| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| - | 
|
|||
| 2. |
| - | 
|
|||
|
Hey toots, you put the life into living
You brought a sigh into sight Ah hon, you make my legs turn to water You bring the stars out at night But they ain't half so bright As your eyes Gee whiz, you take the beauty out of beautiful You play the strings of my heart Oh babe, you take the wonder out of wonderful Oh my, oh my, and my, if you were mine The rain would turn to sweet sweet wine Well he's been up all night Breakin' his head in two to write A little sonnet for his chickadee But between you and me I think its sssssssssssilly. Silly Ooh treas, you got a smile like a Rembrandt Aha, you got the style of a queen Oh dear, you are the petal of a rosebud Next to you all the others could be weeds You're the only one my garden needs Ooh, you know the art of conversation Must be dying Ooh, when a romance depends on Cliches and toupees and threepes We're up to here with moonin' and junin' If you want to sound sincere - Don't rely on Crosby's croonin' - Take a little time Make up your own rhyme Don't rely on mine 'Cos it's sssssssssilly - silly - silly - silly |
||||||
| 3. |
| - |
|
|||
|
I'll show you man who walk on fire
And don't get burned Don't get burned, don't get burned He don't get burned I'll show you man who tread on glass And he don't get cut Don't get cut, don't get cut He don't get cut You can take a knife and slit his throat And he won't drop dead Won't drop dead, won't drop dead He won't drop dead Been a ju-ju boy for a thousand years And he ain't cut yet Ain't cut yet, ain't cut yet He ain't cut yet Hold 'em You've got to crease 'em and fold 'em You've got to shape 'em and mould 'em Take a piece of their soul man Well he can take a little moonlight Suck the poison from a snakebite Movin' round about midnight He's got the power of life See the sacrifice of the virgin women See the deadly snake and the headless chicken Take a sip from dripping red Make it with the living dead Take you up when you feeling down When you're sick he will come around Takes his cures from out the ground He's the one who can hypnotize And you'll never believe your eyes He can cause the dead to rise |
||||||
| 4. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Where are my boys?
They are in deepest water Where are they now? They are over the hill and far away But they are broken men who lie low Waiting for miracles Old men of rock and roll Came bearing music Where are they now? They are over the hill and far away But they're still gonna play guitars On dead strings, and old drums They'll play and play to pass the time The old wild men Old wild men Old wild men, waiting for miracles Lord have mercy upon the many Lord have mercy upon the few Lord have mercy upon the many Lord have mercy on me and on you |
||||||
| 5. |
| - |
|
|||
| 6. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Down on the casting couch
A star is gonna be born A star with the stature of a Harlow Who's doomed And groomed to enrapture All her co-stars, and stuntmen, the co-stars Oh, let there be lights, action, sound Lights, action, sound - Roll 'em! Out in the mezzanine On the arm of a dumb marine Her beauty looks out like a trailer Norman Mailer Waits to nail her He's under the bed And he's waiting for her to be dead He's out on the patio With his polaroid and scenario And he's armed and he's dangerously.... Close was the weather When I was a kid She gave me a feather from her gown To cool me down, to cool me down And I was the galley slave Who lost his heart when the ship went down Lights, action, sound Roll 'em I had a part in the talkies When you were a little girl I've taken Lassie for walkies When she was the pup that Vaudeville threw up And destiny lead her Hand in paw to somewhere In Hollywood That's crazy, a dog up in Beverly Hills Crazy, crazy La, la, la, la, la.... (You better lie low) |
||||||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Oh Donna
You made me stand up You made me sit down, Donna Sit down, Donna Sit down You made stand up Donna waiting by the telephone Donna waiting for the phone to ring Oh Donna You make me break up You make me break down, Donna Break down, Donna Break down You make me break up Meanwhile waiting by the telephone Donna is waiting for the phone to ring "Hello, darling Yes I love you darling Yes I love you" Oh Donna You made me stand up You made me sit down, Donna Sit down, Donna Sit down You make stand up Donna I'd stand on my head for you Oh my love, my own one Oh my love, my own one Donna waiting by the telephone Donna waiting for the phone to ring Oh Donna Oh Donna Oh Donna Oh Donna Donna I love you |
||||||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
| 10. |
| - |
|
|||
| 11. |
| - |
|
|||
|
I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail But the guys were indiscreet They were brawling in the street At the local dance at the local county jail Well the band were playing And the booze began to flow But the sound came over on the police car radio Down at Precinct 49 Having a tear-gas of a time Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets I love to hear those convicts squeal It's a shame these slugs ain't real But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail Sergeant Baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail And for miles around You could hear the sirens wail There's a rumor goin' round death row That a fuse is gonna blow At the local hop at the local county jail Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do Sergeant Baker started talkin' With a bullhorn in his hand He was cool, he was clear He was always in command He said "Blood will flow; Here Padre you talk to your boys..." "Trust in me - God will come to set you free" Well we don't understand Why you called in the National Guard When Uncle Sam is the one Who belongs in the exercise yard We all got balls and brains But some's got balls and chains At the local dance at the local county jail Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets Is it really such a crime For a guy to spend his time At the local dance at the local county jail At the local dance at the local county jail Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do |
||||||
|
