The Good Lyrics Thread

[Gurrier]

I'm a fan of reading a good lyric and picking apart a song and delving into the songwriting process. I think alot of the time the lyrics can make or break a song. Sometimes if a songs lyrics are bad I can't even listen to the thing. I wanted to start a thread where people could post lyrics that spoke to them and where they could speak about them themselves

Redgum have some great lyrics...

Working Girls - Redgum

She said she came from Portland
Where the ashen skies and leaden ocean
Left her like the local boys, barren of emotion
As we talked we watched the raindrops
Running down the window
Laundromat in Darlinghurst,
Like a fish shop from the past.

And her mother called her Mary
After Mary Magdalene,
To deny her beauty
Would have been the greatest sin
It was a profile in the neon and a Kings Cross Doorway lean
To half an hour of tending someone else's tangled dream.

There were lines of sailors, lines of speed
Lines upon the Footpath where she stared
When things were quiet, as night deferred to dawn.
And the coke cups played red rover
In the breeze that scuttled through the streets
Taxies left for greener fields
While Sydney stretched and yawned

And her mother called her Mary
After Mary Magdalene,
There were virgins in the morning,
She had sisters in the pain;
And the wives would clutch their husbands
Perhaps they shared the shame,
'cause working streets and Wedding rings are sometimes much the same.

She tap-danced with the buskers
Near the subway shouting blues songs
They remembered from their teenage years of dreamtime radio.
And the years withdrew behind her eyes
To let the little girl look out
In simple childish innocence
At drawings in the sand.

And her mother called her Mary
After Mary Magdalene,
She had long dark hair and massage oil
And a key to let you in;
And the lines upon her face were maps of roads she'd travelled,
Lined with people throwing stones because they didn't understand,
That a half an hour of tenderness (perhaps they shared the shame)
'cause working streets and Wedding rings sometimes much the same.


Stewie - Redgum

Ward eight at the QE, somewhere down Woodville
A smoky grey Thursday take out your sword
Stewie was born there was blood on the sheets
The doctor was drunk and the sister was bored

Home was a weatherboard housing trust unit
A low cyclone fence and a sparse gravel drive
And dad was a truckie from Adelaide to Melbourne
Two trips a week just to keep them alive

The first sentence for Stewie was going to school
In prison grey trousers he walked in the yard
His mum shed a tear at his vaselined push back
Clutching a ruler, his name on a card

"Step forward Stewart Bedson" the head-master said
It seemed like Stewie was always in strife
"Step forward Stewart Bedson the magistrate said
And this time ten years - next time life"

And grades one to seven passed pretty quickly
Detention and caning and one million lines
Stewie could write just enough to get by
Stewie could read all the shoplifting signs

There was a bond for a biro and a fine for some fags
Another kid's bike leading up to a car
And photographs, fingerprints, juvenile court-house
A year in McNallys for going too far

"Step forward Stewart Bedson" the magistrate said
Over pine-panelled wood leaned the face of the law
"We think you're a threat to property and justice:
Three years up the creek while we make sure"

A robbery with violence in retaliation
For beatings and bashings at the hands of the screws
Time in and time out and time and again
Is this what they meant by paying your dues?

Some people had plenty while others had none
For the same working week, it seemed year after year
Worked over by coppers for tipping the scales
Life wasn't meant to be easy

"Step forward Stewart Bedson" the magistrate said
Over pine-panelled wood leaned the face of the law
"We think you're a threat to property and justice:
Three years up the creek while we make sure"

Ward eight at the QE, somewhere down Woodville
A smoky grey Thursday take out your sword
Stewie was born there was blood on the sheets
The doctor was drunk and the sister was bored


Khe Sahn - Cold Chisel (This is the unofficial Australian national anthem)

http://youtube.com/watch?v=tH07B90NFjE

I left my heart to the sappers round Khe Sanh
And my soul was sold with my cigarettes to the blackmarket man
I've had the Vietnam cold turkey
From the ocean to the Silver City
And it's only other vets could understand

About the long forgotten dockside guarantees
How there were no V-day heroes in 1973
How we sailed into Sydney Harbour
Saw an old friend but couldn't kiss her
She was lined, and I was home to the lucky land

And she was like so many more from that time on
Their lives were all so empty, till they found their chosen one
And their legs were often open
But their minds were always closed
And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains
And the legal pads were yellow, hours long, paypackets lean
And the telex writers clattered where the gunships once had been
But the car parks made me jumpy
And I never stopped the dreams
Or the growing need for speed and novacaine

So I worked across the country end to end
Tried to find a place to settle down, where my mixed up life could mend
Held a job on an oil-rig
Flying choppers when I could
But the nightlife nearly drove me round the bend

And I've travelled round the world from year to year
And each one found me aimless, one more year the more for wear
And I've been back to South East Asia
But the answer sure ain't there
But I'm drifting north, to check things out again

You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Only seven flying hours, and I'll be landing in Hong Kong
There ain't nothing like the kisses
From a jaded Chinese princess
I'm gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long

Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Yeah the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
And it's really got me worried
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm in a hurry
And the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone

[TheIrishRover]

Dans L'Eau de la Claire Fontaine by Georges Brassens, later covered by English folk singer Jake Thackray. It's a beautiful song.

Dans l'eau de la claire fontaine
Elle se baignait toute nue
Une saute de vent soudaine
Jeta ses habits dans les nues

En détresse, elle me fit signe
Pour la vêtir, d'aller chercher
Des monceaux de feuilles de vigne
Fleurs de lis ou fleurs d'oranger

Avec des pétales de roses
Un bout de corsage lui fis
La belle n'était pas bien grosse
Une seule rose a suffi

Avec le pampre de la vigne
Un bout de cotillon lui fis
Mais la belle était si petite
Qu'une seule feuille a suffi

Elle me tendit ses bras, ses lèvres
Comme pour me remercier
Je les pris avec tant de fièvre
Qu'ell' fut toute déshabillée

Le jeu dut plaire à l'ingénue
Car, à la fontaine souvent
Ell' s'alla baigner toute nue
En priant Dieu qu'il fit du vent
Qu'il fit du vent...

[Gurrier]

You should give us the translation, mate. Not many people here know this but TheIrishRover is quite the linguist

[fluke]

translation,

At the clear fountain,
while going for a walk
I found the water so beautiful
that I bathed in it.

I've been loving you for a long time,
I'll never forget you

I lay down to dry
under the leaves of an oak.
On the topmost branch
a nightingale was singing.

Sing, o nightingale, sing,
your heart is merry,
your heart wants to laugh,
mine wants to cry.

I lost my lover
without deserving it
for a posy of roses
I wouldn't give her

I wish the roses
were still on their bush
and that my beloved
still loved me.

not as beautifull as the french version though...

[TheIrishRover]

That's an interesting version, fluke. Did you do it, or was it one you found? That's a pretty broad interpretation, and something I'd consider a separate song in itself. It's nice, but here's a more literal translation:

In the waters of the clear fountain
She bathed all nude
A sudden burst of wind
Blew all her clothes away

In distress she signaled me
For to go to to find her
Leaves of the vine
Fleur de lis and orange blossoms

With the petals of the roses
A blouse for her was made
She being very small
A single rose sufficed

With the branch of the vine
A cotillion for her was made
She being so very small
A single one sufficed

She reached out for me
As to thank me
I took them in such a fever
That she became undressed

This did her please
So that to the fountain she often went
And prayed that the wind would come
That the wind would come

[Gurrier]

You should go around around telling the ladies you are a "cunning-linguist", TheIrishRover

[Clash Cadillac]

I'm a fan of reading a good lyric and picking apart a song and delving into the songwriting process.

Check out James McMurtry, he definitely picked up some writing skills from his father Larry. I can post some of my favorites here if you like. Holiday, Choctaw Bingo, We Can't Make It Here Anymore and God Bless America come to mind. The lyrics from Saint Mary of the Woods (both song and entire LP) are what got me hooked on James.

[Jon]

You'd guess from my sig that Billy Bragg does it for me, with Mick Thomas a joint second.

Mick Thomas
Some times you can say more in a drunken hour or so
Than some people get across in a life of lying low
Sometimes you can feel more for someone you barely kissed
You don't see it at the time and the moment that you missed

For a short time
She was standing there
And you saw her and she saw you
And you recall the colour of her hair
For a long time
You've never thought of her
Then you hear she was gone for good
You might of cried then if you could
Would have looked foolish if you did
Somewhere the tear is falling in your mind
For a short time


Gurrier, I have a friend in NSW that would be over the moon to get the Jimmy Barnes link from me, ta![/b]

[The Duke of Ingmar]

His songs may appear a bit bleak sometimes, but Townes van Zandt was a master lyricist.
He was asked once: "Townes, don´t you know any happy songs ?" And he replied "Ma´am, these ARE happy songs You don´t want to hear the sad ones."

TO LIVE IS TO FLY by Townes Van Zandt

Won't say I love you, babe
Won't say I need you, babe
But I'm gonna' get you, babe
And I will not do you wrong
Living's mostly wasting time
And I waste my share of mine
But it never feels too good
So let's don't take too long
Well, you're soft as glass and I'm a gentle man
We got the sky to talk about
And the world to lie upon

Days up and down they come
Like rain on a conga drum
Forget most, remember some
Oh, but don't turn none away
Everything is not enough
Nothing is too much to bear
Where you've been is good and gone
All you keep is the getting there
Well, to live's to fly awe low and high
So shake the dust off of your wings
And the sleep out of your eyes

It's goodbye to all my friends
It's time to leave again
Here's to all the poetry
And the pickin' down the line
I'll miss the system here
The bottom's low and the trebble's clear
But it don't pay to think too much
On things you leave behind
Well, I may be gone, awe, I won't be long
I'll be bringing back the melody
And the rhythm that I find

We all got holes to fill
And them holes are all that's real
Some fall on you like a storm
Sometimes you dig your own
The choice is yours to make
Time is yours to take
Some dive into the sea
Some toil upon the stone
Well, to live's to fly awe low and high
So shake the dust off of your wings
And the sleep out of your eye
Awe, shake the dust off of your wings
And the tears out of your eye

[Gurrier]

I'm a fan of reading a good lyric and picking apart a song and delving into the songwriting process.

Check out James McMurtry, he definitely picked up some writing skills from his father Larry. I can post some of my favorites here if you like. Holiday, Choctaw Bingo, We Can't Make It Here Anymore and God Bless America come to mind. The lyrics from Saint Mary of the Woods (both song and entire LP) are what got me hooked on James.

Please do

[Clash Cadillac]

This is an acoustic song I have seen him perform live 5 times and the lyrics are very powerful the way he sings them. I put my favorite part of the song in bold type.

Holiday - James McMurtry

The in-laws are waiting the games have begun
The cell phone keeps ringing “don’t answer it hon”
The whole thing’s arranged just to aggravate Dad
And it’s amateur day on the old super slab
The kids are strapped down like a half load of pipe
All safe in their car seats they fuss and they gripe
Well you can’t hardly blame ‘em it must be a bitch
Counting the crosses off down in the ditch
This one’s got flowers, this one’s got a wreath
This one’s got a name painted down underneath
Was the road all iced up, were they going too fast
Here’s five in a circle left from the last holiday
Holiday

There’s a three-trailer rig just a throwin’ up spray
Not legal to run on this kind of a day
But god damn the smokies and the four wheelers too
Stay offa my bumpers or the same goes for you
There’ll be none for him
He that wants it the most
As he hauls it on out to the Oregon coast
No turkey no gravy no Zinfandel wine
You just stay over right and we’ll get along fine
He’s missing the football, missing the fun
He’d play with the grandkids but he’s off on a run
And some hat’s on the radio singing his song
But it don’t make a damn
He’s in for a long holiday
Holiday

Now granny she’s yelling
She’s ready to eat
She’s havin’ conniptions
‘Cause they won’t take their seats
But she’s got ‘em all gathered now under one roof
With her camcorder loaded
She’s gonna get proof
But do you have to wear that
Well I just don’t see why
Please pass the potatoesAw eat shit and die
Did you hear about Ellen, she’s leaving, you know
How ‘bout those Packers, think it’ll snow?
And the minute it’s over they’ll scatter like quail
Off down the freeway in the teeth of a gale
Silent and shattered And numb to the core
They count themselves lucky
They got through one more holiday
Holiday

The highway patrolman
He stands in the rain
He just lets it run down to soften the stain
Of the blood on his pant leg
From working that wreck
And he won’t forget it
In time for the next holiday

Departing Chicago at 9:52
In clean desert camo all baggy and loose
Sits an Iowa Guardsman alone by the gate
The place sure looked different, in 1968

When he traveled with mom, first time on a plane
To visit some kin, he’s forgotten their names
But he remembers the soldiers, still in their teens
In their spit polished boots and their pressed army greens
With the creases so sharp, and their faces so smooth
But their eyes looked so heavy, he wondered how they could move
Now he’s got that same look, like his insides are black
He’s in his mid forties and he has to go back
And he can’t even smoke while he waits for his plane
The uniform’s different, but the mission remains
To do like they tell you, don’t make a fuss
Why’s not an issue, so don’t think too much
You just do what you have to, shut up and drive
If you come apart later, well at least you’re alive
You can get you some help, you can deal with it then
And life will be better, ‘til it happens again

‘Cause there’s something inside us that won’t let us be
It stalks through our days ‘til it’s too dark to see
And it’s damn near as deadly as Texans on ice
Lord don’t they beat all
Y’all have a nice holiday

[Clash Cadillac]

This one is a great protest song

We Can’t Make It Here - James McMurtry

There’s a Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
Flag on his wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing and both hands free
No one’s paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget’s just stretched so thin
And now there’s more coming back from the Mideast war
We can’t make it here anymore

That big ol’ building was the textile mill that fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
We can’t make it here anymore

See those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They’re just gonna sit there ‘til they rot
‘Cause there’s nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square
There’s a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don’t come down here unless you’re looking to score
We can’t make it here anymore

The bar’s still open but man it’s slow
The tip jar’s light and the register’s low
The bartender don’t have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day
Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won’t pay for a roof, won’t pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far $5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one your stores
Bet you can’t make it here anymore

There’s a high school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromatA woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what’ll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? Live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it’s way too late to just say no
You can’t make it here anymore

Now I’m stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
‘ Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can’t make it here anymore

Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I’m in
Should I hate ‘em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They’ve never known want, they’ll never know need
Their shit don’t stink and their kids won’t bleed
Their kids won’t bleed in their damn little war
And we can’t make it here anymore

Will work for food will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
So let ‘em eat jellybeans let ‘em eat cake
Let ‘em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can’t make it here anymore

So that’s how it is, that’s what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper, read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind if you’re listening at all
Get out of that limo, look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone tell us all why

In Dayton Ohio or Portland Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That’s done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There’s rats in the alley and trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can’t make it here anymore

[Clash Cadillac]

This is the follow up to We Can't make It Here. Here is a link to the song. This is a PG rated version as it has been offered as a free download on his website since recorded.

http://www.jennifinlaypromotions.com/godblessamerica.htm

God Bless America - James McMurtry

Look yonder coming, mercy me
Three wise men in an SUV
Corporate logo on the side
Air-conditioned, quiet ride

That thing don't run on french fry grease
That thing don't run on love and peace
It takes gasoline to make that thing go
Now bring your hands up nice and slow

Take us to the land of milk and honey
Sing and dance all night long
Whatcha gonna do with all that money?
Whatcha gonna do when that money's all gone?

Negotiation's just no fun
And it don't serve our interest none
Gonna turn up the heat 'til it comes to a boil
So we can go get that Arab oil

And we'll suck it all up through the barrel of a gun
Everyday's the end of days for some
Republicans don't cut and run
Tell me, ain't you proud of what we've done?

Take us to the land of milk and honey
Sing and dance all night long
Whatcha gonna do with all that money?
Whatcha gonna do when that money's all gone?

You keep talking that sh** like I've never heard
Hush, little president, don't say a word
When the rapture comes and the angels sing
God's gonna buy you a diamond ring

Take us to the land of milk and honey
Sing and dance all night long
Whatcha gonna do with all that money?
Whatcha gonna do when that money's all gone?

Take us to the land of milk and honey
Sing and dance all night long
Whatcha gonna do with all that money?
Whatcha gonna do when that money's all gone?

[Clash Cadillac]

Out Here in the Middle - James McMurtry

They broke into your car last night,
took the stereo
Now you say you don't know why
you even live there anymore
The garage man didn't see a thing,
so you guess it was an inside job
You made a reservation, a table for three
They said you'd have to wait,
somebody must have bribed the maitre'd
Boss got mad and he blamed it all on you
Food was bad and the deal fell through

Well out here in the middle
you can park it on the street
Step up to the counter;
you nearly always get a seat
Nobody steals. Nobody cheats
Wish you were here my love
Wish you here my love

We got tractor pulls and Red Man chew
Corporate relo refugees that need love too
we ain't seen Elvis in a year or two
we got justification for wealth and greed~
Amber waves of grain and bathtub speed
We even got Starbucks
what else you need?

Out here in the middle
Where the center's on the right
And the ghost of William Jennings Bryan preaches every night
To save the lonely souls
in the dashboard lights
Wish you were here my love
Wish you were here my love

Out here in the middle
Where the buffalo roam
We're putting up towers for your cell phones
And we screen all applicants
With a fine tooth comb
Wish you were here my love
Wish you were here my love

[The Duke of Ingmar]

One of Springsteen´s finest:

HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

Bruce Springsteen


My name is Joe Roberts I work for the state
I'm a sergeant out of Perrineville barracks number eight
I always done an honest job as honest as I could
I got a brother named Frankie and Frankie ain't no good

Now ever since we was young kids it's been the same come down
I get a call on the shortwave Frankie's in trouble downtown
Well if it was any other man, I'd put him straight away
But when it's your brother sometimes you look the other way

Yeah me and Frankie laughin' and drinkin'
Nothin' feels better than blood on blood
Takin' turns dancin' with Maria as the band
Played "Night of the Johnstown Flood"
I catch him when he's strayin' like any brother would
Man turns his back on his family well he just ain't no good

Well Frankie went in the army back in 1965
I got a farm deferment, settled down, took Maria for my wife
But them wheat prices kept on droppin' till it was like we were gettin' robbed
Frankie came home in `68, and me, I took this job

Yeah we're laughin' and drinkin'
Nothin' feels better than blood on blood
Takin' turns dancin' with Maria
as the band Played "Night of the Johnstown Flood"
I catch him when he's strayin' teach him how to walk that line
Man turns his back on his family he ain't no friend of mine

Well the night was like any other, I got a call `bout quarter to nine
There was trouble in a roadhouse out on the Michigan line
There was a kid lyin' on the floor lookin' bad bleedin' hard from his head
There was a girl cry'n' at a table and it was Frank, they said

Well I went out and I jumped in my car and I hit the lights
Well I musta done one hundred and ten through Michigan county that night
It was out at the crossroads, down `round Willow bank
Seen a Buick with Ohio plates. Behind the wheel was Frank
Well I chased him through them county roads
Till a sign said "Canadian border five miles from here"
I pulled over the side of the highway and watched his tail-lights disappear

Yeah me and Frankie laughin' and drinkin'
Nothin' feels better than blood on blood
Takin' turns dancin' with Maria as the band
Played "Night of the Johnstown Flood"
I catch him when he's strayin' like any brother would
Man turns his back on his family well he just ain't no good