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letra de uncle - asbo slipz

when i was a kid we would visit my uncle
he lived in a cul-de-sac under the moor
in a town that was blackened by soot from the chimneys
when cotton was king and when england was more
he always had fancy cars, nissans and datsuns
with electric windows and a tape c-ssette player
and me and my brother would sit in the boot
giving thumbs or our tongues to the cars to the rear
in the seventies this was okay, and the police didn’t care

and every trip he would give us a comic book
marvellous t-tles with spider sensation and
adverts for weird stuff like, web slingers, x-ray specs
twinkie bars, pop tarts and dynamic tension and
how to avoid getting sand in your face from the
thug on the beach who is after your squeeze
this was our window on americana and
back in the day we all desperately hankered to be
steve austin or evil knievel
they were exotic and we were just people

many years later i heard through the grapevine
my uncle had hung up his hat and retired
i went to his funeral back in that northern town
back to the smoke and the cruel church spires
after the wake we began to take stock of
the flotsam the dead leave when they shuffle off
and cleaning his garage out it became plain to see
marvellous comics were not his main income stream
the garage was packed to the rafters with jazz mags

and then i remembered when i was a little lad
sneaking outside to the garage in search of mad
looking for x-men, the hulk or avengers
i opened a magazaine, no superheroes just
pictures of ladies in states of undress, but it
stirred something strange in me, who would have guessed?
and then i remember a hand on my shoulder
a voice in my ear saying calmly to close it
this comic isn’t the one you require
here have a doctor strange, come outside

well my mum and my aunt put it all in black bags
and they burned the f-cking lot

- asbo slipz

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