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| S p i t t i n g
F e a t h e r s |
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Put It On Red
(Spitting Feathers;
The Fabbies:
Let's Hear it For the Little Fella)
Once I had the swagger of a Cagney or a Dean
A finer looking gentleman your eyes have never seen
With gold on my fingers and love on my bed
Ah! But take me down to Carlo, boys
And put it all on Red
Chorus:
Put it on Red (x3)
Take it and put it all on Red
Wednesday was a gamble; every walk a risk
You can lose the world in the clenching of a fist
But you can win it back with a fairground kiss
Ah! Take me to Carlo, boys
And I swear we'll never miss
Now there is ice upon the water and ghosts around the dawn
Along the embankment I struggle to keep warm
I throw a dozen pebbles at a dozen passing ships
And as Lady Luck would have it now, half a dozen miss
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Dementia Pugilistica
(Spitting
Feathers;
Red Sky
Coven Volume 5)
If he were fighting today
He would have been a champion
If he were fighting today!
Ain't it what they always say?
They called him Irish Gerry
Nobody hit harder
He would take three punches
Just to land one
Chorus:
There's no quit in a Quarry (x2)
Twice he fought Ali
Twice he fought Smokin' Joe
400 bouts of boxing
The Great Whit Hope
He was big and blond and bold
When the lights were upon him
And it broke my heart
When he fell apart publically
When everything was gone
The cheers had turned to silence
There was only silence
Dementia Pugilistica
Now his mind it was 80
As he was reaching 50
When he was whipped by a hungry club fighter
30 years his junior
It was painful to see him
It was painful to hear him
They say he won his last fight
When they switched off the machine
If he were fighting today!
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Cold Wind
(Spitting Feathers)
I'm stuck in the cold wind
Then again!
One sun and a thousand winters
Here I come on the track
Look for me
I'm dressed in black
With my hat on
And my great big boots
And my great coat
And my woollen suit
Outside in the cold wind
One sun and a thousand winters
Cold wind (x2)
I'm all-alone, I did it myself
Look at the shape I'm in (x2)
Look at the way I am
It wasn't meant to be like this
The cold lash of my lover's tongue
Whips through my diamond
My diamond lung
My iron lung
Meet me
Meet me
I speak but nobody is listening
I said I'm loving this
I speak
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Ferdinand
(Spitting
Feathers; The Fabbies:
Let's
Hear it For the Little Fella)
Ferdinand has gone away
Washed from the pavements like the chalk
How I wish he were with me
Ferdinand has gone and lost himself again
I hear him, when I pick myself back up!
Ferdinand has gone away
Everybody always said he would
I miss his uselessness and lies
He had beauty in a really ugly way
I hear him, when I pick myself back up!
Ferdinand is in the North
I saw a letter that he wrote
And it wasn't signed alone
The children singing, Daddy, come on home!
I hear him, when I pick myself back up!
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Happy Birthday Revolution
(Spitting Feathers;
Levellers: Hello
Pig; Levellers: Happy
Birthday Revolution; The Fabbies:
Let's Hear
it For the Little Fella)
(Tabs)
Car horns and Rumba music
Through this city's broken heart
Is this the Devil's own backyard?
It was forty years ago
That old Batista fell
To a rag-bag of men
The world remembers well
Chorus:
Happy Birthday Revolution (x2)
I'm standing here watching the world fall apart
Our leader he was young
Gallant and divine
It was the age of blood and romance
They shot him in Bolivia
No tears did we cry
For how many men can choose
The way that they die?
We paint him on buildings
With sadness in his eyes
If we suffer hungry days
We call it sacrifice
Some say his dream is full of holes
But we have dignity and pride
We have independence
Or is it just some Yankee lie?
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When I Come Through For
You
(Spitting
Feathers)
When I come through for you (x2)
No two people in the whole wide world
Could hurt the way we do
But when I come through for you
I love you like a fool (x2)
But I need to learn a few more tricks
I should have learnt at school
But when I come through for you
In a crowded room (x2)
They'll recognise us instantly
We're the ones in misery
But when I come through for you
I'm the Jack of every trade (x2)
But there was not a single sacrifice
I was prepared to make
But when I come through for you
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Mary, Mary
(Spitting Feathers)
Chorus:
I don't know how you do it
You do it on your own
I don't know how you even have the time
There is no part of you, no part of you you keep for you
No part of you that you can ever hide
Three little kids on the fourteenth floor
Two little windows and a big steel door
Two little windows and a big steel door
Three little kids on the fourteenth floor
Four little meals three times a day
One hundred dreams to keep at bay
A hundred dreams to keep at bay
Four little meals three times a day
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Little Boy Blue
(Spitting
Feathers)
Chorus:
Come little boy blue
Come blow on your horn
The sun is arising
There's work to be done
He does things for men
They pay him cash
It pays his rent (x2)
He does things for lonely people
He does things for men
He does things for men
Down Leicester Square
He does things for people everywhere (x2)
He does things for men
He does things for men in secret places
Fat men, thin men
Belts and braces
He made a killing at the Goodwood Races
He does things for men
He does things for men
Who then arrest him for it
The TV crews they pay him for it
Everybody I know should applaude him for it
He does things for men
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Sweetest Heart
(Spitting Feathers;
The Fabbies:
Let's Hear it For the Little Fella)
He'll be walking free Wormwood in the rain (x2)
But in six sweet months he'll be going back again
Don't you know he's got the sweetest heart?
He says he didn't do it but he did (x2)
Even his mother doesn't know where the money gets hid
Just above the sweetest heart
So, if you are the manager of a Birmingham hotel
You might think you are in the money
But you'll be walking into hell
And if you are the night-watchman from a Birmingham hotel
You might think you are in the basement
But you'll be walking into hell
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Wedding Ground
(Spitting
Feathers; Drunk in Public: The
Muddy Road to Invergarry; The Fabbies:
Let's
Hear it For the Little Fella)
C'mon and take my hand (x3)
Lead me down to the wedding ground
Take my hand
Like a killer bee (x3)
You slaughter me
Like a killer bee
Fetch a drunken priest (x3)
Lead him down to the wedding ground
With you and me
To tell the truth I'm a little shy
C'mon and take my hand, lead me down to the wedding
ground
Take my hand
Ring a big brass bell (x3)(...) well
From here to Camberwell
Ring a big brass bell
C'mon and take my hand (x3)
Lead me down to the wedding ground
Take my hand
Let the bells ring out over Scotland and England
Let the bells ring out over Wales and Ireland
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Rosie
(Spitting Feathers;
Red Sky Coven
Volume 3)
Chorus:
I called her Rosie
Because rosy was our love
She was hardest to hold and hellish to keep
But everybody said her beauty
Lit up the whole of Coppersmith Street
A tear came to her eye and a blush came to my cheek
When I laid her down in the middle of a crisp, white linen
sheet
I said, Hey Rosie, you truly are my love
I gave her clear cool mountain water
Because rosy was our love
But when she blew away on a summer's day
Everybody said, Poor girl; she never had much luck
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Pour Your Whisky On My
Road
(Spitting
Feathers)
Me I laid the tarmac
You painted the lines
We raised the telegraph poles
Together, we blast through solid rock
Pour your whisky on my road
Chorus:
You can pour your whisky on my road (x2)
It is a thousand miles long
Every friend I had is gone
Pour your whisky on my road
There's a chattering on the wire
The lovers whispering
We brought them together, don't you know?
My black tar blood is going to cover the globe
Pour your whisky on my road
Those chrome eighteen-wheelers
They rumble through the night
Shake me to the bottom of my soul
But my black tar blood is from the furnaces of Hell
Pour your whisky on my road
The priest came around
Preaching to the mob
He say, Your gonna reap, just what you sow
But you can grow nothing in my black tar blood
Pour your whisky on my road
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