Robyn Hitchcock - Point it at gran

^AmAlone and pointless by her ^Fmouldering self She ^Cstares at the tin of sar^Dmdines on the shelf By a ^Amparaffin lamp in a ^Edingy brown room Gran ^Amsits and ^Ebroods in the ^Amthickening gloom It's a ^Dmgloom that congeals; it's so ^Amgreasy and thick You could ^Ecut into strips and ^Amroast on a stick And ^Dmhand round to friends but there's ^Amnobody there Just ^AmGran, on her ^Eown, in a miserable chair ^ESo don't point it at me Point it at ^AmGran She needs it more than ^FI do And more than Princess ^CAnne When Princess Anne's eighty-^Dmtwo And living in a one room flat in ^AmHackney Maybe she could ^Edo with a bit as well

^EDon't point it at me Don't point it at your^Amself Just point it at ^FGran And the sardines on the ^Cshelf Don't point it at ^Dmme I've had more than e^Amnough Just point it at ^EGran

^EDon't point it at me Point it at ^AmGran Well, it could be a ^Ffirehose Or it could be a ^Cflan Now some people are ^Dmhappy And some people are ^Ambored And some people are ^Eleft

So ^Fwhy should your life ^Amend on a ^Edismal note?