Neil: On my left, Chris, and on my right, the lovely Natalie! And my name is Neil.
Someone in the audience: […]
Neil: Hello! Oh, I’ll take these off. To show off my black eye. Right, right. What are we...? Oh yeah! After 4. One, two, three, four.

I... I was born yesterday
And I believe all that you say.
I have no choice I must obey
You.
Is this the first or the second day
Of the rest of my life? Well hey!
Why should I care either way,
If what you say
Is true?

Saturday morning, 18th of December.
I cannot remember
The last time that I saw such a young ballerina
In love with the loveless,
In tune with a tuneless
Old upright piano.
Standing en pointe,
Going through each position
With gentle precision,
She measures each movement.
Her classical features
And elegant waistline
Are going to waste while she pleases her parents.

I, yeah, I was born yesterday
And I believe all that you say.
I have no choice I must obey
You.
I have a question
Is this the first or the second day
Of the rest of my life? Well hey!
Why should I care either way,
If what you say
Is true?

What if they die
On the road to Rathmines
Where a dog in two minds
Times his run to perfection?
An orphan at last,
She’d be sick in the loo-bowl
Then she’d go to the funeral
And cry by the graveside.
Then she would sleep
With the first man she sees
And she’d catch some disease
Which she would give to her doctor
And she’d cook her own breakfast,
And she’d cook his as well
And they both’d get on swell
Even though he was married.

You are a part of me,
I am a part of you.
Why should I let you walk
All over me?
All over me?

Neil: Oh. Thanks, thanks. Merci beaucoup.