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Lyrics 4:
Complete lyrics to most often requested songs.
All lyrics © Wyson Lane Music.
WARNING:
SOME OF THE TOPICS ADDRESSED & THE ASSOCIATED LYRICS MAY CAUSE OFFENCE TO THOSE OF A SENSITIVE DISPOSITION.
Further lyrics listed in alphabetical order can be found on Lyrics P1, 2 & 3. Follow link back to P1.
SONGS:
The Brachiation Swing
The Gift
The Good Old Days
The Ledger
The Very First Time
The Voice On The Airwaves
Trading Places
Trawlers
Two Lives
Until The Break Of Day
Will Your Boots Be On Or Off?
THE BRACHIATION SWING
Another song by our friend and collaborator, Cornelius Bumble-Pratt.
[A plea for the environment - we must act before it's too late. A play on words but it's no joke]
A million years ago we were swinging to and fro, we would brachiate
Without a care in our head apart from how to get fed and to procreate
Then we all climbed down and stood on the ground just to contemplate
Were we better off down below or up aloft, should we relocate?
But we knew our place in the human race, quite a smart primate
So we moved downstairs and walked around in pairs just to demonstrate
The sheer delight of standing upright to perambulate
Then travelled far and wide across the countryside to proliferate
CH:
Pulsate, gyrate, rotate and fornicate – we’re just doing our thing
Copulate, gestate, mutate and populate to the brachiation swing
We covered the earth taking everything of worth just to dominate
Took the fish from the sea and cut down every tree, left the rest to stagnate
Sucked the life from the land, turned it into sand, to contaminate
And when nothing remained that wasn’t useless or maimed we could emigrate
Do we stay down here, live with famine and fear and procrastinate
And all get depressed and become so stressed we can’t communicate
Should we take pretty pills for all our little ills, help us to concentrate
Or climb into the trees with the birds and the bees to deliberate?
CH:
But where are the trees, the birds and the bees, did they all migrate?
The flowers and weeds and all the tiny seeds, they won’t germinate
The creatures great and small, have we killed them all, did we exterminate?
Where have they gone, what have we done, is it all too late?
Without a care in our head apart from how to get fed and to procreate
We take pretty pills for all our little ills and still procrastinate
Now nothing remains that isn’t useless or maimed so we’ll emigrate
Because we know our place in the human race, we’re a smart primate
CH:
THE GIFT
[A musical dream]
Closing my eyes in quiet contemplation I laid my head down at the end of the day
And heard the sweet sound of such beautiful music, I was caught in its spell and carried away
The tune it arose and flowed through the valleys weaving its magic on sonorous strings
It danced on the wind as high as the heavens and lifted my spirits on whispering wings
CH:
Over the mountains and crystal clear fountains music enchanting was filling the air
Bowing so neatly and playing so sweetly music completely, none can compare
It told of the powers of the trees and the flowers, moorland and meadow, earth and sky
Sun and soft rain sowing nature’s rich bounty, a season for living and a time to die
But as I awoke the player he departed leaving a gift so precious and rare
Magical music still playing so gently, beautiful bowing still filling the air
CH:
THE GOOD OLD DAYS
Another song by our friend and collaborator, Cornelius Bumble-Pratt.
[Old age - loneliness. Sometimes ending it all is the right answer]
Up at seven thirty, away by eight, breakfast on the table, never late
Office by nine, always on time, those were the good old days
Home by six thirty, a kiss for me, a pair of old slippers and a cup of tea
Dinner on my plate, never late, those were the good old days
CH:
Ah, you brightened up my day when the skies were grey
Put a smile on my face, made the world a happy place
It’s was always going to be just you and me - eternally
Garden at the weekend, clean the car, hardly ever use it, we don’t go far
Church on Sunday, not much fun day, those were the good old days
Holiday in August, a B & B, two weeks in Blackpool by the sea
Hand in hand along the sand, those were the good old days
CH:
But now you’ve gone to visit the great unknown I can’t face the future all alone
With just a treasury of memories of you and the good old days
Kids don’t call to see me, friends all gone, can’t see the sense in carrying on
I’m getting in the way, see you later today, I’ll say goodbye to the bad old days
Then you’ll brighten up my day when the skies are grey
Put a smile on my face, make our world a happy place
It will always be just you and me - heavenly
I'm sitting in the graveyard by your tombstone, I've booked my passage to the great unknown
So I'm calling to say I'll see you later today, it's time to leave, I'm on my way
THE LEDGER
[A comment on a not so imaginary potential situation in the pandemic]
The politician, on commission, trades his services
For platitudes and empty promises
He sells his soul for a crock of gold and outsourced PPE
No questions asked, no written guarantee
No track and trace, no tests in place for the sick or elderly
He sent them home and set that virus free
The state controlled the frail, the old, the husbands and their wives
Just numbers on his ledger – surplus lives
CH:
He compromised the truth with lies and helped that virus spread
Don’t know who he was trying to fool, the living or the dead
Exploitation, obfuscation, shady backstreet deals
Ignoring all our questions and appeals
All alone in an old folks home there’s another needless death
She wastes away and draws her final breath
He takes no blame when he snuffs the flame that once burned there so bright
She’s just a number on his ledger - out of sight
The bed is bare but I see you there lying next to me
Lost in sleep and dreaming peacefully
But you drift away with the light of day as night draws to a close
And sadness, like a silent cancer, grows
CH:
Thousands died but still he lied, breaking all the rules
Weaving spin and treating us like fools
Racketeering, profiteering, fingers in the till
He took the cash but paid the final bill
All alone in a stately home there’s another needless death
The politician draws his final breath
And counts the cost of a life now lost, a victim of his greed
He’s a number on the ledger – guaranteed
CH:
THE VERY FIRST TIME
[It's just as good now as it was that very first time]
Waiting, wanting, watching and wondering the very first time
Sensing, seeing, smiling and speaking the very first time
Talking, touching, trusting and treasuring the very first time
Laughing, learning, loving, then leaving, the very first time
Now we’re waiting and we’re wanting, watching and wondering about the next time
We’re sensing and we’re seeing, we’re smiling and speaking about the next time
Now we’re talking, we’re talking and touching, we’re trusting and treasuring the very next time
We’re laughing, we’re laughing and learning, we’re loving, then we’re leaving, until the next time
No more wondering, we’re just wanting, we’re waiting and watching the passage of time
No more speaking, we’re just smiling, then we’re sensing, seeing and believing this is our time
No more talking, we’re just touching, we’re trusting and treasuring a precious moment in time
No more laughing, we’re just learning to make love together for the very first time
We’re still talking, we’re still touching, we’re still trusting and treasuring precious moments in time
We’re still laughing, we’re still learning, still making love like it was that very first time
We still make love like it was that very first time
We still make love like it is the very first time
THE VOICE ON THE AIRWAVES
[Songs we hear by chance on the radio evoke strong memories]
Sounds of our childhood, buses and trains, house in the village, countryside lanes
Busy school playgrounds lost in the haze of endless cold winters and hot summer days
Sounds of our daydreams, those feelings of bliss, stirring of passion, first tentative kiss
Keepsakes and promises and times that we lied, broken affairs and the rivers, rivers we cried
CH:
He’s playing our memories, unwinding our years, bringing back feelings of good times and tears
Farewell to the present, replay and old track, the voice on the airwaves is calling
The voice on the airwaves is calling, calling us back, calling us back
Sounds of the sixties, Beatles and Stones, Clapton and Hendrix and Dylanesque clones
Where are the heroes that showed us the light? Heard for three minutes then lost in the night
Sounds of our protests for justice and peace, struggle for freedom, for fighting to cease
Marching the streets to show our support, why did it end, did it all count, count for nought?
CH:
Sounds of our settling for middle class life, 2.4 children, car and a wife
Mortgage, insurance, pension, then grave, told we are free and yet sold for a slave
We sit back and listen to the sounds of our years, think of the past and we hold back the tears
Borne of frustration for wasting our time caught in the rat race of rhythm, rhythm and rhyme
He’s playing our memories, unwinding our years bringing back feelings of good times and tears
Farewell to the present, replay and old track, the voice on the airwaves is calling
He’s playing our memories, unwinding our years bringing back feelings of good times and tears
Farewell to the present, replay and old track, the voice on the airwaves is calling
The voice on the airwaves is calling, Calling us back, calling us back, he’s calling us back
TRADING PLACES
[From a newspaper article about child abuse and rent boys]
Danielle is working on the street to earn enough so he can eat and feed his brother Josephine
Eddie is trawling the same beat knowing the time is right to meet the perfect partner for his dream
They find each other by the neon light, head down the alley out of sight
He’s making money from the city night - Danielle is crying, his brother is dying tonight
Danielle is feeling so depraved from fifteen minutes doing trade down on his knees for Josephine
Eddie was laughing with each thrust, Danielle was retching with disgust and once again he feels unclean
But Jo’ is dying so he does his best, too young for welfare, failed the test
No help from hand-outs and they’re dispossessed - Danielle is crying, his brother is dying tonight
CH:
Close your eyes and I’ll take you there, Piccadilly or Leicester Square down London Town
You’ve got to care when you know what’s there when you see what’s going on everywhere
Down London Town, down London Town
Danielle is thinking of the way their childhood trust was once betrayed, how it became too much to bear
The Joe and Dan of yesterday then traded places to replay their father’s filial love affair
Now Joe is dying and he’s all alone, no place to rest, no going home
Just fifteen years and his life has flown so Dan stops crying, his brother is dying tonight
CH:
Dan says we’re dealing from a pack of lies – no time for tears he wipes his eyes
With our excuses and our alibis – we should be crying, our children are dying tonight
We should be crying, our children are dying tonight, our children are dying tonight
TRAWLERS
[Inspired by a painting of trawlers rotting in an old dock]
Lash the trawl, belay the hawser, make secure the forward hatch
Plough the fields of herring, prepare to stow the catch
Take the helm and hold her steady, turn her head into the waves
Set a course to clear the lighthouse or we’re bound for watery graves
Can you hear the plaintiff piping of the mainstays in the gale?
Face the angry raging fury of the wind upon the sail?
Feel the groaning of the crossbeams tortured by the roll?
We’re moving walls of water and we’re headed for the silver shoal
CH:
Do you see the boats lying idle their trawling days done?
They’re a still and stark reminder of the old ways now gone
A way of life for many but a living for so few
Riches for the master and a pittance, just a pittance, for the crew
Can you feel your frozen fingers as you haul upon the chains?
Does your blood run white as pack ice or turn leaden in your veins?
Do your legs stand strong as timbers as you face the arctic roar?
Or your heart beat ever faster as you sail away from the shore?
Do you count the hours ‘til sunrise with no shelter from the night?
Are the stars your only shipmates, constant friends and guiding light?
Do you drift in restless slumber seeking sanctuary in sleep?
Dredging dreams of far off fortunes from the darkness of the deep?
TWO LIVES
[Written for my brother's wedding in Canada]
Two lives, one path, four simple words, a cause to celebrate
An invitation to attend, a time, a place, a date
The miracle of love, they say, is when you pass it on and then
If you give it freely it’s never gone
Today is such a special day, the start of something new
Another page turned in the book and one more chapter through
A public affirmation of your promises and vows
A statement of all that love endows
CH:
Two lives, one path, walking hand in hand
Two lives, one life, living in different lands
Two lives, one way, the strength to see you through
Two lives, one love, for ever true
Together, now for evermore, your journey’s just begun
No simple route down easy street the road you choose to run
But if you have to part again I hope it's not for long and then
I pray you find some comfort in this song
Today is such a special day, the start of something new
Another page turned in the book and one more chapter through
The miracle of love, they say, is when you pass it on
And if you give it freely it’s never gone
UNTIL THE BREAK OF DAY
[It's all in the title - a simple love song]
Caught in the half light, shadows in the moonlight
Two lives together, now and for ever
Thoughts are turning, the flame starts burning with love
As we're tempted by nearness and lost in this madness called love
Run to me my love, don’t delay
And lie with me until the break of day
Lost in our daydreams, playing with moonbeams
Entwined together, now and for ever
Desire is growing, it's overflowing with love
Releasing emotion, confirming devotion in love
Run to me my love, don’t delay
And lie with me until the break of day
CH:
Hold me close and we can fly away
We'll leave our cares behind in yesterday
Run to me my love, don’t delay
And lie with me until the break of day
Share our tomorrows, the pleasures and sorrows
Two hearts together, now and for ever
The closeness we’re sharing, the longing and caring for love
As we're tempted by nearness and lost in this madness called love
Run to me my love, don’t delay
And lie with me until the break of day
WILL YOUR BOOTS BE ON OR OFF?
[The legendary story of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday]
Tombstone 1881, law is hostage to the outlaws’ gun The Cochise County Cowboys run the town
Curly Bill killed Marshall White, took him out in a pistol fight, The Vigilantes come to cut them down
The Earp boys and Doc Holliday faced the gang, didn’t back away from a gunfight at the OK Corral
30 seconds and 30 rounds, three men dead on the killing ground, a legend born on the blood-stained chaparral
CH:
When you see the famous coat with the bullet holes will you run and try to save your mortal souls
When you hear the rasp and the rattle of a TB cough will you die today, will your boots be on or off?
Frank McLaury’s lying dead, his brother Tom is full of lead and Billy Clanton, he’s been blown away
His brother Ike, Wes Fuller too, Billy Claiborne all withdrew, ran for the hills to fight another day
Morgan took a shot or two and brother Virgil’s crippled too but Doc and Wyatt Earp are standing tall
His famous coat is full of holes, legend says it saved their souls, it’s not their time to die or take a fall
CH:
Then in March of ‘82, Morgan’s killed by the Cowboy crew and ambush Doc and Earp at the railroad side
Wyatt gets his shot in first, a Cochise Cowboy bites the dust, Clanton flees but this time Stilwell dies
The Vigilantes then pursue Florentino “Indian Charlie” Cruz, before he dies he talks and starts to sing
“It was Ringo, Clanton and Curly Bill sent Morgan Earp to old Boot Hill” so they shoot Curly Bill in Iron Springs
CH:
The Vendetta Ride hunts down the gang, sixteen shot or left to hang but Ike and Johnny Ringo get away
Two months later Johnny’s dead, in Turkey Creek, shot through the head, a single slug from Doc Holliday.
Doc deserted “Big Nose” Kate and five years later met his fate, TB brings his story to a close
Wyatt lived for eighty years with no regret, no guilty tears, his final words: …..”Suppose, suppose?”……
CH:
Will you die today, will your boots be on or off? Will you die today, will your boots be on or off?
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