| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 5:04 | 
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Happy, and I'm smiling, walk a mile to drink your water.
You know I'd love to love you, and above you there's no other We'll go walking out while others shout of war's disaster. Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. Once I'd used to join in every boy and girl was my friend. Now there's revolution but they don't know what they're fighting. Let us close our eyes. Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in, we'll keep living in the past. Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. Oh, no, no, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. |
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| 2. |
| 6:06 |
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When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool. So I left there in the morning With their God tucked underneath my arm Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules And I asked this God a question And by way of firm reply He said, “I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays” So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares) Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers I don't believe you You had the whole damn thing all wrong He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school And have all the bishops harmonize these lines How do you dare tell me that I'm my Father's son? When that was just an accident of birth I'd rather look around me, compose a better song 'Cos that's the honest measure of my worth In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me As you lick the boots of death born out of fear When I was young and they packed me off to school And taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool I left there in the morning With their God under my arm Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school Have all the bishops harmonize these lines When I was young and they packed me off to school And they taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares) Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school And have all the bishops harmonize these lines I don't believe you You had the whole damn thing all wrong He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays |
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| 3. |
| 4:32 |
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I'll take you down to that bright city mile,
There to powder your sweet face and paint on a smile That will show all of the pleasures and none of the pain When you join my explosion and play with my games WarChild dance the days, and dance the nights away. No unconditional surrender: no armistice day Each night I'll die in my contentment and lie by your grave While you bring me water and I give you wine Let me dance in your tea-cup and you shall swim in mine. WarChild dance the days, and dance the nights away. Open your windows and I'll walk through your doors. Let me live in your country - let me sleep by your shores WarChild dance the days, and the nights away |
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| 4. |
| 4:13 |
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Dharma, seek and you will find
Truth within your mind, Dharma. Dharma, each to his own we say, Together we'll end astray, Dharma. Truth is like freedom, it doesn't fool me. Be true to yourself, never think that you're free. Dharma will come eventually. |
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| 5. |
| 3:24 |
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I'll make love to you in all good places -
Under black mountains, in open spaces. By deep brown rivers that slither darkly, Through far marches where the blue hare races. Come with me to the Winged Isle - Northern father's western child. Where the dance of ages is playing still Through far marches of acres wild. I'll make love to you in narrow side streets, With shuttered windows, and crumbling chimneys. Come with me to the weary town - Discos silent under tiles That slide from roof-tops, scatter softly On concrete marches of acres wild. By red bricks pointed with cement fingers Flaking damply from sagging shoulders. Come with me to the Winged Isle - Northern father's western child. Where the dance of ages is playing still Through far marches of acres wild |
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| 6. |
| 10:02 |
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I think she was a middle-distance runner...
(the translation wasn't clear). Could be a budding stately hero. International competition in a year. She was a good enough reason for a party... (well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile) while she ran a perfect circle. And she wore a perfect smile in Budapest... hot night in Budapest. We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium... dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear. She was helping out at the back-stage... stopping hearts and chilling beer. Yes, and her legs went on for ever. Like staring up at infinity through a wisp of cotton panty along a skin of satin sea. Hot night in Budapest. You could cut the heat, peel it back with the wrong side of a knife. Feel it blowing from the sidefills. Feel like you were playing for your life (if not the money). Hot night in Budapest. She bent down to fill the ice box and stuffed some more warm white wine in like some weird unearthly vision wearing only T-shirt, pants and skin. You know, it rippled, just a hint of muscle. But the boys and me were heading west so we left her to the late crew and a hot night in Budapest. It was a hot night in Budapest. She didn't speak much English language... (she didn't speak much anyway). She wouldn't make love, but she could make good sandwich and she poured sweet wine before we played. Hey, Budapest, cha, cha, cha. Let's watch her now. I thought I saw her at the late night restaurant. She would have sent blue shivers down the wall. But she didn't grace our table. In fact, she wasn't there at all. Yes, and her legs went on forever. Like staring up at infinity. Her heart was spinning to the west-lands and she didn't care to be that night in Budapest. Hot night in Budapest. |
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| 7. |
| 3:33 |
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I'll buy you six bay mares to put in your stable,
Six golden apples bought with my pay, I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune, But I must be gone by the seventh day, So come on, I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play, Get ready for the whistler, I whistle along on the seventh day, Whistle along on the seventh day. All kinds of sadness I've left behind me, Many's the day when I have done wrong, But I'll be yours for ever and ever, Climb in the saddle and whistle along. So come on, I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready for the whistler, I whistle along on the seventh day, Whistle along on the seventh day. Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places, Black are the nights on the summerday sands, We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle, Hold the first grain of love in our hands. So come on, I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready for the whistler, I whistle along on the seventh day, So come on! I'm the whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready for the whistler, I whistle along on the seventh day, Whistle along on the seventh day. |
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| 8. |
| 4:01 | 
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| 9. |
| 3:59 |
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From early days of infancy, through trembling years
of youth, long murky middle-age and final hours long in the tooth, he is the hundred names of terror --- creature you love the least. Picture his name before you and exorcise the beast. He roved up and down through history --- spectre with tales to tell. In the darkness when the campfire's dead --- to each his private hell. If you look behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast, you can witness now the everchanging nature of the beast. Beastie If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at bay. You can pop those pills and visit some psychiatrist who'll say --- There's nothing I can do for you, everywhere's a danger zone. I'd love to help get rid of it, but I've got one of my own. There's a beast upon my shoulder and a fiend upon my back. Feel his burning breath a heaving, smoke oozing from his stack. And he moves beneath the covers or he lies below the bed. He's the beast upon your shoulder. He's the price upon your head. He's the lonely fear of dying, and for some, of living too. He's your private nightmare pricking. He'd just love to turn the screw. So stand as one defiant --- yes, and let your voices swell. Stare that beastie in the face and really give him hell. |
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| 10. |
| 5:37 |
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In the shuffling madness
Of the locomotive breath Runs the all time loser Headlong to his death Oh, he feels the pistons screaming Steam breaking on his brow Old Charlie stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down He sees his children jumpin’ off At stations one by one His woman and his best friend In bed and having fun So he's crawling down the corridor On his hands and knees Old Charlie stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down He hears the silence howling Catches angels as they fall And the all time winner Has got him by the balls Oh, he picks up Gideon's Bible Open at page one I think God, he stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down |
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| 11. |
| 3:36 |
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Rare and precious chain
Do I have to tell you, tell you once again? Under red lights, on soft nights, it all comes back to you. Rare and precious chain Binds me to your soul round gently pulsing veins. Shackled tight, feel love's bite coming back to you. No gold of fools. No hostage taking. No engagement rules. To leave you forsaken. Tiny beads of sweat thin diamond glistening, glistening around your neck, forgotten rooms, dark catacombs they all come back to you. No crock of glittering prizes. No sharply worded telegram. No excuses for the word-weary. No excuses for who I am. It's a rare and precious chain. Around your neck I place it, place it once again. Drawn finger tight, feel love's bite coming back to you. Under red lights, on soft nights, it all comes back to you. Rare and precious chain. |
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| 12. |
| 5:08 |
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The old Rocker wore his hair too long,
wore his trouser cuffs too tight. Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light. Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams --- the transport caf' prophet of doom. Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams in his post-war-babe gloom. Cut along the dotted line --- slip in and seal the flap. Postal competition crazy, though you wear the dunce's cap. Win a fortnight in Ibiza --- line up for the big hand out. You'll never know unless you try --- what winning's all about --- be a quizz kid. Be a whizz kid. Six days later there's a rush telegram Drop everything and telephone this number if you can. It's a free trip down to London for a weekend of high life. They'll wine you; dine you; undermine you --- better not bring the wife --- be a quizz kid. Be a whizz kid. It's a try out for a quizz show that millions watch each week. Following the fate and fortunes of contestants as they speak. Answerable to everyone; responsible to all; publicity dissected --- brain cells splattered on the walls of encyclopaedic knowledge. May be barbaric but it's fun. As the clock ticks away a lifetime, hold your head up to the gun of a million cathode ray tubes aimed at your tiny skull. May you find sweet inspiration --- may your memory not be dull. May you rise to dizzy success. May your wit be quick and strong. May you constantly amaze us. May your answers not be wrong. May your head be on your shoulders. May your tongue be in your cheek. And most of all we pray that you may come back next week! Be a quizz kid. Be a whizz kid. |
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| 13. |
| 4:31 |
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It's a lonely life I live and I live this life to go
and if I leave you with one thing it's just that I want you to know I'll still be loving you tonight. I left flowers on your table, left the lock on your door. Staked a claim in your heartlands, put grain in your store. I'll still be loving you tonight. Got fingers on the button of that telephone dial. Call in and move your mountains, fill your spaces while I'm still loving you tonight. You want to know how I can leave you? How can I move along this way? Too much of a good thing can make you crazy and it's a good thing that happened to me today. I'll still be loving you tonight. |
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