Pendant le filmage de ce spectacle, c'est ici que se trouvait l'entracte. Maintenant que c'est un DVD, il n'y a plus besoin d'entracte puisque l'invention du bouton pause les a rendu obsolètes.
Mais si vous voulez une tasse de thé, autant la faire maintenant. Sinon, attendez une petite seconde, parce que Tim va revenir.
Ah, le voilà.
Thank you.
This is a song I wrote, uh...
on the morning after I got married,
to my wife.
We’ve got years ahead of us
We’ve got people who care for us
Yeah, we’ve got Sunday morning coffees in the sun
We’ve got Monday night television
Yeah, we’ve got years of happiness
We’ve got decades of laughter ahead
Yeah, we’ve got Christmases with family by the sea
We’ve got wine and vintage cheddar
Yeah, I have everything a man could ever want
And all I’ll ever need is you
Cos nothing can stop us now
Only the good times left
Nothing can stop our love
Except terminal illness
Or sudden accidental death
Thank you very much.
Never gets a huge laugh, that one.
Well I wake up in the morning at 11:47 and I can’t believe I have to face
the horror of another fucking day
And the magnificent magnitude of my morning erection
merely mocks me like the sun in its optimistic greeting of the day
Managing to manifest a modicum of motivation
I meander to the kitchen make a mission out of mixing Nescafe
But the milk is going off and coffee by itself is bitter
and there’s ants all through the sugar and the supermarket’s miles a-fucking-way
My life is pretty sad
But I know that I should be glad.
I could be a starving Ethiope
Or a policeman in Bagdad
policeman in Bagdad
Bagdad
At 11:53 I instigate the day’s ablutions
in the hope my constitution can be altered by some action on the bowel
But the total non-existence of colonic animation seems to me the perfect metaphor
for the utter constipation of my soul
By 11:59 I have decided that my life would be immediately improved
by a carefully written list of short-term goals
But by 12.05 my list consists of 1-dot put some pants on,
2-dot go to the shop, buy some prunes and Panadol
My life is pretty shit
But I know I shouldn’t whinge about it
I could be a Palestinian Driving buses on the Gaza strip
Yeah how bad can it be?
Some people have it worse than me
I could be a Ipswitch prostitute Or Gary Glitter’s family
I have no right to cry Some people have it worse than I
I could be a thalidomide kid With something in my eye
something in my eye
my eye
At 12:30 I realise I’m feeling so dejected
that I’ve totally neglected the beginning of the Jerry Springer show
So I settle on the sofa try to focus an iota of
my motor-neurones on the brilliant insights for which Jerry is known
And although on any other day a show entitled “Midgets Midget Midgets”
would excite me like a virgin at her year eleven ball
Today those little jelly-wresting fellas fail to free me of my misery
instead they simply serve to make me feel three foot tall
But how bad can it be? Some people have it worse than me
I could be a junior life saver on a Banderachi beach
Or a woman in Afghanistan
Or a Jew in the Klu Klux Klan
Or the architect of the World Trade Centre
Or a bobcat driver in Bam Iran
I could have my identity mistaken As a bomber in an underground station
Or I could be a peace-loving speech-writer
In George W’s administration
Yeah you know that I don’t have the right
To be unhappy with my life
I could be Hitler’s mother Or Shane Warne’s wife
And I know that I shouldn’t be bitchin I could be in a worse position
I could be a 3-nippled naturopath In the days of the Spanish in, the Spanish inquisition
You know I have no right, no right to cry Some people have it much, much worse than I
I could have a serious nut allergy
And be shipwrecked on an island with a crate of Snickers bars
A jar of Nutella and a fresh baked pecan
pie
Some people have it worse than I
So, yes, I'm, um ...
I'm married. I got married at 26. I got married quite young.
I've been with the same woman for ... ages.
In fact- This is another little personal thing, but um,
I say- I'm telling you cos it's quite uncommon these days,
In my generation, anyway. I actually lost my virginity
to the woman I ended up marrying.
It's not quite as sad as it sounds.
But it's pretty fucking close to that.
We're both in our thirties now, and one of the things that
happens, if anyone's in a long-term relationship, and you haven't got kids yet,
when you hit 30,
The pressure to have kids just --
And it's ridiculous, because 30's just a number, you know?
How do you know that, suddenly, you hit 30, and you're suddenly endowed with all the
attributes a parent needs, you know, like selflessness, and ...
And, like, when I hit 30, I remember
An example : my thirtiest birthday diner, I remember,
the sort of stuff we were talking about, the main conversation on my birthday diner was
about what our last words would be.
We all thought it was really important to have really kick-ass final words. Just in case, you know,
we died sooner than we thought. We wanted to make sure we had something really good locked in.
And ... And all I could come up with was
'Who's the world gonna revolve around now?'
That's kinda where I was at.
And it's ridiculous, cos this pressure to have kids,
you think- You'd expect it from your parents, and from the-
the ticking of your biological clock, or whatever, but-
But the main pressure is good old-fashioned peer pressure, you know?
Like, what you got smoking for, in your teens.
Because all your mates are having kids, and you feel like 'Oh, not part of the cool club anymore.
I should have a human too.'
And it's ridic- Cos,
Here you are at 30, suffering peer pressure. And it's worse than ever,
mostly, I think, because of digital technologies.
Because all my friends had cool little digital cameras, cos they're so cheap and accessible these days,
and they're very proud, so it takes many photos, and they're 'Oh, look!
There's absolutly not limit to the number of photos I can take!
And I have broad-band internet, you know, digital technology. And so, every morning,
I wake up and, there, sure enough, attached to an e-mail, is
another 10x8-high resolution-colour photograph of another
fucking miracle, you know ...
And, eventually, it wears you down.
It breaks you, these photos.
You know? And you find yourself having this ...
inevitable conversation that you thought you'd never have. You know the one.
'What are we wainting for?' You know? 'It's never gonna be the right time.'
'It's always gonna be tough, it's always gonna be financially difficult, but,
Why don't we just do it?
Why don't we just buy a digital camera?'
So, we did. We did, we bought one!
And, soon after, almost, it seems, as a result, we had a child.
It's something about biology I don't understand, but, uh ...
She's great, I've got a baby. She's 5 months now, she's really tiny.
It seems she's, um ...
largely our responsibility.
One of the things that having a kid, um,
stops you doing is having a lot of sex.
Initially because the toilet bits aren't working very well.
It's very- It's quite traumatic
on the- on the- on the, uh, toilet bits.
But, um-
I should say 'toilet bits' a few more times.
That is in general usage, isn't it ?
You do all call your genitals your 'toilet bits', don't you ?
Don't tell me I've made a horrible faux-pas!
Turns out that only I call them my toilet bits.
Anyway!
The other reason-
The other reason you don't have sex is just cos your focuses change.
But I wanna tell you a story because it actually happened, unlike most of the crap that I talk about on stage.
I was away doing a few shows, and my wife and my child were in Melbourne.
And when you're whiles away from a child, suddenly there's sort of-
My sexual-self re-arose and I thought, "Oh, I should- I should, you know, maybe
start a little bit of flirting with my wife, in the hopes that when I get back to Melbourne,
we'll just hop straight back on." You know.
So I thought- Being a poet, I chose a text message as my ...
as my missive of choice, and I sent her a message saying : "I love you
in a sexy way."
That'll work!
And, um, she sent me one back almost immediatly that said:
"The baby just vomited in my mouth."
So, uh,
that was fine, you know,
I got the message,
went home and cried while I masturbated.
Speaking of sex,
as I want to do a lot at the moment,
one of the things that actually- If you're in a really long-term relationship,
like, um, increasingly,
for me, anyway, as I get on in this relationship,
I find myself getting more and more sexually
uh, paranoid.
Not with my wife, we're totally fine,
appart from the drought.
But, um,
what I worry about, is if I ever had to perform
sexually with another woman.
Like, with someone else. If I had to be sexual with someone else,
like, if something happened to my marriage, like,
if my wife
died
in an accident, or something.
Sorry, that's-
I don't find that funny, that's just my bad sense of humor.
I do understand that that's "That should be her last words!"
Yeah! She's not borrowing my fucking last words, I tell you that.
If she dies in an accident, she'll think of her own.
And, anyway, that wouldn't make sense, because it revolves around me.
I shouldn't say that sort of stuff about my wife.
Even if she didn't die, even if she, like,
got a degenarative disease, and
I decided that, rather than look after her myself, I should put her in a home,
so that I could move on with my life-
These things happen, you have to plan for them, that's all I'm saying.
And when I'm planning for this stuff,
and I consider having sex with another woman,
um, what I- What
I get paranoid about is:
how do I know if
what I'm doing
sexually, at the moment,
um, is normal?
Cos, as far as I understand, my wife and I have a perfectly [?] sort of
sexual relationship. But you never know, cos we've been together for a really long time,
we might have just
sort of
just drifted,
drifted from the norm.
Just bits by bits, so we didn't notice.
I've got this scenario, I play out in my head, where
I'm out with a new girl, and, uh,
and we're having a great time, and
I don't know, we're at a bar or something, we've had a few drinks, and maybe it's our third date, it
really doesn't matter. But, um,
The bar closes, and
I pluck up the courage to ask her back to my place, and she says yes, so
we go back to my place, and I pour some more drinks, and
put on some music, and some lamps.
And then, obviously, we actually end up on the couch, and
we kiss, and, uh,
a little bit on with the jumper action, uh, it's heavy petting, and then,
passion overwhelmes us, so we stumble to the bedroom,
tearing off each other's clothes, and
I get out the Mickey Mouse ears, and I length the bungee rope, and
obviously, the Hungr Hungry Hippos.
And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, she's like
What are you doing?
Huh?
I- I-
I thought we were just going to make love!
Yeah?
Why don't you just put all that stuff away, just
for a minute, just put it down, and come over here
and,
just touch me.
Touch you?
Before you've pissed in the hippos?
I don't know what kind of weird shit you're into, lady,
but if you don't piss in the hippos,
how do you know who surfs first?
If you really loved me
the way you say you do
If you love me half as much as I love you
You would pluck a planet from the sky
You’d use a star to dot the “i”
In I love you…
that is what you’d do
You’d take a dreary sky and you would paint it blue
If you loved me unconditionally
These are the things that you would do for me
Because I need you
Like a fish needs the sea
Like a fire needs oxygen
Like a flower needs a bee
And if you really cared for me
You’d let me video you while you wee
Standing up in the bath,
I shouldn’t even have to ask
Perhaps you’ll even store a little more in a flask
These are just the things that people do
When their love for one another is true
We go together
Like a cracker and Brie
Like racism and ignorance
Like bling and R&B
But if you really want to show you care
You’d let me wear your underwear
When we visit your mum,
it's a bit of harmless fun
I just like talking about your childhood with some lace between my buns
There’s no reason for a big to-do
If your love for one another is true
We go together
Like a bird and a nest
Like Internet and porn
Like guns and the US
And if you love me like you say you do
You’d purchase forty cockatoos
And teach them to fly…
in formation in the sky
And shit the words “Tim is God” on my ex-girlfriend’s Hyundai
Sure, it might be easier with doves
But shirking challenges is not what love
Is all about
Love is not all wine and roses
Sometimes it’s handcuffs and cheese
No-one said love is for free
And if you agree with that
You’d sing passages from the Coran wearing nothing but a Bob the Builder hat
To the tune of waltzing Matilda
I just love the combination of Islam, nationalism and builder
builder
Yeah, Islam
nationalism
And a little-bitty builder
Yeah, I fucking love it.
Yeah, Islam
And Bob the fucking Builder!
Bob the fucking Builder!
Because I need you
Like a tick needs a tock
Like bananas need pyjamas
Like a nun needs cock
And if you want to put your love for me first
You wouldn’t go through childbirth
You’d agree to adopt
so that you could stay thin
We’ll get a Chinese kid, it could teach us Mandarin
And communists don’t make as much noise
And they’re really good at sharing their toys
Because I dig you
Like an Aussie digs pies
Like Born-Agains dig Jesus
Like Jesus dug guys
And if you love me just a modicum
You'd [?] of my perineum
Stick a finger up my bum
As I'm about to come
I've heard it's quite acceptable and reasonably fun
Not that I'm saying that I want you to
But, hypothetically, it's something you might do
If you loved me unconditionally
Like letting me video you
while you wee
Assuming there’s nothing worth watching on TV
I'll tell you, um,
uh, Palestine, eh?
Things are really bad up there.
The Muslim and the Jewish people don't seem to get along very well in
Israel and Palestine.
It's the craziness of the circular nature of the violence,
like, every act of violence is just revenge
for a previous act, and in turn we get another act, and, uh ...
And it's hard to imagine how there's ever gonna be a lasting peace
in the region, you know, because
of the circular, the self- perpetuating nature of the violence, and
I was thinking about this the other day, and I thought
Maybe- maybe the solution's not gonna be
one of these huge solutions that, sort of
[?] in the papers each day, and maybe it won't a military intervention or ...
-god forbid- or a geographical thing, or a diplomatic solution.
But maybe- maybe what
it's gonna be is, like, a seed.
Like maybe, maybe peace has to come
from a peace-seed.
That's, like- Someone plants in the region,
and it grows
into a, like a
tree of peace.
With branches that
reach out over the whole region, over both
Israel and Palestine, shadowing it with its peace
branches.
It's a metaphor!
Anyway, I was thinking about this.
I was thinking about this,and I thought : Maybe!
Maybe this seed, like, maybe,
all they need is a really good peace-anthem.
So I've taken the liberty of penning a little something, and, uh,
and I thought it would be wise to bouce it off a relatively impartial crowd,
here, in my home country, before I actually pop over there,
and start basking on the Gaza strip.
So this is my peace-anthem for Palestine. Obviously,
being an anthem, there'll be opportunity, towards the end, for you to
sing along.
If you know the words.
We don't eat pigs,
You don't eat pigs,
It seems it's been that way forever
So if you don't eat pigs,
And we don't eat pigs,
Why not, not eat pigs together?
Pigs.
We don't eat pigs, You don't eat pigs,
It seems it's been that way forever
So if you don't eat pigs, And we don't eat pigs,
Why not, not eat pigs together, together?
Pigs.
We don't eat pigs,
What, wha-
Wait, wait, wait, ?
We don't eat pigs,
You don't eat pigs,
It seems it's been that way forever Sing!
So if you don't eat pigs,
And we don't eat pigs,
Why not, not eat pigs together, why not?
Why not, not eat pigs together?
One more time!
Why not, not eat pigs together, why not?
Rock!
You know how in, um,
Hollywood Mills & Boon novels and stuff,
there's this myth perpetuated that, uh,
that, uh, love
should happen at first sight.
Or that, if it does, it's more valuable or something, and
I've written a love song to, sort of, redress that.
Well, it's a nice song, it's-
cos it reminds me that love creeps up on you, you know? And, uh,
Sometimes, when you're least expecting it.
Often when you don't really want it.
So, um, this is a ...
This is a love song
about that creepy-uppy kinda love.
You grew on me
like a tumour
And you spread through me like malignant melanoma
And now you’re in my heart
I should’ve cut you out back at the start
Now I’m afraid there’s no cure for me
No dose of emotional chemotherapy
Can halt my pathetic decline
I should’ve had you removed back when you were benign
I picked you up
like a virus
Like
meningococcal meningitis
Now I can’t feel my legs
When you’re around I can’t get out of bed
I’ve left it too late to risk an operation
I know there’s no hope
of a clean amputation
The successful removal of you
Would probably kill me too
You grew on me like carcinoma
Crept up on me like untreated glaucoma
Now I find it hard to see
This untreated dose of you has blinded me
I should’ve consulted my local physician
I’m stuck now forever with this tunnel vision
My periphery is screwed
Wherever I look now, all I see is you
When we first met you seemed fickle and shallow
But my armour was no match for your poison arrow
You are wedged inside my breast
If I tried to pull you out now I might bleed to death
I’m feeling short of breath
You grew on me like a tumour
And you spread through me
like malignant melanoma
I guess I never knew
How fast
a little mole can grow
on
you
Tell you something,
I worry, um,
because
I"m just about playing my last song, and-
You want me to stop now?
That's, um- I meant, I meant-
That was a little joke about me interpreting that as "Oh, don't play your last song."
But what it sounds like "Do you want me to stop now?", like a teacher.
I didn't mean, like- I mean the first one, the low status one, not the high status one.
I worry that because-
because a lot of my songs
are sort of a little bit comic, or, like a little bit
light-hearted,
that, um, that,
that people are gonna leave my show
thinking that I lack depth.
And I don't, I don't want that.
So, to relay that fear, I always finish on this song.
Which I've written in the key of C sharp Minor.
See what I'm saying?
And to kind of add to this
sense of
profundity created by the key,
I tend to change the lights as well. Paul, have you got those, um,
those, uh,
reds.
Yeah.
You know what I'm saying, like a-
And with this lighting state, combined with minor key,
I think, mostly people leave my show,
hopefully having had a good time and everything, but also thinking
"Yeah, that guy is really deep."
So this is a, uh-
This is a song called 'Dark Side'.
And, uh,
I'll see you at the other end.
I can have a dark side
If you want me to
I can have a dark side
I can develop my brooding potential
If pain’s what you want in an act
Pain I can do
I can have a dark side too
I can have a dark side
too
Hey!
Yeah!
I called my girlfriend up on the phone
I said, “Hey g-girlfriend what’s g-going wrong?”
She said, “I’m breaking it off with you
“I feel as if the ma-ma-magic has gone”
I said, “Hey baby what’re you talking about?
“I thought that everything was just fine”
She said, “That’s exactly the point
“I just get so annoyed how you’re so happy all the time
“I need somebody deeper than you
“Someone with a little third-dimension”
I said,
Well, I can have a dark side
If you want me to
I can have a dark side
I can develop my brooding potential
If pain’s what you want in a man
Pain I can do
I can have a dark side too
I can have a dark side
Hey!
I wrote a letter to Mr Sony
Said, “Hey S-sony what’s g-going down?
“I’ve got a record and I reckon it’s wicked
“And I th-think you should s-spread it around”
He said, “Hey Tim, I quite like your work
He said “It’s clever and quirky
“But I promise you this
“You could be clever as Voltaire
“But it won’t get you nowhere
“If you wanna sell discs
“Clever never made no one rich
“It doesn’t appeal to the teenage market
“The teenage market!”
Well, I can have a dark side
If you want me to
I can have a dark side
I can reveal my tortured internals
If pain’s what you want in an act
Pain I can do
I can have a dark side too
Daddy never came to my ball games
Where are you daddy?
Daddy never came to my ball games
He never loved me
Daddy never came to my ball games
Daddy never came
Daddy never came to my ball games
Daddy never came
Daddy never came to my ball games
Daddy never came
And I,
I can have a dark side
If you want me to
And I,
I can have a dark side
If you want me to
I can have a dark side too
I,
I can have a dark side If you want me to
Yeah, I can have one If you want me to
Yeah I,
I can have a dark side If you want me to
Rock!
Thank you. Because of your very positive reaction,
I'm gonna do one more song.
If your reaction had have been less positive,
I would have had to think of another reason.
Hey,
You know that feeling, I think we all get that feeling sometimes,
this feeling-
You know that feeling you get when you feel like
you're the smallest doll in a Babooshka doll?
This is a song about that.
This is my Earth
And I live in it
It’s one third dirt
And two thirds water
And it rotates and revolves through space
At rather an impressive pace
And never even messes up my hair
And here’s the really weird thing
The force created by its spin
Is the force that stops the chaos flooding in
This is my Earth
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
This is my country
And I live in it
It’s pretty big
And nice to walk on
And the bloke who runs my country
Has built a demagoguery
And tought us to be fearful and boring
And the weirdest thing is that he is
Conservative of politics
But really rather radical of eyebrow
This is my country
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
This is my house
And I live in it
It’s made of cracks
And photographs
We rent it off a guy
who bought it from a guy
Who bought it from a guy
Whose grandad left it to him
And the weirdest thing is that this house
Has locks to keep the baddies out
But they’re mostly used to lock ourselves in
This is my house
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
But it's mine
This is my body
And I live in it
It’s 31
And 6 months old
It’s changed a lot since it was new
It’s done stuff it wasn’t built to do
I often try to fill it up with wine
And the weirdest thing about it is
I spend so much time hating it
But it never says a bad word about me
This is my body
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
This is my brain
And I live in it
It’s made of love
And bad song lyrics
It’s tucked away behind my eyes
Where all my fucked up thoughts can hide
Cos God forbid I hurt somebody
And the weirdest thing about a mind
Is that every answer that you find
Is the basis of a brand new
cliché
This is my brain
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
It’s not perfect
I’m not quite sure I’ve worked out how to work it
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine