"Beggar's Farm"

You're taking chances. And your reputation's going down.
Going out in the night-time. You think you make no sound.
But you don't fool me. `Cos I know what you feel.
If you ignore the things I say --
someday soon's gonna find you
`way down on Beggar's Farm.

I pay my money for no returns.
I think I need you. Going to find someone.
Oh, you don't fool me. `Cos I know what you feel.
When you go out I ask you why.
And I won't worry when I see you lying
down on Beggar's Farm.

When you run to me, going to turn away.
Won't even listen when you try to say
that you were only fooling around --
`Cos I know what you feel.
But if you ask me nicely, woman --
I'll wake up early one day soon and
I'll visit you down on Beggar's Farm.

"A Song For Jeffrey"

Gonna lose my way tomorrow,
gonna give away my car.
I'd take you along with me,
but you would not go so far.
Don't see what I do not want to see,
you don't hear what I don't say.
Won't be what I don't want to be,
I continue in my way.

Don't see, see, see where I'm goin',
Don't see, see, see where I'm goin',
Don't see, see, see where I'm goin' to,
I don't want to.

Everyday I see the mornin' come on in the same old way.
I tell myself tomorrow brings me things I would not dream today.

"A New Day Yesterday"

My first and last time with you
and we had some fun.
wenT walking through the trees, yeah!
And then I kissed you once.
Oh I want to see you soon
but I wonder how.
It was a new day yesterday
but it's an old day now.

Spent a long time looking
for a game to play.
My luck should be so bad now
to turn out this way.
Oh I had to leave today
just when I thought I'd found you.
It was a new day yesterday
But it's an old day now.

"Teacher"

Well the dawn was coming,
heard him ringing on my bell.
He said, ``My name's the teacher,
that is what I call myself.
And I have a lesson
that I must impart to you.
It's an old expression
but I must insist it's true.

Jump up, look around,
find yourself some fun,
no sense in sitting there hating everyone.
No man's an island and his castle isn't home,
the nest is for nothing when the bird has flown.''

So I took a journey,
threw my world into the sea.
With me went the teacher
who found fun instead of me.

Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said?
Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed.
I try to socialize but I can't seem to find
what I was looking for, got something on my mind.

Then the teacher told me
it had been a lot of fun.
Thanked me for his ticket
and all that I had done.

Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said?
Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed.
I try to socialize but I can't seem to find
what I was looking for, got something on my mind.

"Aqualung"

Sitting on a park bench --
eyeing ittle girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose --
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Drying in the cold sun --
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Feeling like a dead duck --
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.

Sun streaking cold --
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Leg hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end --
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.

Feeling alone --
the army's up the rode
salvation a la mode and
a cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend --
don't start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze --
when the ice that
clings on to your beard is
screaming agony.
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with deep-sea-diver sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the spring.

"Cross-Eyed Mary"

Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief --
if he had a rich man in his hand.
And who would steal the candy
from a laughing baby's mouth
if he could take it from the money man.
Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract
but she always plays the game.
Dines in Hampstead village
on expense accounted gruel,
and the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Laughing in the playground -- gets no kicks from little boys:
would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl
and she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich man stealer
but her favour's good and strong:
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate --
helps the poor man get along.

"Mother Goose"

As I did walk by Hampstead Fair
I came upon Mother Goose -- so I turned her loose --
she was screaming.
And a foreign student said to me --
was it really true there are elephants and lions too
in Piccadilly Circus?

Walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
Saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
I don't believe they knew
I was a schoolboy.

And a bearded lady said to me --
if you start your raving and your misbehaving --
you'll be sorry.
Then the chicken-fancier came to play --
with his long red beard (and his sister's weird:
she drives a lorry).

Laughed down by the putting green --
I popped `em in their holes.
Four and twenty labourers were labouring --
digging up their gold.
I don't believe they knew
that I was Long John Silver.

Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won't give back) --
stole it from a snow man.

"Requiem"

Well, I saw a bird today --- flying from a bush and the
wind blew it away.
And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly
at play --- velvet veined.
I saw it burn.
With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew
right on by.
And, taking in the morning, I sang --- O Requiem.
Well, my lady told me, ``Stay.''
I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.
But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred
close behind the taxi stand.
Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.
Fading in the traffic; watched her go.
And taking in the morning, heard myself singing ---
O Requiem.
Here I go again.
It's the same old story.
Well, I saw a bird today --- I looked aside and walked
away along the Strand.

                        Thick as a brick   

         really dont mind if you sit this one out
         My words but a whisper-your deafness a shout.
         J may make you feel but J cant make you think
         Your sperms in the gutter-your loves in the sink.
         So you ride yourselves over the fields and(you make
         all your animal deals and)your wise man dont now
         how it feels to be thick as a brick.And the sand-castle
         virtues are all swept away in(the tidal destruction)
         the moral mellee.The elastic retreat rinds the close
         of play as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.
         But your new shoes are worn at the heels and(your
         suntan does rapidly peel and)your wise men dont know
         how it feels to be thick as a brick.


         And the love that J feel is so far away;Jm a bad
         dream that J just had today-and you(shake your head
         and)say its a shame.

         Spin me back down the years and the days of may youth
         Draw the lace and black curtains and shout out
         the whole truth.Spin me down the long ages:let them
         sing the song.See there!A son is born-and we pronounce
         him fit the fight.There are black-heads on his shoulders
         and he pees himself in the night.Well/make  a man of
         him/put hin to a trade/teach him/to play Monopoly
         and/how to sing in the rain.

         The poet and the painter casting shadows on the water
         as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
         The do-er and the thinker:no allowance for the other
         as the failing light illuminates the mercenarys creed.
         The home fire burning:the kettle almost boiling
         but the master of the hous is far away.
         The horses stamping their warm breath clouding in the
         sharp and frosty morning of the day.And the poet
         lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.
         And the youngest of the family is moving with
         authority.Building castles by the sea,he dares the tardy
         tide to wash them all aside.
         The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by zhe river
         where the swelling mountain water movies onward to
         the sea:the builder of the castles renews the age-old
         purpose and contemplates the milking girls whose offer
         is his need.The young man of the hosehold have/all
         gone into service and/are not to be expected for a year.
         The inocent young master-thoghts moving ever
         faster-has formed the plan to change the man he
         seems.And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldiers
         lifts his sword.

         And the oldest of the family is moving with
         authority.Coming from acros the sea,he challenges
         the son who puts him to the run.
         What do you do when/the old mans gone-do you want
         to be him?and/you real self sings the song.Do you want
         to free him?No one to help you get up steam
         and the whirpool turns you way off beam.

         Ive come down from the upper class to mend your
         rotten ways.My father was a man of power whom
         everyone obeyed.So come on all you criminals!Ive got
         to put you straight just like i did with my old man-
         twenty years too late.Your bread and waters going cold.
         Your hair is short and neat.Ill judge you all
         and make dawn sure that no-one judges me.
         
         You curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone
         you meet the stares.Youre unaware that your
         doings arent done.And you laugh most ruthlessly as you
         tell us what not to be.But how are we supposed to
         see where we should run?I se you shuffle in the
         cuortroom with/your rings upon your fingers/your downy
         little sidies and/your silver buckle shoes.Playing at the
         hard case you folow the example of the comic paper
         idol who lets you bend the rules.
         So!Come on ye childhood heroes!Wont you rise
         up from the pages of your comic-books?/Your supercrooks
         and show us all the way.Well!Make your will and
         testament.Wont you?Join your local goverment.Well have
         superman for president/let Robin save the day.

         You put your bet on number one and comes up
         every time.The olther kids have all backed down and
         they put you first in line.And so you finally ask your
         self just how big you are-and you take your place
         in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.And you
         wonder who call on.
         So!Where the hell was Biggles when you nedeed
         him last saturday.And where are all the sportsman who
         always pulled you through?Theyre all resting down in
         Cornwall-writing up their memoirs for a paper back
          edition of the Boy Scout Manual.

                                                                 The end 

         

"Some Day The Sun Won't Shine For You"

In the morning -- gonna get my things together.
Packing up and I'm leaving this place.
I don't believe you'll cry, there'll be a smile upon your face.

I didn't think how much you'd hurt me.
That's something that I laugh about.
Bring in the good times, baby.
And let the bad times out.

That old sun keeps on shining,
But someday it won't shine for you.
In the morning I'll be leaving.
I'll leave your mother too.