| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:21 | 
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Geno! Geno! Geno! Geno! Geno! ...
Back in '68 in a sweaty club Oh, Geno Before Jimmy's Machine and The Rocksteady Rub Oh-oh-oh Geno-o On a night when flowers didn't suit my shoes After a week of flunkin' and bunkin' school The lowest head in the crowd that night Just practicin' steps and keepin' outta the fights Academic inspiration, you gave me none But you were Michael the lover The fighter that won But now just look at me I'm looking down at you No, I'm not bein' flash It's what I'm built to do That man took the stage, his towel was swingin' high Oh Geno This man was my bombers, my Dexy's, my high Oh-oh-oh Geno-o The crowd they all hailed you, and chanted your name But they never knew like we knew Me and you were the same And now you're all over, your song is so tame, brrrrr You fed me, you bred me, I'll remember your name Academic inspiration, you gave me none You were Michael the lover The fighter that won But now just look at me I'm looking down at you No, I'm not bein' flash It's what I'm built to do Oh Geno, Woh-oh-oh Geno-o Oh Geno, Woh-oh-oh Geno-o |
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| 2. |
| 3:46 | 
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| 3. |
| 4:08 |
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| 4. |
| 4:41 |
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You're looking to win it, but not taking it in
Uppers give you heart impotence but don't tell you anything. People are saying, you're losing your feel. Pretend you don't hear Holed up in white Harlem, your conscience and you You might need sympathy but that's not what I'd tell you Your winning day was long ago Don't let it show. You're walking on marble, it's scorching your feet (1to2lines missinghere) Penthouse celebrity, Yes But watch what you eat People are saying you're losing your feel Pretend you don't hear Don't come any closer. Holed up in white Harlem, your conscience and you You might need sympathy but that's not what I'd tell you Your winning day was long ago Don't let it show. (something here, around 4 words) |
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| 5. |
| 3:31 |
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| 6. |
| 2:43 |
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| 7. |
| 4:14 |
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You gave me your ace card
I gave you my time In a day of confusion I said Id stash it with mine But now my temperatures rising My back has grown small If you keep on calling I dont think Ill give anymore Cos you drank my blood And theres no more left for you Yes you shot to kill But you couldnt see it through We could have wrecked this place Won another race Could have walked scot-free out of here You held out your greasy hand It slipped away I could have died I could have cried Could have saved you this time Cos you drank my blood And theres no more left for you Yes you shot to kill But you couldnt see it through. We could have wrecked this place Won another race Could have walked scot-free out of here But if there is someone Point me at someone Show me someone Who feels like I see. |
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| 8. |
| 2:59 |
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| 9. |
| 3:59 |
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| 10. |
| 1:12 |
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| 11. |
| 3:31 |
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