Just Mates in the House of Luv

What kind of housemate
Could get me dropping everything,
For weekend rock and roll tour,
In the Low-Countries, in November
Lugging his kit in a suitcase.
From Amsterdam to Brussels,
Then back again.
Just to trawl the dawn streets together
replete on love, and drugs,
Looking only for tobacco
Saying we’re just mates in the House of Luv.

What kind of housemate
Could get me dropping everything,
To cook food for a pop band,
Just crashed in from Belgium,
6 or 8 piece, not sure yet.
On my day off, on my own giro,
With zero drugs.
Just to trawl the dawn streets together
replete on love, and drugs,
Looking only for tobacco
Saying we’re just mates in the House of Luv.

What kind of housemate
Could get me dropping everything,
To lie on the bed all Sunday afternoon,
With a long-stemmed pipe,
Naked apart from a strange headress.
To hear him say we’re not in a relationship,
I said don’t screw the crew.
Just to trawl the dawn streets together
replete on love, and drugs,
Looking only for tobacco
Saying we’re just mates in the House of Luv.

Bella Basura
March 2013