POSTCARD SONGS

(Shearer)

Well I heard you shout at my son
When he got in the way
It was kind of inconvenient
‘Cos it gave your game away

I’d been thinking for sometime
That you’re not quite as easy-going as you make out
But I’d been wrong before
So I gave you the benefit of the doubt

But I started to see the signs
Began to read between the lines…

Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus
Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus

Phone calls out of the blue
Making out you were my best friend
Took a while to realise
They were all a means to an end

Answering impertinent, ingratiating questions
Anytime we went for a drink
I’ve got to say I've had less irritating interrogations
But hey just one more thing…

You’re a little bit too late
To be calling me mate

Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus
Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus

Now I see through you mock genorosity
And fake concern
How you calculate what I want to hear
But you’re too late, I’ve learned

I’ve got wise to you
I can see what you’re up to

Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus
Hocus pocus, I think you’re kinda bogus
Hocus pocus I think you are kind of bogus…

© 2014 Andrew Shearer.