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and thank you so much for your comment. Very useful and complete, indeed. It made me think of "Everyday" in the right perspective now.
You seem to have lived some similar situation as the one described by Morrissey with his words.
Thank you. Your contribution is the reason why I decided to create WoM some time ago (long time, actually)... :-)
David La Monaca (Pregassona-Lugano, Svizzera)
'Everyday' is written as the name of an imagined seaside town - back in my youth we always used to sing 'Whitley Bay (a small seaside town in the north east of England) is like Sunday' - meaning that the town istself was just like a grey Sunday.
Also the 'Grease Tea' is aname like 'Chip Supper' used to describe the kind of meal you'd get and would be served on a tray and in the seaside towns be very cheap. so in the amusement parks you could win a small amount of money out of the the slot machines and buy yourselve a greasy meal which cheap that would be delivered on a tray to your table that had the obligatory tomato shaped ketchup bottle.
Undoubtedly inspired by 'Slough' it conjures up a vision of seaside towns with their gawdy amusements and funparks bustling in summer but for those who live there become even more empty, lifeless and redundant when everyone's gone. Where you sit in the same places that a few weeks before promised new experiences and horizons which are now empty whatching drizzle and grey skies melt into grey seas which in the song is euphemistically used as grey nuclear fallout for autumnal/winter fallout from a heady summer. 'Strange dust' for 'Drizzle".
"Share some greased tea with me" could be seen as him imploring at the thin air, wishing for someone to be there to share it with now everyone's gone?
Whenever I hear it it reminds me of grim days of my youth supping hot tea and eating sausage sandwiches staring out at the north Sea when all the vibrancy and bustle and exciting new girls/boys from out of town have blown through and get goosebumps - surely Morrissey's finest 3 minutes!
Sounds like a song of love and loss (the fleeting romance of the transient coastal towns), if there's nothing here anymore may as well obliterate it.
I agree it seems to have something of a hopeful outlook, maybe realising that there is a chance of future repeats of what is missing (next summer) 'come, come, come' either something to end the sunday and bring an exciting week or something to obliterate, either way something explosive?
Gritley Bay (Tynemouth, England)
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