Stuff (© Chris Broderick, published by Vacilando '68 2010)

SLAB O'SLATE

WHERE'S MY MACHINE GUN?

NAIL IT BACK TOGETHER

DYING FOR YOUR LOVE

FRIENDSHIP, FOR ONCE

RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME

ANOTHER FOLK SONG ABOUT DEATH

ALL HER LIFE

ASCENDING CHATHAM HILL

THE DOG SHIT GANG

ANY GOOD ENGLISHMAN

EVEN AS IT RAINS DOWN HARD


Unravelling England (© Chris Broderick 2008/2009)

DIRTY DORA'S

OLD FERRY LANE

SONG FOR THE UNDERDOG

THE FAT BOY OF PECKHAM

PSYCHO HIPPIE

PLEASE TAKE MY SCISSORS AWAY

THE HOLES IN THE LID

SINCE YOU WERE MY GIRL


 The Drowned Man Resuscitator (© Chris Broderick 2007)

GOD BLESS THE WHORES OF ROCHESTER

IF YOU ARE NOT DEAD YET

THE DROWNED MAN RESUSCITATOR

THE TOPLESS TWINS OF ALLHALLOWS ON SEA

WHY, LORD?

TO A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN GROWING OLDER


Songs To Hear Before You Die (© Chris Broderick 2005)

ANGEL OF THE MEDWAY

BAKER’S ARMS (AUGUST ’58)

SKINNER’S RATS

THE PUB ON THE CORNER  (R.I.P the Roebuck)

SO LONG, MY OLD CHINA

HOUSE IN THE WOODS


And then there's....

SHUT YOUR MOUTH

 


SLAB O'SLATE

Unloved kid get no slab o’ slate.
Steal a tile from the old church roof,
Press it in the dirt, bow your heads.
Don’t forget to make a mark, scratch a heart
For the unloved kid.
Unloved kid get no slab o’ slate.
The unloved kid.

Cherish him, spare a tear.
Offer him simple things;
Cheap possessions. Scatter them,
So you remember where he lie, where he lie,
The unloved kid.
Unloved kid get no slab o’ slate.
The unloved kid.

Pull wild flowers, make a daisy chain.
Gather round, try a holy song;
Make it up out of words you heard.
Pause a while, try a prayer in the mud and rain
For the unloved kid.
Unloved kid get no slab o’ slate.
The unloved kid.

Crow come down from the poplar tree,
Seen it all in his old black eye.
Rip the lace, steal plastic rings,
Disturb the place. But he can’t fly no heavy stone
From the unloved kid.
Unloved kid got his slab o’ slate.
The unloved kid

Unloved kid got his slab o’ slate.
Unloved kid
Unloved.

 


WHERE'S MY MACHINE GUN?

Where I work, where I play,
Where I shop, where I pray.
Yes, I love you,
I respect you.
The fun’s begun.
Where’s my machine gun?

Love thy neighbour?
Do us a favour.
Drop down dead
You graceless piece of shite.

Where I bank, where I learn,
Where I vote; you must burn.
Yes, I love you,
I respect you.
The fun’s begun.
Where’s my machine gun?

I adore you,
I revere you,
Like a bomb;
You dishonourable toe-rag.

So, lie to me, edit me,
Shut my mouth, feel free to cheat me.
Yes, I love you,
I respect you.
The fun’s begun.
Where’s my machine gun?

Yes, I need you,
I have to breathe you.
You make me weep;
You foul, corrupted scab.

Have you not the simple, honest guts
To speak transparently?
What makes the world go round?
It’s clear to me, it’s inequality!

Yes, I love you,
I respect you.
The fun’s begun.
Where’s my machine gun?
My machine gun
My machine gun
My machine gun
My machine gun
 


NAIL IT BACK TOGETHER

Nail it back together
To keep out the weather.
Cos it got broke again,
This old heart again.

But I’ve got a big old box
Down in the cellar,
Where I keep all my stuff
For patching it up.
I’ve got rivets and rags,
I’ve got hooks and cement,
I’ve got leather and glue
And a rusty old screw.

Pull on a clean white shirt,
Drag myself back to work,
Looking good as new.
No-one will know.
It doesn’t show,
Does it?

Hammer it back together
To keep out the weather.
I got careless again,
With this old heart again.

But I’ve got a big old box
Down in the cellar,
Where I keep all my stuff
For bodging it up.
I’ve got canvas and tar,
I’ve got cat gut and wire.
Mud, sticks & stones
And some needles of bone.

Pull on a clean white shirt,
Drag myself back to work,
Looking good as new.
No-one will know.
It doesn’t show,
Does it?
I got screwed up newspaper
for packing the holes,
Polystyrene & sandbags
& lead that I stole.

Pull on a big warm coat,
Drag myself down the road.
Smiling at you.
No-one will ever know.
It doesn’t show,
Does it?
 


DYING FOR YOUR LOVE

Where do you get the power from?
How do you rule so casually?
Where do you get the power to so
Dumbfound and disillusion me?
But you do, you do,
A thousand times you do!

I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying.
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying.

Tell me why am I so open wide?
Why am I so liable? Please,
Why am I so open wide
To your infection and disease?
But I am, I am
A thousand times I am!

Will you hug me to death, oh
Hug me to death, oh
Hug me to death, and
Squeeze the breath...
Will you hug me to death, oh
Hug me to death, oh
Hug me to death, and
Squeeze the breath…

How come I choose to so misplace
My passion and reason? I despair.
How come I choose to so misplace,
Sincerely, my heart? Why do I care?
But I do, I do
A thousand times I do!

Smother me with kisses,
Smother me with kisses,
Smother me with kisses,
I beg you. Won’t you
Smother me with kisses,
Smother me with kisses,
Smother me with kisses,
Smother me.

I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I am dying.
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I’m dying for your love,
I am dying.

I’m dying.
 


FRIENDSHIP, FOR ONCE

When you feel like you’re living someone else’s life
And someone, somewhere is living yours;
Pull up a chair, with a coffee or wine,
I’ll try talking for once, dear friend of mine.
Keep my mind from the fumbling and tumbling for once
And I’ll try not to guess what’s under your dress.

I’ll try friendship for once.
No sex for now,
Cross my heart or I’ll die.
Let’s try friendship for once.
I promise I’ll try
That old dirty word - Platonic, for once.

I’m a typical man, took a lifetime to learn
That sex without love’s less than nothing sometimes.
When in my life will the devil be still?
I’m a dirty old dog and I’m mentally ill.
I’ve got nothing to prove and plenty to lose,
So, I’ll keep my eyes off your wonderful thighs.

I’ll try friendship for once.
No sex for now,
Cross my heart or I’ll die.
Let’s try friendship for once.
I promise I’ll try
That old dirty word - Platonic, for once.

Let’s try friendship for once.
Friendship for once.

Let’s try friendship for once.
Friendship for once.

Friendship for once.
 


RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME

Robin Hood lived in Upnor Wood,
But all alone in my book.
Making arrows, skinning little bunnies;
Merry on his own.
You won’t find me in my Lincoln green,
Not even Virgil in Thunderbird Three (SIC)

Robinson Crusoe; my favourite hero.
Why can’t I be shipwrecked?
On Upnor beach, hide away from Friday,
Wipe away my footprints.
No smoke, no fire. That’s my plan.
Just a funeral pyre for Action Man.

Now you’ve seen the living last of me.
I won’t be home for my tea.
I like digging, much more than I like climbing,
Though I’m scared of darkness.
Now no-one, never, no more, will ever touch me
In the roots beneath the Hawthorn tree.
 


ANOTHER FOLK SONG ABOUT DEATH

I’ll be squatting on the cistern while you’re straining on the toilet
On your wedding night. Shame to have to spoil it.
I’ll be spying through the keyhole as you hump away in bed.
Soon the vein will burst inside your head.
Surprises are delicious. Aren’t they what life’s all about?
Where’s the fun if you could sniff me out?

I am not cruel, partial or subjective,
So don’t blame me… Oh, well, if you must.
I can’t be bribed, swindled or outwitted.
If not me, who can you trust?

I nab the beauties, oh, especially the beauties.
You understand it’s just my duty.
I creep right up behind them as they hit the sparkling town
And pull there knickers down.
I’ll be grinning through the windscreen of that special ten ton truck.
Madam, you’re about to come unstuck.

Hell or heaven? You’ll find I’m not judgemental.
I don’t care. It’s not my business.
O dear, oh dear, you didn’t see me coming?
No big goodbye, or little kiss?

I’m the hand that grabs your ankle as you’re skipping down the stairs
Whoops! Let me scoop up all your cares.
I’ll escort you by the balls, sir, to a consequential date.
Nasty cough; have another fag, mate.
I might whisper self destruction as a strange compelling need
Then sidle off and whistle while you bleed.

I love to laugh at honour and resilience
And to the brave: the poison cup.
You’ll often find my spittle on their faces,
And the unfulfilled crack me up.
 


ALL HER LIFE

Kentish rag stone
Dressed with flint,
Topped with glass,
Broken glass.
Two men high,
One man deep
Are the walls,
Asylum walls.

Through the bars she is singing
Where’ve you gone, my only son?
But the stars, they’re not listening
Turned away, every one.

‘You are not wed,
Therefore mad.
Where’s your shame?
We took your shame
Far away,
For your own good.
Brand new name,
Secret name.’

Through the bars she is singing
Where’ve you gone, my only son?
But the stars, they’re not listening
Turned away, every one.

‘You disgusting,
Dirty girl.
Live with us,
Pray with us.
Close your legs,
Mend your sin.
That’s the law,
English law.’

Through the bars she is singing
Where’ve you gone, my only son?
But the stars, they’re not listening
Turned away, every one.

‘Soon there’ll be man
On the moon,
So they say.
But we say -
Until then,
Here you’ll stay.
All your life,
All your life.’

Through the bars she is singing
Where’ve you gone, my only son?
But the stars, they’re not listening
Turned away, every one.
 


ASCENDING CHATHAM HILL

It’s a long, long way up Chatham Hill,
From the Luton Road Railway Arches
To the Jezreels Hose Clip Factory.
It’s a thorny hill to paradise,
From the High Street Cash Converters
To the second hand Medway Motor Dealers.

One glorious day I will enter the Eden of Upper Gillingham,
By whirlwind and fiery chariot.
There to rest where the air is sweet,
The course of my earthly life complete.

Sing Gillingham! - Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gill-ing-ham!

It’s a long, long way up Chatham Hill,
From the Luton Road Railway Arches
To the Jezreels Hose Clip Factory.
It’s a thorny hill to paradise,
From the High Street Cash Converters
To the second hand Medway Motor Dealers.

And there, my glittering prize - I claim salvation in Upper Gillingham.
By virgins and apostles attended.
To banish my tormentor
To the wastes of the Pentagon Shopping Centre.

Sing Gillingham! - Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gill-ing-ham!

It’s a long, long way up Chatham Hill,
From the Luton Road Railway Arches
To the Jezreels Hose Clip Factory.
It’s a thorny hill to paradise,
From the High Street Cash Converters
To the second hand Medway Motor Dealers.

To view, from dizzying high, the crystal waters of the Medway River.
And rising from the mists on its verdant bank,
The towers of the Inland Revenue.
Together now- You Hindu, Christian, you Muslim and Jew!

Sing Gillingham! - Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gillingham!
Sing Gill-ing-ham!
 


THE DOG SHIT GANG

Life ain’t fair; it’s who you know.
There’s nepotism down at the depot.
Man and boy I’ve swept the roads,
Knackered me back dragging heavy loads.
I’m conscientious but I’m overlooked
By the councils secret society.
They never listen to a Muppet like me -
I need the afternoons to write me poetry!
I want to roam through the alleyways, job and knock,
But this bloody job’s got me in a headlock.

I want to be in the dog shit gang.
Why can’t I be in the dog shit gang?
Haven’t I proved I’m worthwhile yet?
Ain’t it about time for my re-birth yet?
They never touch the fresh ones; they leave ‘em for a week.
I’m telling you, brother, it’s a right old clique.
I want to be……
Why can’t I be
In the dog shit gang?

I deserve, and I have earned,
And I desire, and I aspire.
I’ve done my time on the weeds and bins.
I seem to be paying for a million sins.
For years and years I’ve swept and scooped
Condoms and needles and last night’s puke.
They’re off fishing, while I’m left wishing
I had time to improve my photography!
I don’t even want to drive the ‘Scarab‘, mate;
I just want a say in my effing fate.

I want to be in the dog shit gang
Why can’t I be in the dog shit gang?
Haven’t I proved I’m worthwhile yet?
Ain’t it about time for my re-birth yet?
They only pick the dry ones with a special technique -
I’m telling you, brother, it’s a right old clique.
I want to be…
Why can’t I be
In the dog shit gang?

‘Shag them weeds out, boy!’

I’m shagging ‘em out. Fuck off.
 


ANY GOOD ENGLISHMAN

Like any good Englishman I enjoy humour
With all due seriousness.
The sadness of laughter rings like a bell
And all’s well.
Laugh, laugh till your belly aches
And you almost remember who you are.
Almost remember, almost, who you are.

Like any good Englishman I try expression
With all due seriousness.
The voice in the vacuum rings like a bell
And all’s well.
Sing, sing till your throat’s so raw
That you almost discover who you are.
Almost discover, almost, who you are.

Like any good Englishman I’ve learned the bingeing
With all due seriousness.
The action of alcohol rings like a bell
And all’s well.
Drink, drink till you’re invincible
And you almost forget who you are.
Almost forget, almost, who you are.

Like any good Englishman I approach loving
With all due seriousness.
The stuff in my head is cracked like a bell
And all’s well.
Love, love till your insides are out
And your briefly become who you are.
Briefly become, briefly, who you are.

Cry, cry till you’re empty again
And you almost go back to who you were.
Almost go back to, almost, who you were.
 


EVEN AS IT RAINS DOWN HARD

Even as it rains down hard
I will find you.
And you’ll love me,
Like I love you,
Like I tried to love you.
 


DIRTY DORA’S

After school when we were 13,
Count our money, looking keen.
Come on, hurry to the sweet shop, boys
Not for chocolate, not for toys.

She sold cigarettes one by one,
She sold luverly, bubbly bitter beer.

Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Praise the lord, they never caught her.
Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Blew your Tesco’s out the water!

After school when we were 13
Making sure we wasn’t seen
Up the alley and across the rails.
Live forever and we’re hard as nails.

She sold cigarettes one by one,
She sold luverly, bubbly bitter beer.

Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Praise the lord, they never caught her.
Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Blew your Tesco’s out the water!

(INST)
Then one day she locked the door,
Crying “Give me cuddles, give me more.
Me husband Fred’s got a gangrene leg
And he’s dying slowly up in bed.”

And she sold Polaroids for a cheeky smile,
She sold whisky for a sloppy kiss.

Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Praise the lord, they never caught her.
Dirty, dirty Dora’s
Blew your Tesco’s out the water!

God bless Dirty Dora,
God bless Dirty Dora.
Lonely Dirty Dora,
Lonely Dirty Dora.
Lonely,
Lonely,
Dirty Dora.

 


OLD FERRY LANE

There's a bend in the river
Beyond my garden wall -
Collects the dreams, the broken dreams
From the bridge away upstream.
Where the swallow divers
With their broken hearts
Wash up at Ferry Lane,
Where the Pilgrims crossed.
Now the only ones
Are the ever lost.
When the tide goes out
Their pain remains,
Lapping soft
In old Ferry Lane.

There's a sound from the river
Calls me when I'm in bed.
I hear the willows, the weeping willows
In the pillow beneath my head.
All the tears and anger
And the sunken hopes
Wash up at Ferry Lane,
Where the churchyard waits
Ever patiently
For the names and dates.
When the tide goes out
Their songs remain,
Calling me
To old Ferry Lane.

 


SONG FOR THE UNDERDOG

Praise be the lovely completely un-savvy,
Believers and lovers, dumbfounded by politics.
Blundering truthfully, stumbling with dignity,
Crying when needs be, but fighting for their right to be.

The folk that I speak to ain't got the old school tie,
The folk that will hear me mightn't recognise a lie.
Vict'ries helped no man consider his fellow.
Maybe the failures gain more than you think that you know, don't you know!


Praise be the luckless, the low and frustrated,
Devoted and loyal, without no agenda.
Blind to the nods and winks, nothing falls in their lap.
Not knowing or caring of life's age old handicap.

The folk that I speak to ain't them that's connected,
The folk that will hear me ain't over protected.
Them that is laughed at ain't always the fool,
And the malice of circumstance will overrule
us again. As ever, ever!

La la la la la…..

 


THE FAT BOY OF PECKHAM

I'm the Fat Boy Of Peckham aged twelve and a half
I weigh twenty stone and I'm good for a laugh
And if village boys chuck things and kick up a noise
Well, I ask 'em - How much are you earning boys?

The Lion Faced Lady's as good as a mum
And the Strong Man looks out for me, sneaks me a rum.
Well, I've Bonjoured in France and I've joked with the King
And the Skeleton Woman has taught me to sing.

I'm a curio
In a travelling show
I don't mind being a big fat boy, me
But I'd rather be
A giant.

Well, Tattooed Tatiana soon showed me her anchor
And picking her scabs she said 'Taste salt and hanker!'
Then she left me tossed to the waves and the fog
She said I was green, I was sick as a dog!

At Greenwich a Captain with a chest full of gold
Took fancy to prizes he stowed in the hold
Our own pretty twins, name of Lilly and Lu
He hoped they could show him a good trick or two!

I'm a curio
In a travelling show
I don't mind being a big fat boy, me
But I'd rather be
A giant.

This morning we're striking on old Peckham Rye
When she who gave birth to me gives me the eye
And she offers five guineas as quick as you like
But I'm glad the Guvner said take a long hike

When I grow up I'll go down on my knee
And I'll ask Lilliputia if she'll marry me
We'll set up together in our own painted 'van
Lace in the windows and kept spick and span
I'm a curio
In a travelling show
I don't mind being a big fat boy, me
But, I'd rather be
A giant.
A giant.

Sometimes I wish I was the Giant.


 


PSYCHO HIPPIE

Don’t get lippy with a psycho hippie,
No matter how sincere.
He’s rather slippy and he ain’t as drippy
As at first he might appear.

Sneaky bugger, he’s a secret slugger
And he’d love to break your jaw.
He’ll skewer your guts and juggle your nuts
And nail ‘em to the door.

Let’s have some blow, seen a UFO
Let’s jam, man, I’m a rainbow.
Pseudo in limbo.
At least you know where you are with a chav.

*

Don’t get lippy with a psycho hippie,
No matter how sincere.
He’s rather slippy and he ain’t as drippy
As at first he might appear.

His T shirt reads ‘Love is all you need’
But his knuckles favour ‘WAR!’
With his hidden tattoo spelling out ‘Fuck You!
- It’s bruises I adore!’

Join the flow, we can make some dough
Flogging ethnic wear at the Green fair.
Is it fair trade? He don’t care.
At least you know where you are with a gangster.

*

Don’t get lippy with a psycho hippie,
No matter how sincere.
He’s rather slippy and he ain’t as drippy
As at first he might appear.

Swears his acid brain is on a higher plane,
‘specially when he’s on the booze.
Oh, and furthermore, he’s a carnivore
Watch out for his Tofu stews!

Let’s have some blow, seen a UFO
Let’s jam, man, I’m a rainbow.
Pseudo in limbo.
At least you know where you are with the mafia.

 


PLEASE TAKE MY SCISSORS AWAY

May I cut your silhouette, Sir?
Immortalise your bust, Madam?
May I render your luverly children in black?
And, if they're a bit fidgety, give them a smack?
I'm so lately ill at ease.

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

For years and years and donkey's years
I’ve practised here, here on the pier.
Superior portraits in shadow, with feeling,
But no-one now wants their physiognomy revealing.
Anyone would think I had a vile disease

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

It's the fault of the photographers, yes,
Those pornographers, damn them! So crass.
"Are you watching the dickie-bird? Say - Cheese!" And SNAP!
Where’s the bloody, fucking skill in that?
I'm so lately ill at ease.

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

Please take my scissors away…
Away… Away… Away…
Please take my scissors away…
Away… Away… Away…

Take them away….

Take me away…
Away… Away… Away…

 


THE HOLES IN THE LID

Don’t you play with us
And shake us all about.
Cos if that’s your idea of fun
You leave me little doubt.
If you‘re playing hide ‘n‘ seek
Well, I don‘t think it‘s fair.

You’re not here, you’re not there,
I don’t believe you’re anywhere.
So, cover the holes in the lid.
No one will know what you did.

Come on, strike me down
For my rotten sin.
I dare you. It’s a whopper, sir!
I’ll take it on the chin.
If you want to stand and stare
Well, I don’t think it’s fair.

You’re not here, you’re not there,
I don’t believe you’re anywhere.
Just cover the holes in the lid.
And I won’t tell what you did.

You hold a candle up
To light our way to bed.
Then you take a great big axe
To chop off all our heads.
If you only laugh at us,
Well, I don’t think it’s fair.

You’re not here, you’re not there,
I don’t believe you’re anywhere.
Please cover the holes in the lid.
And I won’t tell what you did.

It would be cruel not to
Cover the holes in the lid.
No one will guess what you did.

 


SINCE YOU WERE MY GIRL

How you doing my fine one?
Fancy meeting you here.
I want to kiss you, but all I say
Is how the world gets smaller each day

I must give you my number
I should tell you my thoughts -
That the world seems so much bigger
Since you, you were my girl.

Since you were my girl
Since you were my girl
The world seems so much bigger to me
Since you were my girl

I heard you're going to Australia
The other side of the world.
"Don't worry, it's not far", you say
Cos the world gets smaller each day.

Let your hair loose, my darling.
I have no right to say that.
But the world seems so confusing
Since you, you were my girl.

CHORUS

I know now that you loved me
But then I could not believe.
Take my best wishes faraway
The world's just like you say.

I should have married you then,
But then I was just a boy
Made up of mud, sticks and stone
Who thought he could live on his own

CHORUS

 


ANGEL OF THE MEDWAY

 If we should fall from the bridge

With a cannonball in our coats

If we should topple overboard

With a chain around our throats

Forgive our strange behaviour

Quiet, hidden saviour

 

If we should slip from the edge

While distracted in our thoughts

If we should stumble from the path

While feeling overwrought

Forgive us our strange behaviour

Gentle, smiling saviour

 

And lift us from the muddy water

Lift us from the muddy water

Wrap your wings around us

Wrap your wings around us

 

Some say you’re only make believe

But I know where you sleep

You are forever benign and watching

In the shadow of the keep

 

And I have seen dolphins and whales and flamingos

As far as Chatham Reach

And I have seen mermaids and mermen on horses

And I have heard them speak

 

So, lift us from the muddy water

Lift us from the muddy water

Wrap your wings around us

Wrap your wings around us

 (INSTRUMENTAL)

 

Lift us from the muddy water

Lift us from the muddy water

Wrap your wings around us

Wrap your wings around us

 

…Around us.

 


BAKER’S ARMS (AUGUST ’58)

 

She’ll have a babycham, cherry on a stick

I’ll have a bitter, make it quick !

Said lucky Tom in the bar of the Baker's Arms

On a hot August night in ’58.

 

Get it down you and come outside

Don’t you believe ‘em, girl, they all lied -

Said the big married man to the tiny little blond

On a hot August night in ‘58

  

Across the street in the trolley bus depot

The drivers were brewing their tea

And the Plaza was showing “East of Eden” again

And the Sally Army man thought it smelled like rain

And the jukebox was playing “That’ll be the Day”

“That’ll be the Day”

 

 Come to the fun fair tomorrow night

I work the waltzers; you’ll be all right –

As he pushed her up the alley by the Bakers Arms

On a hot August night in ‘58

 

Then from his pocket he took a knife

And in a second he changed her life

As the brick dust stuck to her ruined mohair coat

On a hot August night in ‘58

 

 Across the street in the trolley bus depot

The drivers were brewing their tea

And the Plaza was showing “East of Eden” again

And the Sally Army man thought it smelled like rain

And the jukebox was playing “That’ll be the Day”

“That’ll be the Day”

 

 The gang ran out and saved her skin

They saw him off and helped her in

But the seed in her belly was swelling already

On a hot August night in ‘58

 

That lucky Tom was well away

She dried her eyes for school next day

And turned her back on the noise from the Bakers Arms

On a hot August night in ‘58

 

Across the street in the trolley bus depot

The drivers were brewing their tea

And the Plaza was showing “East of Eden” again

And the Sally Army man thought it smelled like rain

And the jukebox was playing “That’ll be the Day”

“That’ll be the Day”

 

On a hot August night in 1958.

 


SKINNER’S RATS

 Way beneath the working class

Way below the unemployed

Take a look and you will see

Millions working for the agency

 

You might call us a brand new class

You might think we’re proud of nothing

Trained to jump at ringing bells

Who are we? We’re the ne’er do wells

 

We’re the underclass

We're the underclass

In England's green and pleasant land

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats.

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats!

 

Way beneath the working class

Way below the unemployed

Take a look and you will see

Millions working for the agency

 

Packing up boxes for a fiver an hour

While the supervisor watches from the searchlight tower

You give ‘em of your best and take a load of abuse

And they can sack you in a minute with no excuse

 

We’re the underclass

We’re the underclass

In England's green and pleasant land

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats.

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats!

 

 Reinforcement.

Small reward.

Conditioning.

Anxiety.

 

We’re the underclass

We’re the underclass

In England's green and pleasant land.

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats

Like Skinner’s rats

Useless brats!

 


THE PUB ON THE CORNER  (R.I.P the Roebuck)

 The Chief Constable’s missus

Flat out on the floor

With her legs in the air

And her head out the door.

But I’d best not tell you

What she said, what I saw

But it sure beats the telly

And it’s better than war.

 

There’s a pub on the corner

“Ye Old Lost & Found”

So let your feet wander

And follow me round.

 

The pumps are full of magic

The barmaid’s real hot

You can find what you’re longing for

Lose what you’re not.

 

There’s a pub on the corner

“Ye Old Lost & Found”

And tonight, tonight

You can fly and not drown.

 

I’ve planned a revolution

I’ve nearly gone mad

I’ve sold all that’s dear

But the beer’s never bad.

I’ve took off me clothes

And I’ve broken me nose,

I’ve sung till they’ve booted me

Back to the “Rose”

 

CHORUS

 

I’ve had sex in the car park

Tears in the bogs

And the other way round

Coming back from the dogs.

I’ve kissed a hundred ugly barmaids

Lost two hundred fights

But I regret nothing

…Until it is light.

 

Take my hand

Hold me up

Push me home

Find my key.

I don’t know you

But I love you

Come all live with me…

 

There’s a pub on the corner

“Ye Old Lost & Found”

So let your feet wander

And follow me round.

 

The pumps are full of magic

The barmaid’s real hot

You can find what you’re longing for

Lose what you’re not.

 

There’s a pub on the corner

“Ye Old Lost & Found”

And tonight, tonight

You can fly and not drown.

 


SO LONG, MY OLD CHINA

 You called me Old China

You played darts with nails

Had a trial for Millwall

After 14 brown ales

 

Drove a forty foot lorry

Proper sheeted and roped

Had me for a son

Is that what you hoped?

 

Your jacket don’t fit me

So, give us a rest, mate

I can’t follow your footsteps

They’re too big, they’re too straight

 

“Keep your eye on the ball, son”

“Don’t snatch at the trigger”

A few words of wisdom

Like John Wayne, but bigger

 

You grew up at El Alemein

Not long out of school

You only cried once

You big, bloody fool

 

Your jacket don’t fit me

So, give us a rest, mate

I can’t follow your footsteps

They’re too big, they’re too straight

 

Then as you lay dying

Your face went to stone

You said  "Jesus won’t help you

We’re all on our own."

 

You visit my dreams every night

And I wake up weeping

Chewing the fat until light

When I should be sleeping

 

I’m too small for your jacket

So, give us a rest, mate

I can’t follow your footsteps

They’re too big, they’re too straight

 

So,

So long

So long

So long, my old china

 

So long

So long

So long, my old mate.

 


HOUSE IN THE WOODS

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to make my plates & pots & pans

I want to make my plates & pots & pans

 

Time for sitting

Time for loving

Time a-plenty for doing nothing

One pair of boots

For work & walking

Dust ‘em off when I go a-courting

 

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to eat what I grow, or what I catch

I want to eat what I grow, or what I catch

 

Time for sitting

Time for loving

Time a-plenty for doing nothing

One pair of boots

For work & walking

Dust ‘em off when I go a-courting

 

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to work right next to the place I live

I want to work right next to the place I live

 

Time for sitting

Time for loving

Time a-plenty for doing nothing

One pair of boots

For work & walking

Dust ‘em off when I go a-courting

 

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want to build me a simple house in the woods

I want the time for playing like a little kid

I want the time for playing like a little kid

 

Time for sitting

Time for loving

Time a-plenty for doing nothing

One pair of boots

For work & walking

Dust ‘em off when I go a-courting

 

Lost in the car park, lost in Tescos

 

Can’t work the radio, call u.n.e.s.c.o

Smash my mobile, burn my TV

Call me a hypocrite?  A little bit, maybe

 

All we need is a simple house in the woods

All we need is a simple house in the woods

All we need is a simple house in the woods

All we need is a simple house in the woods.

 


GOD BLESS THE WHORES OF ROCHESTER

 

Up behind the railings

On the dirty side of town

Where the river used to flood,

See 'em strolling up and down.

 

Underneath the railway bridge

They're jumping in the cold,

Slip sliding in the pigeon shit,

Laughing, flashing gold.

 

You really make my night,

You colour in the dark and grey.

Keep yourselves safe, my loves

And never, never go away.

 

Been here now a thousand years,

Though, the boats have long gone.

When every house was a whore house

And every shop was a flop

 

Now the council tell the cops

Turn this wicked town around

Things around here ain't decent anymore

Move 'em on, get 'em out!

 

You really make my night,

You colour in the dark and grey.

Keep yourselves safe, my loves

And never, never, never go away.

 

 

 


IF YOU ARE NOT DEAD YET

 

If you are not dead yet

Let me see thee pirouette

Now piss your pants and pick your nose

And pull on clownish hose.

 

Come join the circle, holding hands

A naked, witty, jolly band

A pride of innocent buffoons

Wanking at the moon

 

Hullabaloo

Playing the fool

What's it to you?

Cock-a-doodle-doo!  Oi!

If you are not dead yet

Let me see thee pirouette

Now bash your head and squeeze your balls,

Delight in prattish falls

 

Now come and jest with us, Sir

And prove you are a knave, Sir!

When tragedy, the rotten runt

Kicks you up the… Oi!

 

Hullabaloo

Playing the fool

What's it to you?

Cock-a-doodle-doo! Oi!

 


THE DROWNED MAN RESUSCITATOR

 I have here an invention made

Come, gather round, be not afraid

Behold every man at death's creaking door

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 

Ai - Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - ee - Ai

Ai - Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - ee - O

Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - Ai - Ai - ee Ai - ee - Or

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 

Of leather, brass, new fangled clocks

From a velvet linéd wooden box

My pipes and my bellows with the power to restore

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 

Bring me a corpse found tickled to death

Whom life has left so lacking of breath

The cure for a soul washed up upon the shore

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 

How does it work?  I hear you cry

Come show me a guinea and you'll get my reply

Bend over, Sir, there's a penny on the floor

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 

Ai - Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - ee - Ai

Ai - Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - ee - O

Ai - Ai - ee - Ai - Ai - Ai - ee Ai - ee - Or

The drownéd man resuscitator.

 


THE TOPLESS TWINS OF ALLHALLOWS-ON-SEA

A thousand years ago when I was 16, or was it yesterday when I was horny, moody & mean?

We would mount our Yamaha FS1E's and fly and fizz our way towards Allhallows-On-Sea.

Why?

Because, looming out the gloom - the British Pilot function room.

And there the lights were flashing, there the weekend began.

There the dancers go-go'd beyond compare

And their breasts, their breasts, their breasts

Were absolutely bare!

 

Through the country lanes at 40 miles an hour, past the Halfway House and stop for a fag by the water tower.

Check we got our entrance fee, 50p, then carry on our way towards Allhallows-On-Sea. 

Why?

Because, looming out the gloom - the British Pilot function room.

And there the lights were flashing, there the weekend began.

There the dancers go-go'd beyond compare

And their breasts, their breasts, their breasts

Were absolutely bare!

  

My head is spinning faster than my wheels are turning.  I'm bursting out me Sta-Prest, every bump is a physical yearning.

Scuffing up our Monkey boots dangerously, screeching round the bends towards Allhallows-On-Sea.

Why?

 Because, looming out the gloom - the British Pilot function room.

And there the lights were flashing, there the weekend began.

There the dancers go-go'd beyond compare

And their breasts, their breasts, their breasts

Were absolutely bare!

 

        The topless twins of Allhallows-on-Sea

        Why don't you ever look directly at me?

        Though you are prob'ly 18 and I am just a kid.

        I 'm gonna be a pop star.  You'll wish you bloody did!

 

And there the lights were flashing, there the weekend began.

There the dancers go-go'd beyond compare

And their breasts, their breasts, their breasts

Were absolutely bare!

 


WHY LORD?

 

As an atheist

I shouldn't ask this question:

Why Lord?

Why Lord,

Is it so hard to remember

To be kind?

Why is it so hard?

 

As a non-believer

I couldn't care less, but

Why Lord?

Why Lord

Is it so easy, so damn easy

To be bad?

Why's it such a doddle?

 

I have renounced you

So shut your ears.

Why Lord?

Why Lord

Does it take such little effort

To lie and hurt?

No imagination

To skin your lover alive?

 

Why Lord?

Why Lord,

Is it so hard to remember

To be kind?

Why is it so hard?

 

 


TO A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN GROWING OLDER

 

As you take off your clothes

At the end of another weary day

You look better to my eyes than ever.

And sometimes you need some reassurance,

Well, rest assured you'll be as sexy as hell forever.

 

Through the heartbreaks

And lies

I still see in your eyes

You're dreaming,

Still dreaming.

 

As you take off your make up

And become shy again like a child

Worrying over things that have flown

I must remember that for all your experience

You can feel frightened and vulnerable and alone.

 

Oh, I see the madness

And the wine

And the partings

And the brine

And the children

...The children

 

 


SHUT YOUR MOUTH

ARFUR

You're a bloody disgrace,

I spit in your face,

I piss on all you've done.

You'll never succeed at anything,

You're no good to anyone.

 

You squandered your life,

You wrestled your wife,

You buggered your only son

And the world will dance a merry jig

When, at last, you're dead and gone.

 

CHORUS

You shut your mouth, You shut your mouth,

You festering faggot, you fool.

You shut your mouth, you shut your mouth,

You might learn something.

You shut your mouth, you shut your mouth,

You gibbering, gormless ghoul.

You big-headed bugger,

You bald, bony bastard,

You boggle-eyed bigot, you bum,

You shut your mouth!

 

BROD

You slippery devil

Your head’s full of piddle

Your cock is in a sling

You’re a rotten, long-haired layabout

And you cannot even sing.

 

You slept with your dog

And you smell like a bog

And will I never be free?

The world will dance a merry jig

When you’re swinging from a tree

 

CHORUS

 

BROD

And still you smile

And all the while

You haven’t got a clue

Good people of the medway towns

Are coming after you

 

It’s a terrible shame

But you’re not to blame

Your lobotomy never healed

We’ll have to cut you up

And kick your bladder round a field

 

ARFUR

You diminutive twat

Your manners are crap,

You've a brain, I've never denied;

When you move around

I can hear the sound as it rattles about inside.

 

When you walk down the street,

The children you meet

All turn on their heels and run,

Crying - Mother, I've seen the Elephant Man

And look out, cos here he comes.

 

CHORUSES

 

You shut your bloody mouth, you shut your mouth!