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Description
I made this one on Friday night, with some tweaks on Saturday morning, as an excuse to use the penny whistle I found when packing up to move house. The production has the usual uncorrected style and the vocal effort is appalling even by my own low standards.
The song is about living one’s life in a world that increasingly jars. There’s a slight influence from watching ‘Valerie and her week of wonders’ the other night and was going to be called ‘Eltopo and his week of blunders’ but that would have been too corny.
The song is about living one’s life in a world that increasingly jars. There’s a slight influence from watching ‘Valerie and her week of wonders’ the other night and was going to be called ‘Eltopo and his week of blunders’ but that would have been too corny.
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Lyrics
Some have all the money, baby
And others have the moves
And maybe we’re just merchants
Of a lesser groove
Minotaurs are multiplying
But we’re keeping them on our side
By throwing peanuts in the labyrinth
We do just what we do and we do it good…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places we can not come to)
There’s some trouble here finding a home…
Some will take the biscuit, baby
And some the custard creams
And some will suck the middles out
Then spit on all your dreams
Making daisy-chains all sportsday long
‘Cos we never made the teams
We have no looks of jealousy
And we don’t care what they think, no, baby…
Are you productive?
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
Do you have a role?
(We’re finding the places we cannot come to.)
Or are you expendable?
Does the job you do define your soul?
It’s never ending question
Consuming more and more
Our souls prescribed by the products we buy
That leave us feeling raw
I’m going to the supermarkets
Place a bomb at every store
Made from custard and ketchup
That leaves the shoppers feeling far less bored…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places that we cannot come to)
We’ll decide what lives will be our own…
Hap, ba, b-da, hap, ba d-ba, dah
Techno! Techno! Techno! Techno!
The party is filled with perverts
The fountain’s filled with frogs
And the government’s a pack of dogs
Barking dialogues with other dogs
There’s goblins shagging gargoyles
As they’re begging for them to stop
Now the stone is crumbling from around the church
We’re dodging every stone that tumbles off…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places that we cannot come to)
We’ll decide what lives will be our own…
And others have the moves
And maybe we’re just merchants
Of a lesser groove
Minotaurs are multiplying
But we’re keeping them on our side
By throwing peanuts in the labyrinth
We do just what we do and we do it good…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places we can not come to)
There’s some trouble here finding a home…
Some will take the biscuit, baby
And some the custard creams
And some will suck the middles out
Then spit on all your dreams
Making daisy-chains all sportsday long
‘Cos we never made the teams
We have no looks of jealousy
And we don’t care what they think, no, baby…
Are you productive?
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
Do you have a role?
(We’re finding the places we cannot come to.)
Or are you expendable?
Does the job you do define your soul?
It’s never ending question
Consuming more and more
Our souls prescribed by the products we buy
That leave us feeling raw
I’m going to the supermarkets
Place a bomb at every store
Made from custard and ketchup
That leaves the shoppers feeling far less bored…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places that we cannot come to)
We’ll decide what lives will be our own…
Hap, ba, b-da, hap, ba d-ba, dah
Techno! Techno! Techno! Techno!
The party is filled with perverts
The fountain’s filled with frogs
And the government’s a pack of dogs
Barking dialogues with other dogs
There’s goblins shagging gargoyles
As they’re begging for them to stop
Now the stone is crumbling from around the church
We’re dodging every stone that tumbles off…
There’s some trouble…
(We just don’t know where we’re going, no)
We’re taking our chances, we know
(We’re finding the places that we cannot come to)
We’ll decide what lives will be our own…
mandolinquent
Love this... it has a lot of verve. Your voice is nice... and
the guitar tones are great. A nice bit of Dylan-esque
songwriting; with a great joie de vivre about it. I know you
favour the spontaneous blurt as a method of songwriter,
but it could do with another mix just to clean it up a
little... especially on "We'll decide what lives can be on our
own..." But it's lovely.