Mind Over Matter

I was going to Majorca with the missus son and daughter
For a week of sea and sand and Spanish “pop”
And we’d just got to the airport when a relatively rare thought
Just popped into my head and made me stop
I said “I wish we’d brought the telly” they said “Dad you’re being silly”
I said “I’m not I’ve left the tickets on the top.”

‘Cause my belly’s gone to pot and my eyes are on the blink
My hair came off in handfuls and just vanished down the sink
My hearing and my sense of smell have given up the ghost
Of all the things I’ve lost I think I miss my mind the most
I really think I miss my mind the most

I can’t put names to faces and I can’t remember places
That I must have seen a hundred times or more
I get mixed up with the children’s names, call Vicky Jem and Davey Jane
I don’t think they even notice anymore
I tell a joke and one will say “you told us that one yesterday”
And the others say “yes, and the day before!”

I’d still give the girls the eye but I can’t remember why
And I’m worried that I might have lost the knack
But I’ve checked the tackle’s working fine with frequent furtive tests “off-line”
So all I need to get me back on track
Is just Champagne and a Jacuzzi and a sympathetic floozy
And just hope to God it all comes flooding back

Well I don’t know who’s to blame for addling me brain
I’m not sure if it’s the hand of God or man
‘Cause it could be cosmic rays y’see, or mobile phones, or beef or cheese
Petrol fumes or aluminum pans
Although I think that Jamieson and Haig, Marstons Ruddles and Laphroaig
Should be prepared to carry half the can

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