Sukie was the kid, she liked to hangout in the graveyard
She did brass rubbings, she learned you never had to press hard
When she finished hanging out she was all alone
She decided that she better check in at home
There was an awful row between her mum and dad
They said she hadn't done this, she hadn't done that
If she wanted to remain inside the family home
She'd have to tow the line, she'd have to give it a go
It didn't suit Sukie
So she took her things and left

Sukie was the kid, she liked to hang out at the art school
She didn't enrol, but she wiped the floor with all the arseholes
She took a bijou flat with the fraternity cat
She hid inside the attic of the sculpture building
She had a slut slave and his name was Dave
She said 'Be my photo bitch and I'll make you rich'
He didn't believe her but the boy revered her
He got her meals and he got her a bed
He watched behind the screen and she started to undress
He never got far
Just lookin' and playing guitar

Autumn hanging down all the trees are draped like chandeliers
Sukie saw the beauty but she wasn't wet behind the ears
She had an A1 body and a face to match
She didn't have money, she didn't have cash
With the winter coming on, and the attic cold
She had to press her nose on the refectory wall
They served steamed puddings she went without
She had to pose for life for all the scholars of art
She didn't feel funny, she didn't feel bad
Peeling away everything she had
She had the grace of an eel, sleek and stark
As the shadows played tricks on the girl in the dark

Sukie was the kid, she liked to hangout in the graveyard Writer/s: BOB KILDEA, CHRISTOPHER GEDDES, MICHAEL COOKE, RICHARD COLBURN, SARAH MARTIN, STEPHEN JACKSON, STUART MURDOCH
Publisher: Hipgnosis Songs Group, Red Brick Music Publishing
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind