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Christmas the Way I Like it
From Frankfurt's beer kellers, to stoned beatnik cellars From sharply dressed fellas, to difficult bank tellers Blown out umbrellas, wind hit and gone There ain't nothing like your red shoes on Baby keep your red shoes on, Honey keep your red shoes on You can stand there naked as the day you were born But darlin' keep them red shoes on I know I got priors, for kicking out fires Hanging in shires, of acid tongue liars Bare-assed friars, carrying spare tyres But that Pontiac talk, it ain't nothing like your red shoes From London's cab drivers, to daisy chained skivers From landlocked survivors, to tough muffin divers Taking tenners and fivers, wind hit and gone There ain't nothing like your red shoes on Baby keep your red shoes on, Honey keep your red shoes on You can stand there bucko as the day you were born But darlin' keep them red shoes on Baby keep them red shoes on Say Betty keep them red shoes on This Christmas is gonna be the way I like it.
Bootlace Johnnie
Now Bootlace Johnnie had a rock in his head The day he fell out of bed and got strumming on his geetar And came up with a song that only had one chord But it appealed to the board of the Jerkwater Record Co. And three months later Johnnie had a U.K. rating He had a New York coming and Los Angeles, hyper-ventilating He'd done pretty good for a West London boy Who'd had it stamped on his forehead just one of God's factory fodder And hey, I'm over that now I'm over that hoedown wall That you all built out of envy across that river of sand That you left me to drown in, yer, I'm over that, over that, Over that, I'm over that now
So Bootlace Johnnie would pour out his heart That's what set him apart from the rest of the circus His simple solitary gift that the half-talented crave Caused them to rave, 'How come someone like you could possess that spirit?' And Johnnie dug deep but he found no answer And they took that as a slap to their very existence He'd done pretty good for a west London boy Who'd had it stamped on his forehead, never gonna amount to nothing
And hey,........(repeat chorus)
So it's a long long way from the Goldhawk Road Carrying the Highway Toad to the Malibu City limits And Johnnie hoofed it with a smile, eating every mile While humouring the sharks that fed just below him But the truth and the light he'd found in the Hammersmith Lane Fell to hatfuls of rain, he drew his last breath, catching He'd done pretty good for a West London boy Who'd had it stamped on his forehead Just one of Her Majesty's lesser persons And hey,........(repeat chorus to end)
The Ice Lizard Hometown Fair
There ain't one stone that came up qualified unturned There ain't a bridge I crossed and left unburned There ain't a flower that could claim survival Every bouquet I sent came up dead on arrival Ah, but I'm over that now, I tried on the good Lord's shoes And I'm over that now I hung on through December and I hung on through March I really cannot remember any further hanging on my part Vinnie went back down to Needles, Benny took a cab to who knows where Leaving me taking the old two-twenty Trembling like the goldfish at the Ice Lizard Hometown Fair
There ain't one road I didn’t leave the broken behind There ain't one kind word when I did not lie blind There ain't one train standing dead in life's station I got every engineer loaded and jammed the hammer for damnation But I'm over that now, I tried on the Devil's shoes And I tell yer I'm over that now I hung on through December and I hung on through March I really could not remember any further hanging on my part Jackie flew on up to Cheyenne, Jimmy's doing Surrey in his underwear Leaving me looking down a thirty-ought six Nervous as the guineas at the Ice Lizard Hometown Fair
Riverstones
'Summer’s closing in', said the Babe of Hearts to the King of Hermosa 'It's shuffling back to Buffalo', she cried as they both cracked up And gave me a charge Tabasco Charlie he got a few dates open at the end of September He say, 'Get on the ham and bone next week and we'll put 'em to sleep In a bucket of concrete'. Cool down, I'm only lonesome Jackson Cool down, lay lay lay lay Come and run me later, Mister Torque Operator When I've got some freeze in my radiator And smooth out my bones like them riverstones 'Autumn's in my hips', said the Count of Juke To the Duke of South Redondo 'They're making for the Sea of Cortez', he moaned As they passed the Monte Cristo and cut me a half glance And Frank's Cantina run a little meaner Their band booking policy cut somewhat leaner Say we ain't being starchy but here's the deal Archie You’re gonna need a Masters' in Mariachi Cool down, I'm only lonesome Jackson Cool down, lay lay lay lay Come and park me later Chemo Carbon Data When I've fed some fruit to my alligator And lay out my bones like them riverstones ooooooh, .......................… ooooooh,........................… Funny, funny now, anyway you got 'em I'm always dealing from the river bottom ooooooh,........................... riverstones.
Traitor's Gate
Everybody was running slow, everybody was running late I calculated the flow against the volume and the weight I thought I caught the blackened eye of reason sprinkling treason's plate But all the tongues had been torn from the piked heads above Traitor's Gate
And we've all met before and we'll all meet again Though I just can't recall the flesh and bones of where or when Yes, we've all met before and we'll all meet again Marching into the fore, rebel boys and rebel men.
Wastelanders
Somehow we made it alive out of Madrid Central Up through Zaragosa to the badlands of Isabella In a Volkswagen bus that had seen better days Back in seventy-two, somewhat a wastelander crew We were mainly duffs and street corner toughs Who weren't afraid of resorting to headbutts and fisticuffs In our continuing efforts to stay one long jump Ahead of the law, that's a wastelander’s score And ooooooh....… Tell 'em the wastelanders came Yer, tell 'em the wastelanders came Tell 'em that they've came and gone
We cut on through Toulouse one short, Lost to some undiagnosed disease Yer, we buried Oggy back in the Pyrenees In a shallow grave where his ramblings Would be at ease, flying on a wastelander’s breeze And in Vichy we sang and danced, yer, we picked their pockets clean Tanked up on red wine and Valvoline Next thing we knew Paris lit up like sapphires In our windscreen, on a wastelander’s dream And oooooo.....… Tell 'em the wastelanders came Yer, tell 'em the wastelanders came Tell 'em that they've came and gone
And at Dover they stripped us clean, cold Customs’ boys With dogs in hand, said they were on the lookout for contraband We told 'em we'd smoked it all back on the Calais sand, It was a wastelander’s brand And navigating London at three A.M. for some winter dawn We all knew we had to get in from the storm Going west on the Cromwell Road Struggling to stay warm, true to wastelander form
And ooooooh.....… Tell 'em the wastelanders came Yer, tell 'em the wastelanders came Tell 'em that they've came and gone.
Nightingales
I heard the Nightingales were straightening the picture rails When your well worn sails came a-breezing by As luck would sometimes have itI was elsewhere chasing some other exhaustive errand And so the Nightingales while painting their fingernails Observed your plague of hard luck tales, go a-moving on If I was a younger man and still half the fool I may very well have jumped...............right back in.
The Washing of the Spears
Our galleys found the shores of the foe we knew as Sparta And with hearts of blackened thunder, we waded the warm blue water They held their causeways with valour until our numbers overcame them And our flags flew on to Mars' Lair for the washing of the spears And I was long gone then and I'll be long gone forever
Over river and mountain I am gone my love even though we're resting here And we followed the blood red cross with death our fond companion Through lands that we left barren for the foreign tongue was spoken We slew every living thing upon seven holy hills And rode on to Saracens’ Well that day for the washing of the spears And I was long gone then and I'll be long gone forever
Across hillock and dale I am gone my love even though I’m no the wiser And I'll be gone, always gone and I'll be always gone forever Upon spurs that wing me on my love to wherever warring men, do gather, Strange I'm gone.
Cruel Masseur
Well, there's four million bands within the city limits And they're all trying to play the Alligator Lounge And Debbie's on the phone there, sounding weary as your mother Saying, 'Call me back next Tuesday, I may have something for yer, And I ain't giving you the run around but we're trying to book alternative" Then she forgets who she's talking to, another child's voice is calling And I know just how she'd feel if we met my eyes would have her While a beautiful white lady is singing, 'Who knows where the time goes?' And I look down at my watch, it tells me quarter up to fifty And I thought it was a long road from Brentford into Avalon Standing at the dockside, still in dirty Levi’s Finally figuring it's the same sun that shone down on the gasworks Listening to my bones crack knowing I had muscles Every mirror telling tales of adventures I'd forgotten Thinking getting through life, it ain't nothing, nothing but a cruel masseur
And there's forty million songs within the city limits And everyone's a treasure to all the souls that wrote 'em And it takes a lot of living and it takes a lot of dying To see over that horizon, I never could do that And Tom Cribb's in England, I told him I would be there To take a last walk through the Forty Acre Tunnel He lost his only daughter to the wind of constant sorrow I cried out inside as we drove past the refinery And it's been a rainy Sunday but the messages keep coming I turn 'em into songs that people say will get me nowhere And take a hike to Nashville they got the cherries on the pie there Just look what they've done to simple country music Listening to your bones crack, knowing you had muscles Every mirror telling tales of adventures you'd forgotten Thinking how a good life, it ain't nothing, nothing but a cruel Masseur
Tender Guillotine
We were the cocks of the north, we were the jacks of the south We were beaten in the east and feared in the west and were gone, Like we never had been. We were a band on the rum Chasing Tender Guillotine
Two leather-headed motor boys who masqueraded as our management Snapped up all our copyrights and the petty cash we left laying and were gone, Like they never had been. They were outnumbered dearly By the Tender Guillotine
So we rocked like the old timers from Hanover to Helsinki While pink fairied hippies tried to suck up our persona and were gone, Like they never had been. Looking comically violent Towing Tender Guillotine
Just outside the Port of London the band wagon took a powder Someone cried out "injectors", but we all knew it was the end and were gone, Like we never had been. Going five different ways, boys With our Tender Guillotine
And that fifty-eight Minor we revved up on the stage Has run a damn sight longer than their mouths could ever stretch to and be gone, Like the sweat off our brow we kicked their arseholes then And we'll kick their arseholes now.
Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety-Nines
To hell with Shakespeare and to hell with Caesar We memorised what we could and threw the rest back in the freezer They hardly came in useful repairing some wayward geyser in our later years And they told us, mathematics will cure what ail yer And learning some foreign language will more than likely bail yer And who wanted to be an eleven year old failure Well we did, we were born that way Say boys, it's a Saturday night Let's climb on up through the Hippodrome skylight I got a quart and my old man's Woodbines We can watch, Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety, Ninety-Nines...…
Now Bootlace got it creeping set a maximum tone Beehive hairdos lacquered to stone The whole damn ballroom would be jumping like Jehovah Yer, Bootlace had them Teddy Boys shaking all over Well, God come and take me for I've seen it all Lower your boom and take up that ball The Ninety-Nines shook it out to Rock's early border While Bootlace goes and throws a nervous disorder Yer, Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety-Nines Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety-Nines Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety, Ninety-Nines
And so eleven years run into twenty Twenty run to thirty and thirty run to forty And after forty I hear you’re a dinosaur fright But I still use old Johnnie for that guiding light And the skylight boys are mainly in incarceration None of us ever thought to stop at any station And so we leave a few pointers for some future generation Saying, 'That's how we were, we were born that way' Hey boys, it's a Saturday night Let's climb on up through the Hippodrome skylight I got a quart of brown and my old man's Woodbines We can watch, Bootlace Johnnie and the Ninety, Ninety-Nines....… Bootlace Johnnie, Boot, Boot, Bootlace Bootlace Johnnie, Boot, Bootlace Bootlace Johnnie.............................…
Down Pentonville Way
Now one thing my old man, had under stood You could trace our roots, back to Robin Hood He'd say son, remember, the pickings are good When the privileged classes, walk like wood Your from a long line, Your from a long line
And Uncle Bill was always, my number one When he took me along, to do a bank run He'd stick his hand in his pocket and tell the teller he had a gun Oh man, that's how the two fingered, bank withdrawal was done We're from a long line, We're from a long line, We're from a long line, Down Pentonville Way
Well if it chained up and if it nailed down And if it ain't fenced in It'll be gone faster than Dick Turpin's skin Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, We form a long line
Now every man jack, worth his thieving measure Can rest assured of doing, some untimely leisure Knocking shoulders with the cream of criminal treasure Serving up the porridge, at her Majesty's pleasure I'm from a long line, I'm from a long line, I'm from a long line, Down Pentonville Way
Well if it ain't chained up and if it ain't nailed down And if it ain't fenced in It'll be gone faster than Nancy Fagan's gin Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, We form a long line
Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, Down Pentonville Way, We form a long line, We form a long line, We form a long line.......Down Pentonville Way
My Assassin
My assassin wear the silk dress, yes the last known flesh address Was in the heart of Flemish Belgium
My assassin drive a Dodge Dart, study concentric forms of cave art And the ancient idling engines of the past
My assassin speak the old tongue with only one lung That I hear mentions some regret
My assassin know the old time, with one shiny lone dime Could place a call to Chloride, Arizona
Where I’ll stand briefly in the open, facing East towards the mighty Shrooms Grave That’s how the wild bush burn in Chloride, Arizona
Take your shot there, take your cut there Bring a quart of Mann’s Brown ‘cause I’ve known to take a drink Where the Wild Witch knocked her teeth out
Come and get me, come and get me I’m all yours Come and get me, I m yours for the taking
Well come get me, come and get me I’m all yours Come and get me, I’m yours for the taking
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