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| Mother Primeval |  | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner | | | Inspired by several years of busking, this one. Unless you happen to have had the misfortune of having to stand and play guitar (washboard, tea-chest, drums, whatever) in Dam Square for long enough to make the cash to pay for your dinner and your hotel room when it's two degrees below freezing, you won't realise quite how heartfelt this is… | | Put on your top coat and put on your hat
Stick on some good shoes to keep out the wet
It’s raining just like they said it would
Can’t trust the weather in this neighbourhood | | I guess you could say that we’re outdoor people
Just trying to grow up before we get old
Standing out here in the mother primeval
In the heat and the wind and the rain and the snow
Standing out here in this old stone cathedral
Been out too long and we want to come in from the cold. | | Break out that good juice and let’s take a shot
It’s not for misuse it’s just to warm us up
It keeps that red stuff flowing through our veins
We’ll catch our death of cold for all our pains. | | I guess you could say that we’re outdoor people
Just trying to grow up before we get old
Standing out here in the mother primeval
In the heat and the wind and the rain and the snow
Standing out here in this old stone cathedral
Been out too long and we want to come in from the cold. | | Head peeking through the doorway
He’s looking over his shoulder
Temperature’s falling, it’s ten degrees colder. |
| Tongue Tied and Terrified | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner | | Some things are just wonderful, the way that some things are
Women can be wonderful when you love them from afar
Some things are unexplainable, and sometimes have you found
You always seem to love the one who doesn’t know that you’re around | | Tongue-tied and terrified, my big mouth trips me up
Stuttering and stammering so bad I just can’t stop
Tongue-tied and terrified, got my vowels mixed with my verbs
Getting close to panic, I’m almost lost for words. | | I’d really like to talk to her, to find out who she is
To find out where she’s coming from and who she’s going with
But the closer that I get to her, the more nervous I become
And when she turns to look at me, the good lord strikes me dumb | | Tongue-tied and terrified, my big mouth trips me up
Stuttering and stammering so bad I just can’t stop
Tongue-tied and terrified, got my vowels mixed with my verbs
Getting close to panic, I’m almost lost for words. | | Tongue-tied and terrified, I just can’t keep this up
Stuttering and stammering so bad I just can’t stop
Tongue-tied and terrified, swallow hard and here I go
Coughed out the question, but she don’t want to know
She told me where to go. |
| Murder | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner | | It’s murder to be lonely, it’s murder to be poor
It’s murder to be wealthy and always crave for more
It’s not the money that you have, but what you spend it on
‘Cos wastefulness is murder in the eyes of everyone | | It’s murder for the good guys, it’s murder for the bad
It’s murder to be happy when the whole world looks so sad
But sometimes you have to learn to take the rough end with the smooth
It’s murder when you try to run and your feet don’t want to move | | It’s murder to be handsome, with those glossy film star looks
Always looking at yourself in those glossy pin-up books
To trade in your obscurity for fame and world renown
It’s murder when they turn on you, and they tear their idol down | | Murder is a mortal sin, like greed and suicide
It’s hard to see the benefits when you’re on the other side
Murder’s a final thing and I guess it’s just as well
Heaven may be out of vogue, but it’s murder down in hell |
| Queenie, the Queen of Cardboard City | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Chris Cawte | | | Written about (and for, in a way) Queenie, who was a homeless and very eccentric old lady who used to join Tony for the Tango section when we were busking. You just never know what stories lie behind some of those folks… | | Queenie says she’s royalty, and no-one here can blame her
Everything she owns is hanging on her back
Queenie’s living on the streets, she says her line disowned her
But she wears her tin tiara like a princess, that’s a fact
Queenie lives in poverty beneath the railway arches
She’s a social outcast in her stately shanty home
Queenie’s holding court today, they all pay homage to her
They all try to amuse her as she sits upon her throne | | Queenie, the queen of card board city
We’ve turned the lights on for you, and your audience awaits
Queenie, the queen of cardboard city
We’re rolling out the carpet as your regalness dictates. | | Queenie speaks to everyone, she spills her pearls of wisdom
To anyone who’ll listen, with a little time to spare
Queenie says her time has come, her chance for recognition
But the queen of cardboard city isn’t going anywhere | | Queenie, the queen of cardboard city
We’ve turned the lights on for you, and your audience awaits
Queenie, the queen of cardboard city
We’re rolling out the carpet as your regalness dictates. |
| Girl For Granted | | | Words: Tony Green, Music: Jeff Walker | | | One of very few lyrics Tony wrote for the GBs, and a fine bit of work it is too. This was originally a Frank song which we boogified for the street and the Tea Chest. It was also recorded for the 'Lost' Album with Jon Cleary adding some fabulous piano, and once again for the Gone to the Dogs album. Great tune from Jeff too - they should've written together more often! | | I once had a woman, she treated me too kind
I took her for granted, I thought that she’d always be mine
But now I’m a loner, I don’t like being by myself
The kind of love I’m looking for I can’t find with nobody else
Boy don’t take your girl for granted
Boy why don’t you listen to me
Boy don’t take your girl for granted
‘Cos you don’t know a good thing till it’s gone | | She won’t come running and begging for your time
But soon she’ll be leaving, leaving your hard head behind
And then you’ll be crying, but your tears will all be in vain
‘Cos once she walks out that door she ain’t coming back again
Boy don’t take your girl for granted
Boy why don’t you listen to me
Boy don’t take your girl for granted
‘Cos you don’t know a good thing till it’s gone |
| Conventional Arms | | | Words and Music: Chris Cawte | | Love is a war zone I know that it's true
But I'd cross any minefield to be there with you
You hold the high ground and I hold the low
It's a stalemate with nowhere to go
Your terms of surrender are callous and cruel
You're using your love as a heartbreaking tool
Love has no meaning when gained by these means
Cos winning's not all that it seems | | The only weapon I have is the love in my heart
No fission or fusion can tear it apart
I'll use all my force but I'll do you no harm
With this pair of conventional arms | | Oppression can't win you the spoils of this war
No consultation with military law
Can undo the damage you do to your cause
By breaking this truce that you've called | | The only weapon I have is the love in my heart
No fission or fusion can tear it apart
I'll use all my force but I'll do you no harm
With this pair of conventional arms |
| The Spoiler | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner and Chris Cawte | | I’m going to spoil your day, I’m going to spoil your night
And the way you feel when you feel alright
Spoil your wedding and your honeymoon too
Spoil everything that you ever do
I’m the spoiler baby, and I’m spoiling for something to do. | | I’m going to spoil you wicked, spoil you bad
Spoil you with things that you never had
Spoil you with love and make you blush
Spoil you rotten then get caught in the rush
I’m the spoiler baby, and I’m spoiling for trouble with you. | | Well I spoiled everything that I ever touched
‘Cos it all fell apart in my hand
I’m the spoiler who once turned gold into rust
Like a mountain turns into sand | | Spoil your coffee, spoil your tea
And all the programs on your colour TV
Spoil the plans that you made in advance
Spoil your chances with the wild romance
I’m the spoiler baby, and I’m spoiling to spoil things for you. | | | I’m the spoiler baby, spoiling for trouble with you. |
| The Ferris Wheel | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Chris Cawte | | | A song about the fair, and maybe a bit more. Chris wrote a lovely tune around this but it was rarely performed live as it worked best with a single acoustic guitar. Bit of a gem, I reckon… | | I’ve seen daredevil riders ride the wall of death
Seen fire-eaters left gasping for breath
I’ve seen a man and his children at the coconut shy
Trying to win the respect that his money can’t buy
And it all comes down to a night at the fair
With the stars in your eyes and the wind in your hair
Wouldn’t you like to know how it makes me feel?
At the top of the Ferris wheel. | | I’ve seen bimbos and bozos ride the tunnel of love
I’ve seen lovers get ugly when push comes to shove
I’ve seen big-shots take pot shots at anything that moves
But with a winner every time tell me how can he lose
And it all comes down to a night at the fair
With the smell of hot-dogs filling the air
And if you like the danger then you’ll love the thrill
At the top of the Ferris wheel. | | Going up and down and round and round
We’ll kiss the stars and touch the ground
One more time, one more go
Just let this big wheel roll
Going round and round and up and down
We’ll touch the stars and kiss the ground
We’ll wave goodbye from way up high
Just let this mother fly. | | I’ve seen leather jacket bikers barely out of their teens
With somebody’s blood splattered over their jeans
Just watching all the swivel and the shake of the hips
From the ponytail girl with the candy-floss lips
And it all comes down to a night at the fair
With the stars in your eyes and the wind in your hair
Wouldn’t you like to know how it makes you feel?
At the top of the Ferris wheel
At the top of the Ferris whee |
| Happy For You | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner | | When you leave you will leave behind such a big hole in my life
When you leave you will leave so many unturned stones behind
When you leave you will leave behind something of yourself
When you leave you will leave so many stories I can tell | | Happy for you baby, happy for you
I hope you get what you deserve
Happy for you baby, happy for you
You gave your time to me, hope you kept some in reserve | | When you leave you will leave in tears, no time to dry your eyes
When you leave after all these years, no time for long goodbyes
When you leave you will leave unsung, turn your picture to the wall
When you leave and when you're gone you won't exist at all | | Happy for you baby, happy for you
There is so much you must learn
Happy for you baby, happy for you
You gave your love to me, hope you find love in return | | When you leave you will leave this place in the mess you always do
When you leave you will leave no trace, no trace at all of you
When you go you will go too far, too far to come back home
When you go leave by the door cos the window will be closed!
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| Stand Up, Little Jesus | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Steve Turner | | | Den was not a religious man in any sense of the word - this was his fairly irreverent take on 'what if he did exist - he must've been a snotty little kid just like everyone else'. It was one of the transitional songs between twee skiffle and the bludgeon era, always a real stomper live and probably one of the reasons we kept getting asked back to play the bike festivals | | Jesus stayed in this room, and he slept upon this bed
He ate his food from that stone plate, and he said the things he said
Jesus lived in my hometown, and they said he was divine
But Jesus scorned that kind of stuff, it was the last thing on his mind.
Stand up little Jesus, stand up little Jesus
Stand up little Jesus and take a bow. | | Jesus went to my school, and he sat right next to me
I guess Jesus learned a lot about wood and carpentry
Jesus played in our back streets, he was the leader of our gang
Then one day Jesus moved away to new Jerusalem.
Stand up little Jesus, stand up little Jesus
Stand up little Jesus and take a bow
Stand up little Jesus, stand up little Jesus
Stand up little Jesus and come one down
I’ll trade my pirate’s hat for your stained and thorny crown. | | Jesus was a friend of mine, he read my comic books
Jesus was a Batman freak, he just liked the way he looked
Jesus used to live around here, down by the Neon Park
Now my best friend is my saviour.
Stand up little Jesus and take a bow
Stand up little Jesus and take a bow
Stand up little Jesus, stand up little Jesus
Stand up little Jesus and take a bow. | | Stand up little Jesus, stand up and take a bow
Your place is in the hall of fame, beside the holy cow
Stand up little Jesus, stand up and come on down
I’ll trade my paper pirate’s hat for your stained and thorny crown
Stand up little Jesus stand up and say goodbye
You’re your father’s favourite, the apple of his eye. |
| I Ain't Afraid | | | Words and Music: Chris Cawte | | | Another fine piece of work by Chris - this really marked the end of the cute little busking band and the beginning of something much beefier. Traditionally our set closer | | I ain’t afraid of being poor
If it comes to it I can sit on the floor
If you want to use a chair you can go next door
I ain’t afraid of being poor | | I ain’t afraid to turn out the light
I’ll lie on my back and use my second sight
Even the blind can see wrong from right
I ain’t afraid to turn out the light | | I ain’t afraid of being alone
I’ll be just fine after you are gone
Don’t need no television or no telephone
I ain’t afraid of being alone | | I’m afraid to close my eyes
Don’t know what’s waiting on the other side
Maybe a million politicians trying to tell me their lies
I’m afraid to close my eyes | | I’m frightened of you if you feel no pain
With your heart tied around a ball and chain
While the victims of oppression are dying in vain
I’m afraid if you feel no pain | | I’m getting scared to go outside
The air out there is like cyanide
Keep me conditioned give me some place to hide
‘Cos I’m scared to go outside |
| Lyin’ About The Blues | | | Words: Dennis Johnson, Music: Jeff Walker, Steve Turner and Chris Cawte | | | This song was never recorded by us, but ended up being covered by Dr Feelgood on their 1993 album The Feelgood Factor, the last they did with with Lee Brilleaux. They became good friends of ours, and Lee is sadly missed. About the only song we ever wrote in 3/4, or 'in triangles' as Den liked to think of it :) It's been included with this collection only because it was never put out by us either! | | I got a Robert Johnson photograph
That you didn’t know exists
I even got his autograph
Let ya have them for a kiss | | Well, I’m a liar baby
But ya know I only lie for you
There ain’t nothin’ in this world
I wouldn’t do for you | | Well, I met Memphis Minnie Lawler
And she taught me all I know
She taught me how to sing the blues
When that lonesome whistle blows | | Guess I’m a liar baby
But ya know its just for fun
I don’t love Miss Minnie Lawler
So put away your gatlin gun | | Well, I’ve lied about my age
And I’ve lied about my name
Girl I’ve told so many goddamn lies
And I know I’ll lie again
I’ve lied about just everything
I’ve even lied about the news
But I know that you’ll believe me
When I lie about the blues | | Well, me and John Lee Hooker
Sang a Muddy Waters song
Working on a chain gang, babe
Beneath the Alabama sun | | Yes, I’m a liar baby
That’s all I ever seem to do
Tell me myself that it’s the truth
And then I tell a lie to you |
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