Cup
Of Wonder |
(continuation)
(1993)
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Commons BrawlNo StepDrive On The Young Side Of LifeI Don't Want to Be MeBroadford BazaarLights OutTruck Stop RunnerHard Liner1. My Round: Chateau D'Isaster Tapes2. Your Round: Unreleased & Rare TracksCommons BrawlAll right and honorable gentlemen and lady, too Will kindly try to restrain themselves in derring-do As verbal hard graffiti flies and echoes wall to wall Our precious model of democracy, it's the House of Commons brawl One member from some dark mill town furious did cry, Spittle froth from folded chin to dim the lie. Let's serve this brief and list the rush of boos and loud catcalls Let's finish this right here and now at the House of Commons brawl Kick, punch with the government As with jackets off they fly heaven-bent. Scratch gouge with the other side As the party firmly mid-divides. Another day in the lives of those who would guide us through, If all is prepped that we should by their example do But there again I think for less for gyving to the wall The wrong house but the right idea to end the Commons brawl No StepI looked out of my window, saw a stencil black, No step. No step. There were nervous mothers with children crying in the back. No step. No step. Someone bought me my ticket, now I'm on the wing. Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing? No step. No step. Those afterburners cut in and kicked us high. No step. No step. The thin air shimmered, the sun cut through and burned my eye. No step. No step. Someone bought me my ticket, now I'm on the wing. Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing? No step. No step No step. No step No step. No step No step. Give me a jet stream schooner or a crew-legged goose. No step. No step. I'm a clear-air jockey when they turn me loose No step. No step. Someone bought me my ticket to the captain's seat. Will the shakes soon leave me, will I find my feet? No step. No step. No step. No step. No step. Drive On The Young Side Of LifeYour mother she protected you And softened every blow And brought you up to fear the worst To be careful as you go. And the learned educators With drip-feed [thrifty?] facts to fill You up to here with reason Well-meaning overkill. If you find yourself a-growing to be old before your time, Get off the endless corridor Set your soul out on the line. Drive on the young side of life Drive on the young side of life Drive on the young side of life When the pressure pains are building And you're forced to join the crush In the race to mediocrity So respectable and plush. And while the child within is raging And threatens to break out, Get off the endless corridor Make a timely turnabout. Drive on the young side of life, Drive on the young side of life, Drive on the young side of life. Drive on the young side of life, Drive on the young side of life, Drive on the young side of life. Drive on the young side of life Drive on the young side of life I Don't Want to Be MeGot a grand house out in the country. Marble pillars holding the door. Empty bottles lining the wall from the night before. Got a Roller out in the garage. But the wheels are stuck to the floor. Got no reason to go anywhere, no friends call anymore. I don't want to be me, I don't want to be me, I know it's hard to see, but I don't want to be me. Had me playing down at the palace. I was declared the belle of the ball. Made the boys take my goods and chattels away, now I'm staring at an empty hall. I don't want to be me, I don't want to be me, I know it's hard to see, but I don't want to be me. Pardon me I'm on my way. Pardon me but I'm going. Taking on the simple life and I feel the grass roots growing. I'm going to ride the ragged road, diamond spurs jangling into the sunset. No circuits running overload Well maybe I'm not done yet. Now there's nothing left in the cupboard and three bears' been eating my soup. My life is one big critical mess if you take a look. And the butler's off in Ibiza on expense account gone berserk. But I can't check out of this crazy world without being a jerk I don't want to be me. I don't want to be me, I know it's hard to see, but I don't want to be me. Pardon me I'm on my way. Pardon me but I'm going. Taking on the simple life and I feel the grass roots growing. I'm going to ride the ragged road, diamond spurs jangling into the sunset. No circuits running overload Well maybe I'm not done yet. No maybe I'm not done yet. Broadford BazaarDirty white caravans down narrow roads sailing. Vivas, Cortinas, weaving in their wake. With hot, red-faced drivers, horns flattened, fists whaling, Putting trust in blind corners as they overtake. And it's "All come willing now, Spend a shilling now, Stack up the back of your new motor-car.'' There's home-dyed woolens, and wee plastic Cuillins The day of the Broadford Bazaar. Out of the north, no oil-rigs are drifting. And jobs for the many are down to the few. Blue-bottle choppers, they visit no longer. Like flies to the jampots, they were just passing through. And it's "All come willing now, Spend a shilling now, Stack up the back of your new motor-car'' Where once stood oil-rigs so phallic There's only swear-words in Gaelic To say at the Broadford bazaar. All kinds of people come down for the opening. Crofters and cottars, white settlers galore. And up on the hill, there's an old sheep that's dying, But it had two new lambs born just a fortnight before. And it's "All come willing now, Spend a shilling now, Stack up the back of your new motor-car.'' We'll take pounds, francs and dollars from the well-heeled, And stamps from the Green Shield. The day of the Broadford Bazaar. Lights OutLast light's out. They're all abed And something's in my room, Creeping down towards me on the wall. Daddy said it's just some flickering headlight through the gloom, Making shapes through trees outside the hall. But what the hell does he know? He doesn't feel the dread The cold restricting terror in the dark. I've seen that silhouette before Something the newsman said Something about some monster in the park It's you, you're the man on the TV screen. It's you front page face of the dead. Locked up in the light of day At night come out to play To terrorize me there above my bed. The air is still and heavy now, There's thunder in the sky. He's dreaming up some message he can send. I'm scared completely helpless and I think I'm going to cry. Are grownups brave or do they just pretend? His face is growing clearer. I can see his eyes glow red. My teddy bear's the only friend I can feel. The shadow's hand slips down the wall And touches teddy's head I now suspect that shadow will touch me. It's you, you're the man on the TV screen. It's you front page face of the dead. Locked up in the light of day At night come out to play To terrorize me there above my bed. It's you, you're the man on the TV screen. It's you front page face of the dead. Locked up in the light of day At night come out to play To terrorize me there above my bed. Truck Stop RunnerStopped off on a long drive. Down from the high country. Spent a long time sitting here, Long time counting hot miles. Ohh, oh I'd like a cup of black coffee and a piece of sweet cake. But the girl in the print dress doesn't want my money she won't take it: she says Oh she says. Oh she says I just know you're a Leo, I can tell you've got a lion's heart. She went on in this way for a while, Like some 60's sister playing a part. Oh this cup of black coffee gonna do me just fine. Through the dust in the mirror tiles I can see that door, Keep it close behind. Oh she says. She says, come on over to my house, make a journey here sometime. You know there's a party going on, a ladder in my stocking you can climb, There's a ladder you can climb. Oh she looked so liberated. She was looking fit to start. She got this back to front and sideways, wore her sleeve upon her heart. Ohhh, oh, just one more coffee's 'bout all I can take. Have to do a truck stop runner now. I'm not man enough to make it, She says. She says. Oh she says. She says, come on over to my house, make a journey here sometime. You know there's a party going on, a ladder in my stocking you can climb, There's a ladder you can climb. Stopped off on a long drive. Down from the high country. Spent a long time sitting here, Long time counting hot miles. Ohh, oh I'd like a cup of black coffee and a piece of sweet cake. But the girl in the print dress doesn't want my money she won't take it: she says Oh she says. She says, come on over to my house, make a journey here sometime. Kick off those tired sports shoes got a ladder in my stocking you can climb, There's a ladder you can climb. Truck stop runner. I'll be a truck stop runner. Truck stop runner. Truck stop runner. Hard LinerHard liner, she brings ice when I bring fire. She's a hard liner. Tightrope cross Niagara. She'd cut the wire. Never feel a thing. Walked the sidewalk of another strange avenue. Kicked my heels and wished my feet were in some other shoes. But I'm not running from that hard liner. Well she brings ice when I bring fire. She's a real hard liner. How does she retain my heart's desire? It's a funny thing. Knows what she wants, knows how to get it, too. Scares me with cold logic, scares me with the witch's brew. But I keep on drinking. Hard liner. Hard liner. I'm framed and I'm hanging on the wall. She's a hard liner. I'm like some big game trophy hat-stand in the hall. But I remember warm and loving nights. Her [red?] hair, restaurants, Swaying bust, headlights It's a funny thing. Hard liner. Yeah, she brings ice when I bring fire. Hard liner. Tightrope 'cross Niagara, don't cut my wire. Hard liner, hard, hard liner. She brings sun when I bring rain. She's a real hard liner. Yeah, we've got it all crossed up again. Hard liner. Hard liner. Now I don't think we can stay in the same town. (Note: special thanks to Bernard Matthews and Neil Thomason for their corrections - JV) |
© Chrysalis Records Ltd., London, UK, 1993 - All Rights Reserved
Please send your comments or information regarding these lyrics to jvoorbij@kabelfoon.nl
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