Tongue Like a Knife 
      The head of a hunt on the wall by a painting 
      An upright piano stood locked by the door 
      In through the window 
      The light was fast fading 
      While I spilt my whiskey 
      All over the floor 

      Making a mess of my words so 
      I was trying 
      To impress the Empress with 
      My wimpy tales 
      Fanning her face from cigar smoke 
      And sighing 
      I had come close to be miles 
      From her trail 

      She was the jewel that 
      Sparkled in darkness 
      She was the love 
      Of everyone's life 
      She was the catch at 
      Everyone's parties 
      She was the one with a tongue 
      Like a knife 

      Her bosoms curved perfectly 
      Lit by the fire 
      My mind launched away 
      In a sea of its own 
      Her grace and her tightness 
      I had to admire 
      Through a whore's breath of stories 
      I happily told 

      Trespassing my hand 
      Fell into hot water 
      She shot like a bullet 
      Right out of her chair 
      She led me away and I 
      Was then slaughtered 
      By the warmth of her body 
      And her love and care 

      Her tongue cut away 
      And the wounds slowly opened 
      I lay on the sails of the 
      Ship of romance 
      Drunk as I could be and 
      Broker than broken and 
      The head of my hunt 
      Was there in my hands

      (c) 1982 Illegal Songs (BMI)

  • FROM THE ALBUM: Sweets From a Stranger.
  • COMPILATIONS: Excess Moderation.
  • From the Excess Moderation sleevenotes. Glenn: Working class lad mixes with the upper crust and comes a cropper. With a tune inspired by Marc Bolan. Chris: This could only be an album track, like so much of this last album before the breakup, the power had been reduced by too much touring, the go had gone from the team, along with the marbles.
  • The orchestral flourish at the conclusion quotes the melody of "My Favourite Things" from The Sound of Music.