Filk doesn’t have to be funny. It can be nasty, if you try hard enough. This is dedicated to one of my ex-girlfriends in particular, but a few others in general. It’s to the tune of Crowded House’s Four Seasons In One Day, which appears to have become the Melbourne choral scene’s anthem.
[March 1996]
Two strangers in one bed,
Flying in the face of any simple wisdom.
Worlds apart and miles between,
The moon shines on the bra strap hanging on the bedside chair.
Every time you’ve had your fun,
The interest is gone and dead,
Like two strangers in one bed.
Snoring as the sun comes out.
You can tell a man from how he greets the day.
Ugly taste is in my mouth,
And I will shave my neck again (again).
You can treat me like a toy,
‘Cause you’re the girl and I’m the boy,
It’s never mattered what we said:
Two strangers in one bed.
Now I’ve lost
The thread, the thread.
Count the cost
Of two strangers in one bed.
(Instrumental break)
Doesn’t pay to steal the blankets,
Lying on a queensize bed,
Finding out whenever she wants comfort I get cold.
Cover’s so hard to hold
For two strangers in one bed.
Now I’ve lost
The thread, the thread.
Count the cost
Of two strangers in one bed.