City of Tiny Lights Page #6

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Tommy, I'm sorry, man. I'm...

You covered up a f***in' murder.

You stay here.

F***ing Yanks.

You all right, Cal?

- You ready for the spooks?

- Go on, then.

Greed was Lovely's mistress

and he pursued her till the end.

Turns out the spooks didn't

give a toss that he killed Rana.

They were only after his contacts

so they could take down Rana's network.

As long as Lovely kept

feeding them information,

they were willing to protect him.

They just couldn't believe the mullah only

wanted to get the drugs off the street.

As for me, I mean, I can't see

myself in one of them posh new flats.

But I have acquired a new family.

Dad, this is Emma.

I told you about.

- Come in, Merry Christmas.

- Avid, Mrs. Elzad's son.

Merry Christmas, Tommy boy.

- How you doing?

- Yes, I'm fine. Come on in.

Everyone, lets...

What do you think?

I think we need that um,

army outfit.

- You know, the bullet belt, boots, b*obs.

- Oh, right. Yeah.

- Yeah, Farzad will have a heart attack.

- F*** off, Tommy.

What have we got here?

Yeah, sort the sprouts out.

Make yourself useful.

Wow, Melody, this looks amazing.

Actually, it's Laura.

- Laura.

- Yeah.

There it goes. I was just speaking of.

Hope you're all very hungry.

Wonderful, wonderful. Which bit

did you want me to cut first?

- I think the breast.

- I usually come to them later.

Bugga shite! Pardon my French,

we're missing the Queen.

Yeah, this... okay.

Our Lord was not born

into a traditional family.

- Hey, sorry I couldn't get away.

- It's all right.

What are you doing?

Making up for lost time.

Now, come on, I'm starving.

Look who I found.

Hello.

Lovely to see you.

- God bless us, everyone.

- Cheers.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Well, it's not exactly happy families.

But it never is.

But we've laid some ghosts to rest.

We could leave some space for now.

But will it take? Will it last?

I dunno.

We just jump in and

do the best we can.

This ain't the down,

it's the upbeat, make it complete

So what's the story,

guaranteed accuracy, enhanced CD

Latest technology,

darts at treble twenty

Huge non-recoupable advance,

majors be vigilant

I excel in both content and deliverance

So let's put on our classics and

we'll have a little dance, shall we?

No sales pitch, no media hype

No hydro, it's nice and ripe

I speak in communications in bold type

This ain't your archetypal street sound

Scan for ultrasound

North, South, East, West and all round

And then to the Underground

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

As we progress to the check point

I wholeheartedly agree

with your viewpoint

But this ain't your typical garage joint

I make points which hold significance

That ain't a bag it's a shipment

This ain't a track,

it's a movement, I got the settlement

My frequencies are transient

and resonate your eardrums

I make bangers not anthems,

leave that to the Artful Dodger

The broad shouldered fifty-one

percent shareholder

You won't find us on Alta Vista

Cult classic not bestseller,

you're gonna need more power

Plug in the free phase and

the generator, crank it up to gigawatts

Critics, ready with your

pot shots, the plot thickens

Put on your mittens for

these sub zero conditions

But remember I'm just spitting,

remember I'm just spitting

Once bitten, forever smitten

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

Spit jewels like

Eastern riches, junkie fixes

Around here we say

'birds', not b*tches

As London Bridge burns down

Brixton's burning up

Turns out your in luck, I knows

this dodgy f*** in the Duck

So it's just another show flick

for your local city poet

In case you geezers don't know it,

let's push things forward

It's a tall order but we're taller,

calling all maulers

Back street brawlers,

corner shop crawlers, victory's flawless

Love us or hates us but don't slate us

Don't conform to formulas,

pop genres and such

Sharp darts, double dutch,

parked cars troubles you much

With more bud

let's - push - things - forward

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

You say that everything sounds the same

And then you go buy them

There's no excuses, my friend

Let's push things forward

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