| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 0:52 | 
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| 2. |
| 4:02 | 
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My Prussian-blue electric clock's
alarm bell rings, it will not stop and I can see no end in sight and search in vain by candlelight for some long road that goes nowhere for some signpost that is not there And even my befuddled brain is shining brightly, quite insane The chandelier is in full swing as gifts for me the three kings bring of myrrh and frankincense, I'm told, and fat old Buddhas carved in gold And though it seems they smile with glee I know in truth they envy me and watch as my befuddled brain shines on brightly quite insane Above all else confusion reigns And though I ask no-one explains My eunuch friend has been and gone He said that I must soldier on And though the Ferris wheel spins round my tongue it seems has run aground and croaks as my befuddled brain shines on brightly, quite insane |
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| 3. |
| 5:00 |
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They say this fair city has ten thousand souls
Some live in mansions And some live in holes Some eat from silver And some eat from gold Some sift through garbage And sleep in the cold I saw a great highway that stretched to the stars I saw a deep river all choked up with cars A babe in a cradle and a cat with the cream An old English church yard and an old English dream Once we had a country And thought it so fair If you look through the mirror You can still find it there But now our great country Is broken and torn And all of its promise And liberties worn I saw a great highway that stretched to the stars I saw a deep river all choked up with cars A babe in a cradle and a cat with the cream An old English church yard and an old English dream I saw a great plain in winter All covered in snow Ten thousand soldiers That marched to and fro I saw a broken down building With ten thousand doors But none of them open And none of them yours I saw a great highway that stretched to the stars I saw a deep river all choked up with cars A babe in a cradle and a cat with the cream An old English church yard and an old English dream |
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| 4. |
| 4:54 |
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For you (whose eyes were opened wide whilst mine refused to see)
I'm sore in need of saving grace. Be kind and humour me I'm lost amidst a sea of wheat where people speak but seldom meet And grief and laughter, strange but true Although they die, they seldom cry An ode by any other name I know might read more sweet Perhaps the sun will never shine upon my field of wheat But still in closing, let me say for those too sick, too sick to see though nothing shows, yes, someone knows I wish that one was me |
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| 5. |
| 5:01 |
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Simple sister
Got whooping cough Have to burn her toys Take her treats Eat her sweets Scare off all the boys Simple sister Got whooping cough Have to put her out Wear her clothes Steal her bows Tell her that she's stout Simple sister Got whooping cough Lock her in a cell Throw the key Into the sea Hope she never gets well |
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| 6. |
| 5:49 |
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| 7. |
| 8:55 |
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Before you go pointing the finger
Maybe you should check yourself out Your past is wide open to question Your future is clouded in doubt Before you go pointing the finger Maybe you should stand back and think Are you gonna be making a difference Or are you gonna be making a stink Before you go pointing the finger Maybe you should stand back and ask Are you really up to the challenge Do you feel you're facing the task Before you go pointing the finger Maybe you should know what it means Have you always been mister blameless Have you always kept your hands clean Before you go pointing the finger Maybe you should see if it's wise Would you pass a vigorous inspection Can you not be cut down to size Before you go pointing the finger Maybe you should stand back and think Are you gonna be making a difference Or are you gonna be making a stink |
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| 8. |
| 8:37 |
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Psychiatrists and lawyers destroying mankind
Drivin' 'em crazy...and stealing 'em blind Bankers and brokers ruling the world Storing the silver and hoarding the gold Ain't no use in preachers preaching When they don't know what they're teaching The weakest man be strong as samson When you're being held to ransom Famine and hardship in true living colour Constant reminders...the plight of our brother Daily starvation our diet of news Fed to the teeth with a barrage of views Ain't no use in preachers preaching When they don't know what they're teaching The weakest man be strong as samson When you're being held to ransom Black men and white men, and arabs and jews Causing congestion and filling the queues Fighting for freedom the truth and the word Fighting the war for the end of the world Ain't no use in preachers preaching When they don't know what they're teaching Weakest man be strong as samson When you're being held to ransom |
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| 9. |
| 4:46 |
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Conquistador your stallion stands
in need of company and like some angel's haloed brow you reek of purity I see your armour-plated breast has long since lost its sheen and in your death mask face there are no signs which can be seen And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind Conquistador a vulture sits upon your silver shield and in your rusty scabbard now the sand has taken seed and though your jewel-encrusted blade has not been plundered still the sea has washed across your face and taken of its fill And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind Conquistador there is no time I must pay my respect and though I came to jeer at you I leave now with regret and as the gloom begins to fall I see there is no, only all and though you came with sword held high you did not conquer, only die And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind |
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| 10. |
| 9:02 |
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Ain't gonna ride that whisky train
Ain't gonna burn up no more flame Throw away my bottle down the drain Ain't gonna ride that whisky train To think that I could be so wrong To be so sick and still go on The way I drink it's been too long Don't see much point in carrying on I'm gonna lose these drinking blues I'm gonna find a girl to make me choose Between lovin' her and drinking booze I'm gonna lose these drinking blues Ain't gonna ride that whisky train I'm tired of burning in the flame Throw away my bottle down the drain Ain't gonna ride that whisky train |
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| 11. |
| 7:14 |
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We skipped the light fandango And turned cartwheels cross the floorI was feeling kind of seasick But the crowd called out for more The room was humming harder And the ceiling flew away When we called out for another drink The waiter brought a tray And so it was that later As the miller told his tale That her face at first just ghostly Turned a whiter shade of pale She said 'There is no reason And the truth is plain to see But I wandered through my playing cards And would not let her be One of sixteen vestal virgins Who were leaving for the coast And although my eyes were open They might just have well been closed And so it was that later As the miller told his tale That her face at first just ghostly Turned a whiter shade of pale |
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