Cost of Living...

POWRÓT

PANDAMONIA

I hear it down in the hole
Hear it out on the street
And if they're found, they'll warn us
An indestructible beat
It's the same every day
Hardly merits a fuss
Just a pull and a tweak
And an evil in us

I hear the noise of the feet
I'm going to shove it somewhere
A lovely day for a fight
Another troll to explain
They're screaming out, "who'll be next?"
As they get onto the bus
Next into the womb
They're bulldog to us

I hear it out in the space
Where the fields used to be
I'll be the hell on the earth
It's the price that I'll pay
An inescapable crime
And it's so easy to suss
Tell the world, we destroy
Kill it, evil quick
Us

There isn't much you can do
Not a lot you can say
Pandamonia reigns
And the rain may stop the lady
It's like disease that we pay
Nothing more to discuss
Just for me coming back
We've been missing some

When you thought over old times
With a client or two
At peace and in pieces
We'll tell something new
Don't make us win
And there'll be no major plus
Don't move... (?)
We'll stick with our
Ah ah ah ah ah

ONE FOR THE ROAD

You're standing hands in pockets
Back to the wall
19 and six foot two
But not standing tall
He's got a bit
He'll catch a girlfriend or two
But black white or yellow
His color is blue

Hey, get on with life
Stop moaning
Get off your back
Where's the spirit that
This beat generation lacks
You've no pride
No moral fibre, no rules, no code
I'm not like you
I'll have one for the road

But some part's been broken
Up on the sad and low
She knows he won't be
Calling her name anymore
She spends all day gazing
Down at the square
Wondering what happened to
The perfect affair

Hey, get on with life
Stop moaning
Get off your back
Where's the spirit that
This beat generation lacks
You've no pride
No moral fibre, no rules, no code
I'm not like you

The boys all roam London
Where you've got nothing
You've got a lot
To prove or die

They'll raise a little local trouble
Corner some, and break some more
Tell them why
They're outta work
And in the hole
On the streets again
They ain't no never (gonna have)
Any life

They're out of work again
With three million friends
In the line

The boys are on the move
When you've got nothing
You got a lot to prove
Or die

(It's no good to me)
I'll have one for the road
(It's no good to me)
Just one for the road
(It's nothing to me)
I'll have one for the road
(It's nothing to me)
One for the road

It's nothing to me
Nothing to me
Nothing to me
(Backs to the wall, the wall)

He's in the bar
Where he's been half the nights
There ain't no problem
That he hasn't put right
He knows the way to get shot of his load
Solves every crisis
With a foot on the road

Hey, get on with life
Stop fooling
Get off your back
Where's the spirit that
This beat generation lacks
You've no pride
No moral fibre, no rules, no code
I'm not like you

I'll have one for the road
I'll have one for the road
One for the road

BEDTIME STORIES

"...Will you tell me a story?... One... two... three... four..."

"...I'm going to sleep now. Night-night..."

HAPPENING MAN

Hey hey hey hey hey hey
Hey (hey) down on the farm (the farm)
A sudden change is calling me (me)
I'm getting tired (getting tired)
Of winning all the perks inside of me
Lifting the little little grip
And head to town (town)
Seeing that it's not OK
See them all jumping (see them all jump)

I could be something (you could be something)
I could be someone (you could be someone)
I could be a happening man

I sat in the fields
To load the grass
Going higher (higher, higher, higher)
I need some nights of nights
Some days with fire

(You need, you need some fire
You need some fire, you need some fire
You need some fire, you need it now)

I won stars
With my prize fighting
Crawling at night

You know my love
Could you be my lover
My love
Could you be my lover

I want cars, want concrete
I want gas, electricity
(A modern man, won't you be my lover)
(A modern man, won't you be my lover)
Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

I'm a happening man

Look hey (hey)
Look at the field (I've got it)
A line of trucks arriving
Such beautiful toys
They catch the sun
Wish I was driving
This could be the chance
I've waited for

Now (now)
I'll go wild (go wild)
Let me get my hands on those controls
Turn those dials
Throw those switches

I'll feel the 20th Century
Telling me all the same
A terrible jumping (a terrible jumping)
I could be something (you could be something)
I could've been there (you could have been there)
Got to get my share (got to get your share)
Could've been someone (you could've been someone)
I could be someone (you could've been someone)
I could be a happening man

Hey, look at me now
I'm not a hundred miles from
My little acre
I'm not going to talk
Don't tell me to tell you
I converted to a new category dream
I'm going to have while it works

MONKEY NUTS

Buy a good clean living aid
By climbing through my cage
I've got used to living life
As if I was on stage
People like to look at me
I score with old and young
I must fight a very handsome battle (?)
And go home (?)

Bars are all that separate me from the human ape
Otherwise we're just the same
Why bother to escape
They have all the nasty habits
None of us display (?)
Which of us has got it right
It's not for me to say

I could out-stare anyone
Who comes to stare at me
I could show them weird things
They didn't come to see
Drawing crowds in minutes then
With one repulsive move
Make them scatter
Rush for exits (?)
Then you learn the truth (?)

Who's on the outside
Who's looking in
Who will come from who
Who is origin
When the line is drawn
When the tale is just
Who is the primate
Who is monkey nuts

I say...
That spotty little thing's just taken my banana

ELEGY - WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lee
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness
And to me

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the site
And all the air a solemn stillness holds
Save where the beetle wheels his drewning flight
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds

Save that from yonder isly mantle tower
The moping owl doest to the moon complain
Of such as, wondering near her secret bower
Molest her ancient solitary reign

Beneath those rugged elms that yew tree shade
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap
Each in his narrow cell forever laid
The rude forefathers of the hamlets

The breezy call of incense breathing morn
The swallow twittering from the strawdirt church
The cock's shrill clarion of the echoing hoard
No more to arouse them from their noble death

For them no more the blazing hearths will burn
Or busy housewifes ply their evening care
No children run to list their sires return
Or climb his knees, the envied kiss to share

Oft' did the harvest to their sick weald
Their furrow oft' a stubborn glebe was broke
How jockened did they drive their team afield
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke

Let not ambition rock their useful toil
Their homely joys and destiny obscure
Nor grandeur here with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor
The boast of heraldry
The pomp of power
And all that beauty
All that wealth 'er-gave
Awakes alike the inevitable hour
The paths of glory lead but to the grave

Nor you 'ere prow
Impute to these the fault of memory
Or their tool no trophies raise
Where through the long drawn aisle
Of threaded vault
The peeling anthem swells a note of praise

The stored urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath
Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust
Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid some heart
Once pregnant with celestial fire
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed
Or wake to ecstacy
The living liar
The knowledge to their eyes
Her ample page
Rich with the spoils of time
Did n'er unroll
'Til penury repressed their noble rage
And froze the genial current of the soul

For many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear
For many a flower is born to blush unseen
And wasted sweetness on the desert air

Some village hamlet
But with dauntless breast the little tyrant of his fields
Withstood some mute and glorious pilgrim
Here may rest
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood
The applause of listening senates to command
The threats of pain and ruin to despise
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land
And weave their history in a nation's eyes
Their lot forbade

Nor circumscribed alone their growing virtues
But their crimes confide
The mad to wade through slaughter to a throne
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind
The struggling pangs of concious truth to hide
To quench the blushes of ingenious shame
Or heat the shrine of luxury and pride
With incense kindled at the muses' flame

Far from the madding crowds
Ingnoble strife
Their sober wishes never learned to stray
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way
Yet in these bones, from insult
To protect some frail memorial
Still erected nigh
With uncouth rhymes
And shapeless sculptured debt
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh

Their name
Their years
Spelt by the unlettered muse
The place of fame and elegy supply
And many a holy text around she strews
That teach the rustic moralist to die
For who, to dumb forgetfulness at pray
This pleasing anxious being 'er resigned
Left the warm precints of the cheerful day
Or cast one longing, lingering look behind

On some fond breast the parting soul relies
Some pious drops the closing eye requires
E'en from the tomb
The voice of nature cries
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires

To thee, who mindful of the un-honoured dead
Doest in these lines their artless tale relate
If chance, by lonely contemplation led
To some kindred spirit, should enquire thy fate
Happily some hoary headed swain may say
Oft' we've seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away
To meet the sun upon the aplen lawn

There at the foot of yonder nodding beach
That weaves its old fantastic route so high
Its listless lenght at moontide
Would he stretch
And pour upon the brook that babbles by
Hard by yon wood
Now smiling at him scorn
Muttering his wayward fancys he would roam
Now drooping
Would for one
Like one forlorn
Or crazed with care
Or crossed in hopeless love

One morn' I missed him on the 'customed hill
Along the heath
And near his favourite tree
Another came
Nor yet beside the rill
Nor up the lawn
Nor at the wood was he
The next
Its dirges due in sad array
Slow through the churchway path
We saw him borne

Approach and read
For thou canst read
The ley graved on the stone
Beneath yon aged thorn

Here rests his head
Upon the lap of earth
The youth to fortune and to fame unknown
Fair science frowned not on his humble birth
And melancholy marked him for her own

Large was his bounty
And his soul sincere
Heaven did a recompense as largely send
He gave to misery all he had
A tear, he gained from heaven
T'was all he wished
A friend

No father seek his merits to disclose
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
There they alike in trembling hope repose
The bosom of his father and his god

POWRÓT