s about twenty places
To get a coffee to go
Maybe we could go?