Fourteen Again

As featured in Lucky Bag: The Victoria Wood Song Book, 2nd edition published 1992 by Methuen, ISBN 0-7493-0819-2

I used to precede this song with a few jolly remarks about being drunk and leaning over washbasins, and that's when I found out how few people think 'Twyfords', is a funny word. Especially at the King's Head Theatre in Islington. It's a very nice theatre but his practice of giving people dinner before the show does rather lead them to think they're in their own homes. On Monday they would start off by putting their handbags on the stage, and by Saturday they were doing jigsaws on the tables, and shaving from the light sockets.

I want to be fourteen again,
When sex was just called number ten,
And I was up to seven and a half.
Boys were for love, girls were for fun.
You burst out laughing if you saw a nun.
Sophistication was a sports car and a chiffon scarf.

I want to be fourteen again,
Tattoo my self with a fountain pen,

Pretend to like the taste of rum and Coke,
Chuck my school hat in a bush,
Spit on my mascara brush,
Buy Consulate and teach myself to smoke.

I want to be fourteen again,
Free rides on the waltzer off the fairground men

For a promise of a snog the last night of the fair—
French kissing as the kiosks shut
Behind the generators with your coconut,
The coloured lights reflected in the Brylcream on his hair.

I want to be fourteen again,
For all the things I didn't know then.

When I was funny, I was famous, I was never ignored,
I was a crazy girl, I had to laugh.
I had Ilya Kuriakin's autograph.
I had no idea you could wake up feeling bored.

© Victoria Wood, 1978