Have You Got A Biro I Can Borrow?

by Clive James and Pete Atkin

Have you got a Biro I can borrow?
I'd like to write your name
On the palm of my hand, on the walls of the hall
The roof of the house, right across the land
So when the sun comes up tomorrow
It'll look to this side of the hard-bitten planet
Like a big yellow button with your name written on it

Have you got a Biro I can borrow?
I'd like to write some lines
In praise of your knee, and the back of your neck
And the double-decker bus that brings you to me
So when the sun comes up tomorrow
It'll shine on a world made richer by a sonnet
And a half-dozen epics as long as the Æneid

Oh give me a pen and some paper
Give me a chisel or a camera
A piano and a box of rubber bands
I need room for choreography
And a darkroom for photography
Tie the brush into my hands

Have you got a Biro I can borrow?
I'd like to write your name
From the belt of Orion to the share of the Plough
The snout of the Bear to the belly of the Lion
So when the sun goes down tomorrow
There'll never be a minute
Not a moment of the night that hasn't got you in it

Note (from Collected Poems)

This song would have been on the all-important BBC playlist but they told us that ‘Biro’ was a brand name and we would have to alter it. I’m afraid I must take responsibility for an expensive digging in of the heels. Faced with a similar demand, the Rolling Stones didn’t hesitate. Listen to what Pete’s melody does to my line ‘So when the sun comes up tomorrow’ and you see what music can do to apparently simple words. Jean Renoir in his autobiography tells us that his father, crippled with arthritis, said ‘Tie the brush into my hands’.