Patrick(WhyD'YaDoIt)

Patrick(Why D'Ya Do It?) - Nathan Evans

Composed by：Nathan Evans

It's 1992 I'm wearing

A tie-dyed t-shirt and hair down to my nipples

Paint-spattered denim and unlaced army boots

Mum says you look a fool but I know I look cool

As I shut the door on our semi-detached

And I make my way to the local art college

Where I know I'll be more at home 'cause they're

All wearing tie-dye and paint-spattered denim

So I don't know why I fix on you with your

Ginger crew-cut and your dodgy DM shoes

Maybe because you looked

Like you didn't want to be spoken to

And you're halfway out the

Door before I dare to approach you

Oh Patrick what you do it

So your name is Patrick you're a mature student

Working night shifts to put yourself through college

A starving artist and not some stupid kid who

Thinks they're living La Boheme

Whilst sponging off their parents

You turn up your nose and

Take another road and I head home

Where theres marks and spencers

Vegetarian lasagne in the oven

And mum wants to know hows your day been

I tell her I'm not hungryand take refuge in my room

Oh Patrick what you do it

Next day they give us a

Camera and tell us to work in pairs

You lift your lens to me and say

So you wanna be in my movie

I don't know what's changed

Since the night before but we shoot

Together all that year you

Are my director and I am you star

You show me Jarman Anger Fassbinder Passolini

We pore over pirate copies

And pour ourselves cheap whiskey

I crash on your floor

I cherish even your snores

And never tell my bourgeois

Parents that I'm staying over

Oh Patrick what you do it

You gave me so much and

I gave you Maurice

An end of year present I say

Read it it's research

You say hey already filmed it

I say I want to live it

You say I'm not like that

I'm sorry if I've misled

It's the end of year party

I've had six pints already

You say maybe it's for the best if

We don't meet after this

The last time I see you theres

Some girl around your waist and

I run home to my bourgeois