Your Thieving Hands

Having tweeted the LP sleeve, I felt I needed to at least do a couple of tuneless - in so much as they are pretend and have no tunes - songs.

This is the first song I wrote for the album. Like all good gothic alt-country songs, it was written late into the night, after an evening at the bar, on an old envelope.

Thank you, thank you. We are Greville and the Tombstones. Now, here is a song I wrote [oh yes – I should say at this point, I did an introductory dedication bit, as is customary to any country song] for a girl. Yeah, a girl. I don’t think she’ll ever know it’s for her. But it is. Not that she’ll care. Will You, Sara-Lou!
Anyway this is one I call – Your Thieving Hands.

You took my heart,

I did not give it,

You could’ve had part,

But that wasn’t your game.

You’ve got it caged,

Somewhere very secret,

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

You say it was,

Anyone’s for the takin’,

But if it’s truly yours,

Why can I feel it breakin’?

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

A crooked act,

Of your own doin’,

You smoked it out,

The night we drank.

I had sweeter plans

For my heart a-brewin’

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

And now I’m on,

Experimental medication,

My blood is circulated

By machine intervention

The electrics need cooled, by twelve fans

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

Sara-Lou you sonovabitch!