1. |
Bastard
01:50
|
|||
|
How could I give my heart to a bastard like that ?
Please Mr Bastard, can I have my heart back ?
Too much fiction and not enough fact.
Love isn't blind but it can't see around corners.
How could I give my money to a Bastard like that ?
Please Mr Bastard, can I have my money back ?
I didn't pay for all of that crap.
Love isn't blind but it's got the wrong glasses on.
I tried to live in an innocent haze
Away from the blues and the low down days.
But gone are the highs and the passionate sighs.
When there's too many lies, true love dies, dies.
How could I give my time to a bastard like that ?
Please Mr bastard can I have my time back ?
I didn't want to spend it like that.
Love isn't blind but I think it's got dyslexia.
Love isn’t blind but it’s got the wrong glasses on.
Love isn’t blind but it can’t see around corners.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love
Money, money, money, money, money, money, money
Bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard
Love isn’t blind but it can’t see around corners.
|
||||
2. |
Poor Dim Sally
03:43
|
|||
|
Poor dim Sally from old Vim valley,
She was taken in by the moonies.
Her friends said they would rather be dead
Than sucked in by a bunch of loonies.
Her mother cried and her father nearly died
To see their Sally being hypnotised
And listening to strange philosophical lies
And giving all her money to the guru.
While dancing to the tune of the Reverend Moon
Sally was benevolent and breezy.
But it made her sad to see her Mum and her Dad
Being hypnotised by the TV.
And giving all her money to the politicians,
Who wasted it all on their greedy ambitions,
And Sally was obsessed with her dubious position
Enlisting more disciples for the guru.
Poor dim Sally from old Vim valley,
She went knocking on doors.
Explaining her views and proclaiming the news
And naming the moonies' laws.
When she came upon a mysterious charmer,
Who appeared at the door in his pink pajama
And talked her into following the Dalai Lama
And that's how she was rescued from the moonies.
Sally took a ferry to a monastery
Where upon she shaved her head.
Her mother cried and her father said
‘Why is our Sally so easily lead ?’
The deprogrammers came to unravel her brain
But their threats and bribes were all in vain
And her poor mother she did complain
'Why can't we all just be nice presbyterians?’
Now poor dim Sally from old vim valley
Was told to spend eleven days fasting.
But her need for food was so basic and crude
And she really wasn't very good at lasting.
When they found her hiding behind a tree
With a marmite sandwich and a cup of tea,
She said, ‘I wouldn't be a failure spiritually
If I was the leader of my very own religion.’
So she became the guru of her own fringe sect.
She got all of the money and all of the respect
And she made her disciples swear an oath
To eat their way to spiritual growth.
‘Have another sausage roll, have another cream bun,’
She said, sitting there on her big fat bum.
They said ‘we'll all be saved from being eternally glum
In Sally's own original religion.’
|
||||
3. |
Fortune and Fate
02:52
|
|||
|
Fortune and Fate
I waited for my fortune but fortune came too late
I’ve never been a lucky sod I blame it all on fate
I bought a lottery ticket everyday of my life
But I never won the lottery till I was ninety five
And now I’m old and withering and I can hardly see
With all this money in the bank what good is it to me ?
A lady read my tarot cards when I was twenty three
But nothing she predicted ever happened to me
But it happened to my sister, to my brother and the cat
If fate can get it’s wires crossed you can’t rely on that
When I met master fate down by the garden wall
I pelted him with rune stones, gave him a kick in the crystal balls.
It’s written in the books of men, it’s written in the stars
That some shall be the first in life and some shall be the last
And it always rains on my holidays and accidents are rife
I’ve never ever been lucky in love, I’ve never been lucky in life
And if I could do it all again, I’d never sit and wait
I’d make my own decisions and I’d leave nothing to fate
|
||||
4. |
Hole in the Hedge
02:44
|
|||
|
She snuck through the hole in the hedge
So she could visit her neighbour's husband.
She got through the window and into his bed
And they flopped around like two fish out of water.
Then she came home to her own dear one
Who stood there solemnly watering cabbages.
He'd not an inkling of what she had done
But her mind was full of love's rampant ravages.
Now her own dear one was a grump in the morning
Complaining of how his life was so boring.
Thinking about his worries and strife,
Thinking about his life and his wife
But she was lurking with bottles of valium
Plotting a plan for constraining and framing him.
She put a pill in his cup of tea
And sent him outside to water the peas.
Then she snuck through the hole in the hedge
So she could visit her neighbour's husband.
She got through the window and into his bed
And they flopped around like two hippos in springtime.
Then she came home to her own dear one
Who'd fallen asleep between two rows of cabbages.
He'd not an inkling of what she had done
But her mind was full of love's rampant ravages .
Then she goes out to buy a new dress
To forget her shame and her husband hopping.
But, knowing she never could ever confess,
Finds that there is no comfort in shopping.
So she comes home to her own dear one
Only to find that there's nobody home.
He's not in the garden watering peas,
Picking the peaches or pruning the trees.
So she snuck through the hole in the hedge
So she could visit her neighbour's husband
But there was no room for her in his bed,
He was flopping around with her husband instead.
Oh, she wailed, look what has prevailed.
I am framed by my own game.
I am a fool for breaking the rule,
I promise I'll never be naughty again.
But they didn't hear they were lost in their spasms,
Shrieks and cries and loud orgasms.
They were lost to love's rampant ravages.
She was left to water the cabbages.
|
||||
5. |
Steel Hearted Annie
03:39
|
|||
|
Steel hearted Annie came home from work
Through the park in the dark where the rapist lurked,
Behind the bushes and about to attack,
With the cold wind whistling across his back.
He pounced on Annie cause she was thin,
Cause she looked so frail and feminine
But he wouldn't have done it if he only knew
That she was a master of Kung Fu.
Steel hearted Annie with an iron will.
Looks about as frail as a daffodil
But you don't take a chance on a small thin dame
With a punch like a piston on a steam train.
Steel hearted Annie don't like to pose
Like the trembling victims in the movie shows.
She gets mad when she's in distress
Like an animal in the wilderness.
There's nothing that she wouldn't do to survive,
She got a strong desire to stay alive
And she looks cute in pink or blue
But she is a master of Kung Fu.
Steel hearted Annie lived near a jail
Where a psycho-killer was released on bail.
He crept stealthily through the night
And broke into her house to give her a fright.
And the cold wind whistled round the window frames,
Made a sound like a ghost rattling chains
But the psycho-killer ran for his life
When he saw Annie coming with a carving knife.
Steel hearted Annie told all her friends,
We've got to stand up to violence.
She went to classes and learned to fight
Now she's not afraid to walk around at night.
She's a great big shark in a little tin can,
A little fire cracker with a great big bang
So just be careful what you do
For she is a master of Kung Fu.
|
||||
6. |
Books on your Shelves
02:45
|
|||
|
Books on your Shelves.
Books on your shelves they don't mean much to me
When the wisdoms you've gained are from stories you read
You flash your warm eyes and then look away
Like a taste of the sun on a cloudy day
You know all that I'm thinking is, maybe sometime
We'll give all our talking away for a while
To open the pages of our secret selves
And live like the stories from the books on your shelves.
How to find happiness, how to be free
Stories of love affairs like love should be
Prophets and sages and poets that rhyme
Are just words from the pages placed in a line
And you sit there talking while I dream of ways
We could live more adventurous, passionate days
And open the pages of our secret selves
To live like the stories from the books on your shelves.
Well I've been alone now for quite a few years
I only let people close when I forget my fears
And I know you're the same 'cause your sad eyes show through
That those books on your shelves don’t mean much to you
So if you're afraid to make the first move
Remember we've really got nothing to lose
If we open our minds and come out of ourselves
And live like the stories from the books on your shelves.
|
||||
7. |
Cecilia Brown
02:03
|
|||
|
Cecilia Brown was fancy free
Wouldn't take life seriously
Wouldn't consider security
Had no respect for society
The black sheep of the family
She behaved rebelliously
Objecting to complacency
And moral inconsistency
She went to university
And read lots of philosophy
And lots of sociology
And anarchist ideology
Disagreed relentlessly
With the tutors in the faculty
Dropped out of university
To see how life could really be
At the unemployment agency
She wrote 'Qualified for Vagrancy'
And, struggling financially,
She said 'I object to money'
They found her jobs in factories
Assembling plastic christmas trees
She got the sack repeatedly
For challenging authority
She hitch-hiked round the galaxy
Searching for reality
For individuality
And something called morality
Explored her sexuality
On a free love community
And took a lot of LSD
To free her mind from apathy
But when her age was thirty three
She'd had enough of poverty
She said 'living like a refugee
Is really not my cup of tea'
She said that non-conformity
Was harder than she thought it would be
And so she changed her policy
And joined the bourgeoisie
|
||||
8. |
Small Town Eccentrics
03:50
|
|||
|
Small town eccentrics what do you do
When some local hoon takes the piss out of you.
Do you get lost in artistic expression,
Or sink into some peculiar obsession?
And it's strange to be strange and its weird to be weird
But you don't have to change 'cause its legal.
On the edge of normality lies individuality,
Harmless eccentrics fill this world with diversity.
Small town eccentrics take my advice,
Don't get sucked in to being normal and nice.
Because the interesting bod is the bod who is odd.
Provides the rest of the world with conversation.
Small town eccentrics, how do you do
I thought you'd like to know that I am an oddball too.
And when I came to London fortunately,
I found thousands of people just as weird as me.
|
||||
9. |
Willy Sim
03:58
|
|||
|
Mama kicked the dog and the dog bit the cat
And the cat scratched Sammy and Sammy scratched back.
Then Sally hit Sammy and Dad came home
And Mama screamed ‘I just can’t handle this alone’.
Then the neighbour came in screaming ‘what’s this din?
I’ve got to get some sleep for the love of sin'
Then Dad got mad and he socked him in the jaw
And now someone’s gone off to fetch the law
But Willy don’t hang around here no more.
But he’s down in the garden by the pickett fence
Where he employs his own defence.
He’s got daisies growing around his feet,
He’s been sitting down there for nearly a week
And the rain comes down and it soaks into the ground
And the flaky snow falls and the stars shine down
On little Willy Sim, mischievious grin,
As he sits there playing his melodian.
What’s this crazy world, I got nerves of steel,
Iron muscles in my stomach and I can’t feel
And there’s battles on one plane and wars on another,
And friend hits friend and brother hits brother
And the red lights are flashing and the ambulance screams.
The neighbour’s just got mangled in the washing machine
And Dad’s thrown a stink ‘cause the tele’s on the blink
And Sally’s got her pet rat in the kitchen sink
But Willy don’t hang around here no more.
What’s this crazy world, I don’t know what’s real.
Life in the city is a low down deal.
There’s a shortage of passion and a shortage of fire ,
And everybody’s worried and everybody’s tired.
There’s a cat fight on the landing and a car crash on the street
And Mama’s got a headache and she can’t get to sleep.
There’s a riot in the alley and the church bells are ringing
And the neighbour’s gone and taken up opera singing
And Dad’s had enough and he’s thinking about retirement
And all her ever talks of is a change of environment
And if that’s not all, well I beg your pardon,
But what’s that bloody racket down in the garden ?
Shutup little Willy Sim, won’t you stop that din !
But he keeps on playing his melodian.
|
||||
10. |
The Man with the Hat
02:20
|
|||
|
She could have had the man with the porsche,
The thoroughbred horse or the mansion of course.
She could have had the man with the guile,
The corporate style or the fortunate smile.
But she knew the lines, she'd heard them before
From the dark scheming mind of the man by the door.
She knew that she couldn't stand much more of that
So she fell in love with the man with the hat.
She could have had the man with the grin,
The pink double chin or the double pink gin.
She could have had the man with the cash,
The stockmarket crash or the heroin stash.
But she knew the tricks and the carefully laid traps.
He had no disguise did the man with the hat.
He had no defences, no trappings of war.
She could see just exactly what she was in for.
And she fell in love with the man with the hat.
How about that, the man with the hat.
They sat there indulging in yikkety yak
While the sun shone so kindly on this and on that.
But she could have had the man with the charms,
The burglar alarms or the antelope farms.
She could have had the romanticist
Or the kind bigamist that no one could resist.
They all gazed upon her with envy and awe.
She'd never been quite so enchanted before.
The men gazed around just to see where she sat
But she gazed at none but the man with the hat.
But she could have had the man with the mind
Who understood time, who drank too much wine.
She could have had any man in the room,
The wealthy tycoon or the healthy young goon.
They loved her for this and they loved her for that.
They called out her name but she didn't call back.
She loved them a bit with a love that was slack
For she had her mind on the man with the hat.
|
||||
11. |
Work on that Man
03:23
|
|||
|
Baby's got the blues he's been down for a year,
Now his motor's revving slow and it needs repair.
Mama don't think that it's worth me trying,
Says it's gonna take too much overtime.
I'm gonna work on that man,
I'm gonna fix him up soon as I can.
Since he got his gears locked in reverse,
The situation's got bad and it could get worse.
Well he's not a bad starter when the weather is hot,
But he soon packs up in them winter frosts.
He's got a leaky radiator and a worn out generator,
And sooner or later he's gonna rot.
I'm gonna work on that man,
I'm gonna fix him up fast as I can.
Cause this high class living costs such a lot,
You have to learn to make the best of what you've got.
And I ain't got no use for automatic transmission,
Or those fancy new models in perfect condition.
If I can keep his old engine running reasonably smooth,
Cause I don't want a man to look at I want one to use.
I'm gonna work on that man,
Maybe I'll panelbeat his old tin can.
But those dents and scratches don't bother me,
Just as long as he can get me from A to B.
|
||||
12. |
Strangers and Foreigners
03:03
|
|||
|
Lots of people think, when they own their own homes,
That they can keep the immigrants out of their living zones.
Strangers and foreigners are everywhere
But they don't bother me, no I don't care.
If you look at yourself you just might find
A stranger or a foreigner in your own mind.
So be kind to yourself and have some care
For strangers and foreigners everywhere.
Lots of people worry deep inside their hearts
About what other people do with their private parts.
Gays and lesbians are everywhere
But they don't bother me no I don't care.
If you look at yourself you just might find
That you're a little bit that way inclined.
So be kind to yourself and have some care
For gays and lesbians everywhere.
Cold hearts, closed minds, cold shoulders,
From people who don't like change.
They say variety is the spice of life
And then they all try to act the same.
Lots of people think that they're totally cool
And they frown upon the poor town fool.
Foolish people are everywhere
But they don't bother me, no I don't care.
If you look at yourself you just might find
A big fat dickhead in your own mind.
So be kind to yourself and have some care
For fools and dickheads everywhere.
What kind of a civilisation
Where small minded prejudice reigns.
Inferior behaviour
From creatures with superior brains.
|
||||
13. |
Silence is Gold Plated
02:40
|
|||
|
Sometimes I wonder what you think.
Sometimes I wonder what you think about me
Sometimes I wonder what you think I think about you
Because I do think about you
I read your diary yesterday
To find out what you think about me
To find out what you think I think that you think
But you wrote it in invisible ink
You take your own course in life
You keep your thoughts to yourself
You don’t talk to me at all
Don’t even talk to yourself
You don’t say boo to a goose
Have you got a screw loose ?
What’s the use of a recluse ?
You’re so hard to seduce
Shall we call a truce and have a smooch ?
Is your brain a void ?
Are you feeling paranoid ?
Would you be annoyed if we employed Sigmund Freud ?
Perhaps your silence is an art
I’ve never even heard you fart
Perhaps your heart’s been torn apart by some old tart
Perhaps the cat’s got your tongue
You always find yourself alone
You never use the telephone
But once I spied you out the window
Talking to the garden gnome
Well you finally spoke a word
After 45 days
You even spoke a whole phrase
You said - sod off and mind your own business !
|
||||
14. |
River of Life
03:29
|
|||
|
She was born in a middle class town
She could have gone up, she could have gone down
But she just went around and around
On a downward spiral.
One morning so fair and fine
She stole away while the moon did shine
And strayed on down the wayward line
Southwards of survival.
She could have been a lady
Could have been a wife
But she fell into the river of life
Swimming in a pool of trouble and strife,
She really loved the danger.
But the river of life it rolls and flows
Down by the banks where the brambles grow.
Swimming around in trouble and strife
Way down low in the river of life.
Over hills of thorns and valleys of scorn
Rambling like she was gypsy born
Travelling on through weather and storm
Without a thought for danger.
But she was young and looking for fun
Dreaming of things she'd never done
So, lost in sweet oblivion,
She welcomed in the stranger.
But the stranger he was a wanton rake
For he took her money and he called her a fake
And shook her round like an old earthquake
And left her there for plunder.
But a heart gone down might never be found
Might lie in the dirt and roll around
But she was always on the rebound
And never would go under.
And so the women of character wins in the end
The river of life will be your friend
Not frail of heart, but a true upstart
The river of life has made her.
And like a flood she did surely rise
High as the hills and the clear blue skies
She never was a lady, but she was wise
And nothing much would change her.
|
||||
15. |
||||
|
Squiggly roads chasing the moon
On the heels of the vagabond hills.
Shadows are very old portraits of ladies
Silhouettes silver and still.
Husky saxophones seem to say nothing
That you understand with your mind.
From shadow to darkness and darkness to shadow
Everything drowned in a line.
But headlights and blind lights and devil may care,
Leaving all naked, intrude
And nothing was magic until I was kissed
By the moon and the darkness and you.
Whirlwinds come like emotion,
Passing in waves through myself.
Remembering bygone misfortune
To do with the heart and it's wealth.
Got to be chasing gold or moons
Or illusions of sources of love.
Or wild hearted men who devour young ladies
But never quite do it enough.
If witches be at their sorcery
Or if devils their black art decree.
If all of this scene is just an illusion
It's still got a strong hold on me.
For squiggly roads and persuasive moons
And strange dark lands, naked and rough.
And the mischievous eyes of the wild hearted men
Who devour young ladies for lust.
|
||||
16. |
The Waterfront Pigeons
02:46
|
|||
|
The waterfront pigeons are the fattest in town,
Ain't a-tryin' to get their waistlines down.
Big fat Mama she struts and strays
She's living off the crumbs from the Waterfront Cafe.
There's plenty for all to pick and choose
No errands waiting no jobs to loose.
Prisoners of paradise get their dues
They're living off the crumbs from the Waterfront Cafe.
And we're all dreamers we ramble on
Minds full of future and chances gone.
You with all your trendy schemes
And me with my expensive dreams.
Yes the Waterfront Pigeons make me look like a clown
With my francais hat and my pensive frown.
So absorbed with my etiquette
While they suffer their graces for all they can get.
They got no rent to pay no union dues
No papers full of tragic news.
No parking fines no trash to dump
They got sweet heaven down by the waterfront.
And we're all dreamers we ramble on
Minds full of future and chances gone.
You with all your trendy schemes
And me with my expensive dreams.
Yes and fat Mama thinks she owns the street
A taxi just missed her lazy feet.
And fat Daddy thinks he's the King of the Seas
He ain't restricted by no wages freeze.
|
||||
Kath Tait London, UK
Bio: Kath Tait is a songwriter from New Zealand, living in London. She writes about her life as a carer, a hippy, an itinerant bard and a wholefood freak. Described as ‘wonky and eccentric’ she is an empathetic and intelligent lyricist.
If you like Kath Tait, you may also like:
Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
go to album
Michelle Stodart’s folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times.
go to album
Veneer (20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)
by José González
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 29, 2023
go to album
Onliness (songs of solitude & singularity)
by Josienne Clarke
Folk artist Josienne Clarke revisits music from her back catalog, infusing these lonesome songs with a new luminosity and drive.
go to album
Once Upon A Time In Montréal
by Murray A. Lightburn
The folk artist explores grief through these smooth and soulful tracks.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Dec 6, 2022
go to album
Better By Now
by Brooke Annibale
The indie-pop artist reflects on love and anxiety on her latest album.
go to album
