Basil Lyrics - Tracker - Mark Knopfler

My Saturday job pays six and six down 

A copy boy at the Chronicle 

Five cigarettes and two silver half crowns 

Meeting Vince at Mark Toney's in town 

Boy, do we get around 

Basil sits there on the table for subs 

But not a part of the Bri-nylon club 

Ancient blue sweater, too old for the job 

Bored out of his mind 

With the Colins and Bobs 

I'm a jack and a lad 

And I'm up for the world 

And I've kissed a Gateshead girl 

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He calls for a copy boy, grumpy as hell 

Poets have to eat as well 

What he wouldn't give just to walk out today 

To have time to think about time 

And young love thrown away 

I'm a jack and a lad 

And I'm up for the world 

And I've kissed a Gateshead girl 

Starlings swarming 

A cloud over Grainger Street 

Over the black church 

Over the Black Gate 

And the shadowy Keep 

He peers through his wire rims 

At the fish and chip words 

He's supposed to dish up and forget 

His drudgery now has become slightly blurred 

By one of his Players untipped cigarettes 

Photos 

Bury all joy 

Put the poems in sacks 

And bury me here with the hacks 

In the summer the fair 

Will stretch over the Moor 

Lovers will lie and make out in the park 

Basil puts on his old duffel and scarf 

And goes out into the dark