what the butler saw 
    (Difford/Tilbrook) 

    WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see. 
     

      Pacing through the flickering light 
      A velvet patch upon his eye 
      His pacing creaks the floorboards loose 
      As he tailors his thoughts for the truth around truths 
      But his butler keeps eyes through a hole in the door 
      What the butler don't see ain't a lot that's for sure 

      Francesca lays across the couch 
      They fight with words from mouth to mouth 
      And then with handfuls of her flesh 
      See how the zipper broke off of her dress 
      Strangling her neck with his hands in her gloves 
      The port and the brandy mix cocktails of love 

      The porchlight, the torchlight 
      The frosted morning lawn 
      The cloak of daylight has finally been drawn 
      On the tale of what the butler saw 

      He kept his world all to himself 
      And locked it tight inside his belt 
      But she preferred his belt undone 
      She bathed in his fortune but never his fun 
      He cracked on a mixture of opera and drink 
      The butler still fetches and carries for him 

      The butler dragged down to the lake 
      Francesca's body in a cape 
      No private eye was gonna trace this 
      The old man was shaking, his marbles were missed 
      The shadows and footprints and flickering lights 
      The butler's up late with a cold in his eye 

      The porchlight the torchlight the frosted morning lawn 
      The cloak of daylight has finally been drawn 
      On the tale of what the butler saw 
       

    Reckoned by Christopher Beckett and Roy Methley 


  • The B-side to "Pulling Mussels (From the Shell)".
  • COMPILATIONS: Piccadilly Collection, Excess Moderation.
  • From the Excess Moderation sleevenotes. Glenn: Also featuring strings by Del Newman, this track was bumped off Argybargy at the insistence of Miles Copeland, who said it was too Barry Manilow. Who am I to argue with him? Chris: Musical management at its best, where chords greet lyrics with understanding and melody lines charm rhyme from the page.
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