The final verse of the D-Day Dodgers (To the tune of Lili Marlena)
When you look around the mountains through the mud and rain You'll see the crosses some that bear no name Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone The boys beneath them soldier on They were the D-Day dodgers who'll stay in Italy
The whole song makes me weep every time i hear it!
Desolation Row by Dylan is a great metaphor for Brexit. Just change some of the characters referenced to current politicians eg Theresa May=Cinderella, Boris=The Blind Commissioner. ‘They’re selling postcards of the hanging, They’re painting the passports brown...’
''Started out in innocence, the way that most things do A 1,000 people crowded in one place, the only face was you I grabbed your hand and we raced out, hardly said a word, I'd only seen you for a minute but I was round in third And we traded on our backgrounds you mentioned I seemed shy Then you laughed and said I'm an uptown uptempo woman, your a downtown downbeat guy!
And the clowns have all gone to bed You can hear happiness staggering on down the street Footprints dressed in red
And the wind whispers Mary
A broom is drearily sweeping Up the broken pieces of yesterday's life Somewhere a queen is weeping Somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind, it cries Mary
The traffic lights they turn a blue tomorrow And shine their emptiness down on my bed The tiny island sags downstream 'Cause the life that they lived is dead
And the wind screams Mary
Will the wind ever remember? The names it has blown in the past And with its crutch, its old age and its wisdom It whispers "no, this will be the last"
Well, how do ya' like my pad?" "Oh, it's great. I mean, I love purple." "I – I bet you're an Aquarius, aren't you?" "No. Actually I'm a Leo." "I knew you were one of those." "You know, Leos are very big on Women's Lib." "I don't, uh, believe in Women's Lib." "Uh, somehow I didn't think you did." "Let me just turn on the hi-fi here." "Oh, that's pretty. Uh, what kind of wine is this?" "Oh, that's uh – that's red wine." "Red! That's my favorite kind." "Are you having a terrific time?" "Oh, yeah. I'm having a very terrific time."
God dammit Amy, we're not kids any more. You can't just keep waltzing out of my life, Leaving clothes on my bedroom floor, Like nothing really matters, like pain doesn't hurt. You should be more to me by now than just heartbreak in a short skirt.
You kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I made when I was a kid, With a disassembled disposable razor I stole from my dad, When I thought that suffering was something profound, That weighed down on wise heads, And not just something to be avoided, Something normal people dread.
God dammit Amy, well of course I've changed. With all the things I've done and the places I've been I'd be a machine if I had stayed the same. But you're still back where we started, you haven't changed at all. You're still trying to live like a kid, like you can always have it all.
You know you kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I hid as best I could, That I covered with ink, but in the right kind of light they still bleed through, Showing that there are some things I just can't change no matter what I do: The tell-tale signs of being used, Of being trapped inside of you.
You're a beautiful butterfly Burned with a branding iron Onto my outsides into my insides As a simple sign: To show off your ownership. Burned into my naked skin, Onto my outsides into my insides.
It's not even love any more, It's just a claim upon my soul. It stains my skin, yeah it's on my breath, And I'm ashamed to get undressed In front of strangers in case they see The tell tale signs that you have left all over me.
You'll always remind me of scars on my arms that I know will never fade. And it's not like it's something I think about each and every day - I just occasionally catch myself scratching them, as if they'd ever go away. But these tell tale signs are here to stay, and in the end you know that's OK. You will always be a part of my patched-up patchwork taped-up tape-deck heart.
Sex jibe husband murders wife Bomb blast victim fights for life Girl Thirteen attacked with knife
Princess Di is wearing a new dress
Jet airliner shot from sky Famine horror, millions die Earthquake terror figures rise
Princes Di is wearing a new dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
In black townships fires blaze Prospects better premier says Within sight are golden days
Princess Di is wearing a New Dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
Sex jibe husband murders wife Bomb blast victim fights for life Girl Thirteen attacked with knife
Princess Di is wearing a new dress
Jet airliner shot from sky Famine horror, millions die Earthquake terror figures rise
Princes Di is wearing a new dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
In black townships fires blaze Prospects better premier says Within sight are golden days
Princess Di is wearing a New Dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
Princess Di is wearing a New Dress
Excellent, what is it ? Sounds like a John Cooper Clarke poem.
Sex jibe husband murders wife Bomb blast victim fights for life Girl Thirteen attacked with knife
Princess Di is wearing a new dress
Jet airliner shot from sky Famine horror, millions die Earthquake terror figures rise
Princes Di is wearing a new dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
In black townships fires blaze Prospects better premier says Within sight are golden days
Princess Di is wearing a New Dress
You can't change the world But you can change the facts And when you change the facts You change points of view If you change points of view You may change a vote And when you change a vote You may change the world
Princess Di is wearing a New Dress
Excellent, what is it ? Sounds like a John Cooper Clarke poem.
Depeche Mode. Speaking of JCC, his Thirty Six Hours is a work of genius:
36 hours in the mystery chair 36 hours in the quizzical glare Of the naked lights and the visible hardware
Another bloke is leaving in a wheelchair No joke, here comes the punchline Lights out... sack time
Steel shoes on the stone cold floor I hear the screws screaming in the corridor The bad news and the slammin' of the door The "what did i do's" and the "what am I here for's" Shades of doubt fall deeper than the slag mine Lights out... sack time
Hard cheese and a chest complaint One man sneezes, another two faint Sufferin' jesus, this ain't my venue The man through the mesh says it's time to crash The creeping flesh of a nervous rash The last man to make a dash Is on the menu
Here's the boss with a mouthful of emeralds A maltese cross and a pocket full of chemicals Jack frost snappin' at the genitals Wash my cosh it's a visit from the general Rule out sub section nine Lights out... sack time
The killer gorilla with the perspex hat Says I say so... and that's that Take out the dog bring back the cat Scrape out the cafeteria rats Stab the rabbit feed the swine lights out... sack time
Time flies ... slides down the wall Part of me dies under my overalls I close my eyes and a woman calls From a nightmare The chronic breath of the dead collides With a rattle of the waste disposal slides No flowers for the man who dies In the bombscare He's in the frigidaire
Freezing in these paper jeans Standing stiff in a dead man's dream Tobacco barons and the closet queen Walk on the walls... wank in the beans Shave... shit... a shower and a shoe shine That's it... sack time Everybody looks like ernest borgnine That's it
36 hours on the battery farm A blindfold and a broken arm I got the cold shoulder sleepin' in the barn Whose barn... what barn... their barn The old soldier and his old-world charm Lift that weight, drag that woodbine Lights out mate sackarooni time Lights out... sack time
In France a skinny man dies from a big disease with a little name By chance his girlfriend came across a needle and soon she did the same Back home there are 17 year old boys and their idea of fun Is being in a gang called the disciples, high on crack, totting a machine gun.
The Jonathan Ross show last night left me thinking.
Quite interesting how lyrics have changed over the years. Back in the 70s Donovan banged on about his unrequited love. No matter how much he wished to take her hand along the sand, as sundown paled the sky or even when rain had hung the leaves with tears, it seems he couldn’t so much as steal a kiss.
Move on to present times and we have a young lady, Megan Thee Stallion who seems to be getting plenty of everything. Bring a bucket and mop for this WAP!
My god I feel old. Not sure it’s my idea of romance. Any chance of going back? It seems I may as well try to Catch The Wind.
HMHB have some great lyrics. Even their track names are clever. I'm sure they could come up with some decent fish puns on the takeover thread.
I think my favourite has to be "Ninety Nine Percent of Gargoyles Look Like Bob Todd", which is a reference that is almost certainly meaningless to anyone under 40, or possibly even 45.
Comments
When you look around the mountains through the mud and rain
You'll see the crosses some that bear no name
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone
The boys beneath them soldier on
They were the D-Day dodgers who'll stay in Italy
The whole song makes me weep every time i hear it!
‘They’re selling postcards of the hanging,
They’re painting the passports brown...’
''Started out in innocence, the way that most things do
A 1,000 people crowded in one place, the only face was you
I grabbed your hand and we raced out, hardly said a word,
I'd only seen you for a minute but I was round in third
And we traded on our backgrounds you mentioned I seemed shy
Then you laughed and said
I'm an uptown uptempo woman, your a downtown downbeat guy!
One for the older CL's!
You can already sense the climate is starting to shift
To these kids you no longer exist
Went from raining cats and dogs in this bitch
To tiny drops, little drips
And by the time your reign (rain) is over, you'll hardly be missed (mist)
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footprints dressed in red
Up the broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
Somewhere a king has no wife
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags downstream
'Cause the life that they lived is dead
The names it has blown in the past
And with its crutch, its old age and its wisdom
It whispers "no, this will be the last"
Well, how do ya' like my pad?"
"Oh, it's great. I mean, I love purple."
"I – I bet you're an Aquarius, aren't you?"
"No. Actually I'm a Leo."
"I knew you were one of those."
"You know, Leos are very big on Women's Lib."
"I don't, uh, believe in Women's Lib."
"Uh, somehow I didn't think you did."
"Let me just turn on the hi-fi here."
"Oh, that's pretty. Uh, what kind of wine is this?"
"Oh, that's uh – that's red wine."
"Red! That's my favorite kind."
"Are you having a terrific time?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm having a very terrific time."
Well I was on a buzz
In the back of the van
With my head in my hands
If only my brother could see me now,
He'd get me out, he'd sort me out alright
I knew I should have stayed at home tonight
Locked in the cell, feeling unwell
I talked to a man
He said it's better to tell
Who sold you the blow?
Well it was no-one I know
If only you'd tell us, we'd let you go
We'll make it up for you my son
So tell us what you know
We'll make you wish you'd stayed at home tonight
Here comes my Mum
Well she knows what I've done
Just tell them the truth
You know where he's from
You've blackened our name, you should be ashamed
If only your father could see you know
He'd breakdown and he's throw you out for sure
I never should have let you out tonight.
Supergrass' Caught by the Fuzz - top tune too.
but all I want to do girl, is lower your resistance.
ABC - Date Stamp.
You can't just keep waltzing out of my life,
Leaving clothes on my bedroom floor,
Like nothing really matters, like pain doesn't hurt.
You should be more to me by now than just heartbreak in a short skirt.
With a disassembled disposable razor I stole from my dad,
When I thought that suffering was something profound,
That weighed down on wise heads,
And not just something to be avoided,
Something normal people dread.
With all the things I've done and the places I've been
I'd be a machine if I had stayed the same.
But you're still back where we started, you haven't changed at all.
You're still trying to live like a kid, like you can always have it all.
That I covered with ink, but in the right kind of light they still bleed through,
Showing that there are some things I just can't change no matter what I do:
The tell-tale signs of being used,
Of being trapped inside of you.
Burned with a branding iron
Onto my outsides into my insides
As a simple sign:
To show off your ownership.
Burned into my naked skin,
Onto my outsides into my insides.
It's just a claim upon my soul.
It stains my skin, yeah it's on my breath,
And I'm ashamed to get undressed
In front of strangers in case they see
The tell tale signs that you have left all over me.
You'll always remind me of scars on my arms that I know will never fade.
And it's not like it's something I think about each and every day -
I just occasionally catch myself scratching them, as if they'd ever go away.
But these tell tale signs are here to stay, and in the end you know that's OK.
You will always be a part of my patched-up patchwork taped-up tape-deck heart.
Frank Turner, Tell-tale Signs
Bomb blast victim fights for life
Girl Thirteen attacked with knife
Famine horror, millions die
Earthquake terror figures rise
But you can change the facts
And when you change the facts
You change points of view
If you change points of view
You may change a vote
And when you change a vote
You may change the world
Prospects better premier says
Within sight are golden days
But you can change the facts
And when you change the facts
You change points of view
If you change points of view
You may change a vote
And when you change a vote
You may change the world
Sounds like a John Cooper Clarke poem.
36 hours in the mystery chair
36 hours in the quizzical glare
Of the naked lights and the visible hardware
Another bloke is leaving in a wheelchair
No joke, here comes the punchline
Lights out... sack time
Steel shoes on the stone cold floor
I hear the screws screaming in the corridor
The bad news and the slammin' of the door
The "what did i do's" and the "what am I here for's"
Shades of doubt fall deeper than the slag mine
Lights out... sack time
Hard cheese and a chest complaint
One man sneezes, another two faint
Sufferin' jesus, this ain't my venue
The man through the mesh says it's time to crash
The creeping flesh of a nervous rash
The last man to make a dash
Is on the menu
Here's the boss with a mouthful of emeralds
A maltese cross and a pocket full of chemicals
Jack frost snappin' at the genitals
Wash my cosh it's a visit from the general
Rule out sub section nine
Lights out... sack time
The killer gorilla with the perspex hat
Says I say so... and that's that
Take out the dog bring back the cat
Scrape out the cafeteria rats
Stab the rabbit feed the swine lights out... sack time
Time flies ... slides down the wall
Part of me dies under my overalls
I close my eyes and a woman calls
From a nightmare
The chronic breath of the dead collides
With a rattle of the waste disposal slides
No flowers for the man who dies
In the bombscare
He's in the frigidaire
Freezing in these paper jeans
Standing stiff in a dead man's dream
Tobacco barons and the closet queen
Walk on the walls... wank in the beans
Shave... shit... a shower and a shoe shine
That's it... sack time
Everybody looks like ernest borgnine
That's it
36 hours on the battery farm
A blindfold and a broken arm
I got the cold shoulder sleepin' in the barn
Whose barn... what barn... their barn
The old soldier and his old-world charm
Lift that weight, drag that woodbine
Lights out mate sackarooni time
Lights out... sack time
By chance his girlfriend came across a needle and soon she did the same
Back home there are 17 year old boys and their idea of fun
Is being in a gang called the disciples, high on crack, totting a machine gun.
I love to sink her with my pink torpedo
Big Bottom - Spinal Tap
Dont drink and driiive,
Dont drink and drive.. dont drink and drive,
Dont drink and driiive
*and repeat
No drinking and driving
Not even beer?
Not even water
The Jonathan Ross show last night left me thinking.
Quite interesting how lyrics have changed over the years. Back in the 70s Donovan banged on about his unrequited love. No matter how much he wished to take her hand along the sand, as sundown paled the sky or even when rain had hung the leaves with tears, it seems he couldn’t so much as steal a kiss.
Move on to present times and we have a young lady, Megan Thee Stallion who seems to be getting plenty of everything. Bring a bucket and mop for this WAP!
My god I feel old. Not sure it’s my idea of romance. Any chance of going back? It seems I may as well try to Catch The Wind.
CATCH THE WIND - DONOVAN
In the chilly hours and minutes
Of uncertainty, I want to be
In the warm hold of your loving mind
To feel you all around me
And to take your hand, along the sand
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind
When sundown pales the sky
I want to hide a while, behind your smile
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find
For me to love you now
Would be the sweetest thing
That would make me sing
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind
When rain has hung the leaves with tears
I want you near, to kill my fears
To help me to leave all my blues behind
For standin' in your heart
Is where I want to be, and I long to be
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind
.
.
.
.
WAP - MEGAN THEE STALLION
I said, certified freak
Seven days a week
Wet-ass pussy
Make that pull-out game weak, woo
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, you f!!!!!!!g with some wet-ass pussy
Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy
Give me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy
Beat it up, !!!!!, catch a charge
Extra large and extra hard
Put this pussy right in your face
Swipe your nose like a credit card
Hop on top, I wanna ride
I do a kegel while it's inside
Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes
This pussy is wet, come take a dive
Tie me up like I'm surprised
Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise
I want you to park that big Mack truck
Right in this little garage
Make it cream, make me scream
Out in public, make a scene
I don't cook, I don't clean
But let me tell you how I got this ring…
Unless my hearing is going, the very first line seems to mention our own Carl Leaburn.
Russian Roulette - YouTube