Pete Atkin sings
Secret Drinker

by Clive James and Pete Atkin,
from Secret Drinker

[Much more at www.peteatkin.com]

LYRIC:

Perching high like an old-time man of law
He travels on a barstool to enchanted lands
And as the world before him swims and glows
The secret drinker's only sure that he is real
By the feel of his elbows and the steadily increasing
Weight of his forehead in his hands

          And behind the bar
          Like turreted and battlemented towns of long ago
          The lines of coloured bottles swim and glow
          Brilliantly as at the day of wrath
          Or the year of the comet
          But the secret drinker is far from it
          Away from it all

     He can ease the present back into the past
     Staring at the pastels and the prisms on the shelf
     With the magic words that make the evening last
     The same again and have one for yourself

          He's a connoisseur
          He can space it out with chasers, he can let it burn
          It's a trick it takes a little while to learn
          You might see the youngsters of today sniff a cork
               and they vomit
          But the secret drinker is far from it
          Away from it all

     He can make the looming future lose its sting
     Staving off the pressure is a bargain at the price
     Of the magic words that make the angels sing
     The same again, go easy on the ice

Perching high like an old-time man of law
He travels on a barstool to enchanted lands
And as the world before him swims and glows
The secret drinker's only sure that he is real
By the feel of his elbows and the steadily increasing
Weight of his forehead in his hands that should be ceasing
To tremble by now and beginning to resemble
The hands of a man he used to know