Grown Up Now Hey look, mum, I can do a stand up wee Hey I’m really grown up now No more nappies or sitting on the potty, Hey I’m really grown up now From small acorns big oak trees grow And a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do So I’m off to write my name in the snow The boy has become the man. Hey mum, I can ride my bike Hey I’m really grown up now Tall in the saddle sort of John Wayne Like Hey I’m really grown up now Look mum, no hands can you believe ? I fly through the air with the greatest of ease “Bang” hey look,mum, no front teeth The boy has become the man Yesterday I used the f-word Hey I’m really grown up now And one or two other ones that I’ve heard Hey I’m really grown up now And very soon I’ll say a few more Though I wouldn’t actually say that I swore More like it fell down my trouser leg onto the floor But the boy has become the man Now I’m sixteen and ready to ride, Hey I’m really grown up now On my brand new Yamaha, my gleaming pride Hey I’m really grown up now Provisional licence and off we go Though I didn’t see that patch of oil on the road Three broken ribs are what I have to show But the boy has become the man Today I drank 15 pints of lager Hey I’m really grown up now You can probably guess the rest of the saga Hey I’m really grown up now We’ll all agree it was an absolute cert That I’d bump into me mates Hughie and Bert Technicolour yawn, my head don’t half hurt But the boy has become the man Today I kissed Tracey and we used tongues Hey I’m really grown up now And I had to hide the love bites from me mum Hey I’m really grown up now Three weeks later and we’ve gone all the way Though it didn’t last very long I’m bound to say But I’m gonna tell me mates it lasted all day The boy has become the man Me wedding was a piss up we were drunk as rats Hey I’m really grown up now And now we’ve spawned three revolting brats Hey I’m really grown up now I suppose you could say it was written in the stars I’d end up selling insurance or second hand cars Or something where you need to talk out of your arse Yes the boy has become the man. Now my mid life crisis has definitely arrived Hey I’m really grown up now And I’m entitled to my little bit on the side Hey I’m really grown up now The missus got headaches and a great big bum Took her Brian Ferry LPs and vanished into the sun Now the CSA are after five figure sum Yes, the boy has become the man Now I’m fiftysomething with a new lease of life Hey I’m really grown up now So I’ve gone out and bought a Yamaha motorbike Hey I’m really grown up now I’ll relive my youth, give her full welly With a pair of tight leathers to hold in my belly Do I feel a pratt? no not on your nelly For the boy has become the man Now I’ve drawn me pension and I walk with a stick Hey I’m really grown up now Into second childhood I slowly drift Hey I’m really grown up now Senility rules , incontinence is bliss Moaning all the time, just a miserable old git Maybe if I reach 100 I may well yet See the child become the man

Journey Song-capo 2 (E) (D)I love the(A) feel of (G)old railway(A) stations, At(D) journey’s be(Bm)ginning (Em)and at journey’s(A) end, As (D)drifting through the(A) years my (G)mind starts to (A)wander, (G)Like telling(D) stories (A)with an old (D)friend I can still remember listening for that far off rumble Rising and falling carried on the wind, The deepening of the note as it went into the tunnel The heartbeat of the engine as the light came round the bend. (A)However far I wander, I’ll (G)soon be coming (D)home (G)Past woods and streams and (Em)over bracken (A)sprays, Your (D)rolling and your (A)swaying gave me (G)something to hold(A) onto, A (G)memory (D)eternal in a (A)world of (Bm)change A (G)memory (D)eternal in a (A)world of (D)change. Those sights and smells and sounds stay with me each step of the way, Back to the engine, safe within the past, When the local people saved the line when they tried to close it, In a world that’s so uncertain, we need those things to last. However far I wander, I’ll soon be coming home Past the (Am)old brickyard quarry,(Em) down the cinder track, With(G) sweet reflection, step out of the(D) race, (F#)Take time out, take (Gm) time to look back, Let the(D) man become the (Em)child of yester(A)days. However far I wander, I’ll soon be coming home

On Me Exercise Bike I do it in the spare bedroom When no one is around, But if you crept up quietly You might hear a grunting sound. All day long I pound away, With all me might and main, Determined look upon my face, The pleasure and the pain All manner of strange sounds I make, “Oh My God”, you’ll hear me shriek As I finally reach a climax, Then collapse into a heap. I’ll keep puffing and keep panting, Morning, noon or night, But I’m busy going nowhere On me exercise bike. My doctor told me that I must, Shed more than a few pounds, And lower my cholesterol, Or I’ll be underground When I was young and in my prime, I leaner was and fitter, But now I am the Michelin man, Through drinking pints of bitter. I feel just like that Greek bloke With his bloody rock, But however fast I pedal, I’m still rooted to the spot. I’ll keep puffing and keep panting, I’ll shut me eyes and make believe, On the open road I speed With the wind blowing through my hair That once was on my swede, The women watch as I sail past, In my tight lycra shorts, Admiring of my shapely rear And having wicked thoughts. Let’s give it total welly, Let’s make that arsehole pout, I’ll blow out all those cobwebs Till I’ve worn myself right out I’ll keep puffing and keep panting, Then I open up my eyes and see Those four magnolia walls, Just like a hamster in a wheel A martyr to the cause I’ll keep puffing and keep panting,

Mist Over Goosepastures:- 1. “Oh this is a cursed place”, my father said to me, He told how underneath these beasts, The bones of dead men lie, No mention in the history books No epitaph no trace, For twas the men that wrote the books that put them in this place, And even after all these years can’t look them in the face And the mist lies over goosepastures, where these cattle graze 2. They (Em) swallowed all the abbeys first, and wiped their greedy(B7) jaws, (Em)Then they came for the village fields, With their wide open (B7) claws Their (Em) lawyers signed the papers to legitimise their (B7) crime, To (Em) take away the commons that saw us (B7) through hard (Em) times And (B7)-all across these centuries, seen (Em) dimly through the (B7) haze, And the (Em) mist lies over (B7 )goosepastures,(Em) where these (B7) cattle (Em) graze. 3, Lord Tresham he faced ruination after treason plot, And he had needs for recompense to compensate his loss, With fences and with ditches, left us on our own to fend, How true indeed it was that sheep do surely eat up men, And Montague’s bloody vengeance came, by order of King James, And the mist lies over goosepastures, where these cattle graze 3. And hundreds came from miles around to join that rebel cause, But with Captain Pouch just a dozen stood to face those venging swords Cut down like corn at harvest time, with blood the Ise Brook ran All followed by the hangman’s rope there by the King’s command. They tried to cover up the shame, of actions low and base But the mist lies over goosepastures, where these cattle graze 4. So in the year 1607, were planted here those seeds For Levellers and Diggers all to fight the tyrant’s deeds, Who tried to bury all their crimes from the eyes of God and man, As they stamped down upon the earth with blood upon their hands, Covered up their trails and tried so hard to banish every trace And the mist lies over goosepastures, where these cattle graze

The Devil’s Man 1.Well,I used to be a banjo player, I taught myself to play, I practiced all those licks, rolls and breakdowns, I wore my fingers to the bone, the wife, the kids, the dog left home, The neighbours moved out to another town. 2. So I set out to make my name, to get my place in the hall of fame, On TV and on stage I’d make it real big. So I went down to my local bar, played “Cripple Creek” and “Old Joe Clark” Then said “hey, landlord won’t you give me a gig?” 3. Well that landlord took an intake of breath, and he turned to me and shook his head, And said “Y’know times are hard, I’ve had so many. Banjo players come in here, most are faster than you in fact it’s clear You banjo players are really two a penny. 4.So I went away feeling blue, I knew what I had to do, Down that long and dusty road with my masterplan, And after I’d gone a mile or so, there he was sitting on a rock and yo! Straight away I knew that this was indeed the devil’s man. 5. So I said, “can you take me to your master, cos I need to play this banjo faster, Then the devil can have my soul for eternity.” Well, he stood up tall, hissed through his teeth And shook his head in disbelief, and these were the word he said to me:- Chorus:- “The devil only takes fiddlers, they’re all he’s taking on, The law of supply and demand determines what you’re worth. Right now he’s up to his ears with souls of banjo players, So you can stay down here and just create hell on earth.” 6. Well, (Em)after such a wasted trip, I (Am)threw that banjo in the (Em)skip, (Sound of banjo going in skip) And (Am)walked along with my(F#) head held (B7)low. Well I (Em)hadn’t gone more than ten minutes or so When I came across this (Am)window of a (Em)music store Saw this box like thing with (B7) knobs all in (Em) rows 7.Well,, I went into that store, spoke to the man, said “(Am) hey,let me have a (Em)go at that thang”, I (Am)squeezed and pulled and(F#) out came this (B7)sound. So I (Em)practised hard both night and day, and(Am) pretty soon I (Em)learned to play A thousand tunes that(B7) just went round and (Em)round( and round, and round...) 8. So I set out again to make my name, and (Am)get my place in the (Em)hall of fame, This (Am)time on TV and on(F#) stage I’d make it real (B7) big. So (Em)down I went to that local bar, played (Am)Harvest Home and (Em)Speed the Plough, And said “Landlord won’t you(B7) give me a (Em)gig?” 9. Well that landlord took another intake of breath, and (Am)turned to me and (Em)shook his head, Said “(Am) I’ve had 64 of you (F#) buggers in (B7)today,” (Em)Told me to shove it you know where, but(Am) there was already a (Em)banjo there, So I hung my head and (B7)I was on my(Em) way. 10. So I went away feeling blue, I (Am)knew what I (Em)had to do, Down that (Am) long and dusty (F#) road with my master (B7)plan, And (Em)after I’d gone a few miles or so, there he (Am)was sitting on on his rock, And(Em) yo , I said “this time can you (B7)help me, devil’s (Em)man?” 11. I said “Can you take me to your master, so (Am) I can play this (Em) melodeon faster And the(Am) devil can have my (F#) soul for eterni(B7)ty.” Well, he (Em) stood up tall, hissed through his teeth, And (Am) shook his head in (Em)disbelief, and these were the (B7)words he said to (Em) me:- Chorus:- “The (C) devil only takes (G)fiddlers, they’re (D)all he’s taking (Em)on, The (C)law of supply and demand decides what you’re (B7)worth. It’s an (C)interesting theological debate we have in (G)hell whether (D)melodeon players have souls to (Em)sell, But they sure as hell can (B7)create hell on (Em)earth.” 12.Well after such a wasted trip I (Am)threw that melodeon in the (Em) skip, It (Am)landed on the banjo, (F#)perfect pitch I’d (B7) say, But (Em) not wanting to be one of those blokes that tells (Am) old recycled (Em) banjo jokes I hung my head and (B7)I went on my (Em) way So I went away feeling blue I (Am) knew what I had to do What I needed was another cunning plan, Now if you were there in my shoes, tell me now what would you choose , Hurdy Gurdy, bagpipes or bohdran?

Wishful Thinking Passing the time on a lazy kind of river Kidding myself I’m pulling all the strings, A fool in love always cheating at patience, Imagination soaring on magic wings Wishful thinking, is all I seem to do, I need that wishful thinking to see me through, As I look into the mirror, I’ll just pretend Wishful thinking is my best friend. Dropping coins down that wishing well, Praying for escape from all this reality, Lottery dreams woven in a magic spell, But all in vain as it will only be.. Wishful thinking, is all I seem to do, I need that wishful thinking to see me through, As I look into the mirror, I’ll just pretend Wishful thinking is my best friend. Middle section:- Could it be that one day I’ll take off, On that magic carpet ride, And all that wishful thinking will come true, And all my trials will be cast aside. We all know that little old ant, Ain’t never going to shift that rubber tree plant, And that ram at that dam battering away for years, All those high hopes will just end in tears and, Wishful thinking, is all I seem to do, I need that wishful thinking to see me through, As I look into the mirror, I’ll just pretend Wishful thinking is my best friend.

Three Minute Limit Standing at this open mike’s like staring down the barrel of a gun, Tune your guitar, head off into the bearpit, prepare yourself for the hit and run. Say “here are some little songs of mine, Concoctions of rhythm and rhyme, I hope you’ll listen to my songs I won’t detain you for too long, Just ten minutes or so of your precious time..” “Play us something we know”, somebody groans, So we can carry on talking and playing with our phones, Wonderwall,Valerie, Britney Spears, Then we might listen out of the corner of our ears But all too soon we’ll let you know, We’ve reached our 3 minute limit, our 3 minute limit, So off you go. At first we might appear to be listening to what’s going on, But don’t expect our attention span to last until the end of the song The amplifier starts to feed back, As you start to lose your track Determined you still perservere, Think ”what on earth am I doing here?” Trying to compete with this wall of clack. “Play us something we know”, somebody groans, Let’s switch up the volume to full to try to compete But pissed up we all just shout louder with wall to wall gobble and tweet At the end of this total lost cause You might get a ripple of applause, When “Oh my God” someone screams As something comes up on their screens, You wonder why did you ever walk through these doors. “Play us something we know”, somebody groans,

The Cliffs are Crumbling We worked so hard all of our lives And found this place down by the sea, Where we could see out all our days In peaceful calm serenity To pass onto our children’s children Well for to provide But now those cliffs are crumbling before our very eyes 1. When first we saw it in a misty moon, You could call it love at first sight It almost took away our breath Climbing up so very high We thought it would last forever Those were the promises they gave A home is where the heart lives From cradle to the grave 2. It was when those first cracks appeared After those deep and bitter frosts What we thought was indestructible Was turning into paradise lost Those storms they wore like sandpaper And the sea must have its way, and solid rock can melt away, Should we go or should we stay.. 3. Now battered by those winds of time, And a world turned on its head, As we stumble in the darkness. Where warily our footsteps tread Like a false lover now betrayed Our hearts have felt the pain Ass now we e stand here broken, our struggles all in vain Now we were so much younger then, And could take things in our stride Tear out the page and start again, And swim against the tide, But now the fruit from off the branches lies Upon the ground on which we stand Our rock and our foundation Is slipping through our hands..

Kick in the Proverbials:- We don’t need no education, We don’t need no self control There’s really nothing you can teach us, Cos we already know it all. Hey, kids, Leave those teachers alone All in all it’s just another Kick in the b***s Forms, initiatives and targets, Inspectors never satisfied, Monitored, assessed, evaluated, Graded, jaded, crucified Hey, kids, Leave those teachers alone We’re all headed for the burnout, Hollow eyed, no life no fun, No sense of humour allowed in the staffroom, Po faced daleks everyone Hey, kids, Leave those teachers alone.. You can speak but we won’t listen, Fart and belch and answer back, Attention span of a daddy longlegs, Just give us Nintendo and American clack. Hey, kids, Leave those teachers alone You can’t confiscate our mobiles, We got our rights, you can’t do nowt, Tell us off and we will sue you, Or get our dads to sort you out. Hey, kids, Leave those teachers alone

Too Dark to See Intro:- Twas on one Sabbath morn, the bells did chime for church The young ang gay were gathering around that rustic porch, There came an aged man, in soldiers garb was he And gazing at that group he said “you all remember me”. The days roll by so fast now, another year gone by, With coffee cups to measure time as in this chair I lie, Just another soldier on a passing out parade Soon I’ll cast off this mortal skin and float off on the tide, Oblivion, let the waves wash over me, Blessed is the sacred heart that rolls towards the sea, all that remains, Is to tie up the loose ends, set the spirit free, Glad I read the writing on the wall before it got too dark to see.(x2) There’s a TV no one’s watching, my eyes have turned to rust, Who knows if there’s an Angel who will gather up the dust Still hidden from the light of day things you would not want to see So as I drift in and out of sleep, spare a thought for me.. Oblivion, let the waves wash over me, So spare a thought for the departed all who brought us to this place We stand upon their shoulders , though the world wears a different face Tied to the treadmill, like prisoners bound and chained Politicians bang their soundbite drum like rattling window panes. Oblivion, let the waves wash over me,

Kilroy by Dave Taylor Come all ye would be poets Who put your thoughts in rhyme Who string your words together Become legends in your time Oh let us one and all bow down To the greatest of them all For what is life if we can’t read The writing on the wall You can keep your Blake, your Wordsworth, Your Shelley and your Keats Stuff your T.S Eliot, and Betjemen and Yeats, Salute the new Poet Laureate Let’s see his name in lights The modern metaphysical Who can put the world to rights.. Let’s raise our glasses to Kilroy’ Let’s all shout out his name, They seek him here, they seek him there, But the painters’ work has been in vain, There’s many a time that I’ve sat here Unable to refrain, Trousers round me ankles , Laughing like a drain. He’s no bog standard rhymer, He should be on Channel Four, He’ll tell us Sharon is a slag, And Tracey is a whore, Watch out for limbo dancers, Of Jacques Cousteau beware And don’t bother with the chewing gum From that machine over there Let’s raise our glasses… So take your hats off to the King, He’s no flash in the pan, He’s always on the scene When there’s a job to be done. There’s balls by Picasso and L.O.A.Q.I.C And it’s oh so droll with a toilet roll Of sociology degrees Let’s raise a glasses to Kilroy.. And while you’re reading what he’s put You could be pissing on your foot..

Space and Time 1.When you find yourself going under, When life all gets too much, Our thoughts go back to yesterday, For the straws we need to clutch To find that freedom that we had, Or dreamed that we could find In a world where we seemed to have a little space and time. 2. And when those slings and arrows Come at us from all sides, And the approaching darkness Comes at us like the tide When forty days in the wilderness Would just free up our mind In a world where we seem to have So little space and time. Middle section:- For space and time are worth far more than silver or pure gold We’re drifting helpless helpless on that river down which we’re sold, So little space to breathe the air, or feel the wind that blows As all our time is stolen away just as that old song goes.. 3. When you think of all we sacrifice To run in that lifestyle race We crumble under pressure To keep up with the pace And that elusive summit Of the mountain that we climb In a world where we seem to have So little space and time.

The Recruited Eric I heard the news the other day, Though I scarce could be believing, Concerning of poor Erik’s fate, It set my heart a grieving It’s not that they had dragged him off, To the war with all its horrors.. He’d gone to a fate much worse than that, For they’d taken him for the Morris. Eric used to like to singaround, Lord Franklin with bold relish, But now he’s gone and blacked his face, And with bells he is embellished, While walking past he stopped to watch, A move that was not clever, They shoved a stick into his hand, And now he’s gone forever.. Singing “Dance, dance with wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance” said he Mutant ninja Morris dancers Sex and drugs and rock and roll Do you want my body, do you think I’m sexy? Somehow I don’t think so, Come back to my campervan and maybe ,later on, I’ll show you my manboobs and…(nudge nudge) You can playon on my melodeon, Yes, you can play on my melodeon. The guilty look upon his face, Told us that they had got him, And now he’s gone beyond recall, Twas better that they had shot him, They could have chosen Bill or Ben, Or Brian, Stan or Horace, With copious promises of beer, They lured him to the Morris Singing When e’er I think about the dance, Though done so trim and neatly, My heart will groan and heave a sigh, They’ve taken him completely, An estate agent called Trevor, An accountant who’s nemed Derek, They all dance in formation now, Alas, alas poor Erik.

Black to Green (Throw Away those Old Clothes) I look back with mixed feelings that taste of bittersweet, I look ahead at the changing road that winds beneath my feet I look now at these ghosts that haunt the cloisters deep within Like the dust that still seeps from the pores of my skin So let’s welcome Woody home. He’s been gone for too long, He’ll sit down with John Barleycorn and celebrate in song, And when the dust is laid, he’ll sit fishing by the stream, He’ll throw away those old clothes, and watch black turn to green.. I look up to the bright blue sky long hidden from our sight, I look down through the darkness now seen in a different light I look around like with new eyes to these valleys, lanes and hills Those dak heaps covered with the grass and swaying daffodils So let’s welcome Woody home. He’s been gone for too long I look here as all those scars heal over with the years, I look there at those seeds of conflict , blood and sweat and tears I look everywhere at the men of straw that sell off all your dreams They come and go like dry leaves that float away downstream.. So let’s welcome Woody home. He’s been gone for too long (x2)

Men with Expensive Guitars 1. He turned 55 with great expectations His lady wife knew that he was hatching a scheme Caught him playing air guitar with a tennis racket Retired accountant gonna live the dream He begged and he pleaded til she finally relented Drove his car down to that music store That top of the range Taylor was just the beginning Now he’s got the bug and he just wants more Menopausal Men (What’s the world coming to?) Expensive Guitars( Gibson Takamine) Menopausal men (it’s becoming an obsession) Expensive guitars (where will it all end?) See them everywhere in all the cafes and bars Those Menopausal men with expensive guitars) 2. Every night you’ll find him down the open mike, With a poser hat and a pair of cool shades Squinting at a tuner, running through the chords, Waiting for his turn to get up on that stage Wound up tightly like a coiled spring, Soon he’ll be knocking on heaven’s door. Words on a music stand in a big font, He’ll be heading down the highway with his geetar Menopausal Men (at least it keeps him out of mischief) Expensive Guitars (howling down the mike) Menopausal men (now he wants another one) Expensive guitars((keeps him off the motorbike ) See them everywhere those budding suprerstars Those Menopausal men with expensive guitars) He badgered and he pestered and got his first gig, First step on the ladder to making it big Now he’s thinking Glastonbury try hard to humour him The new Bob Dylan, Neil Young or Leonard Cohen 3. He’s written a song about a failed relationship Guitars hanging up on every spare bit of wall Combat trousers with 28 pockets You’ve got to look the part if you want to walk tall. Dashing from one open mike to the other Popping up here, there and everywhere Gets one of his mates to record it on his smartphone Puts it on facebook for the world to share. Menopausal Men (kids havedisowned him) Expensive Guitars (so cool and hip) Menopausal men (now he wants a Lowden) Expensive guitars((on an ego trip) A wild desperado with a bus pass Those Menopausal men with expensive guitars) Menopausal Men (now he’s doing wagon wheel) Expensive Guitars (too old for learning words) Menopausal Men (not bloody Hallelujah!) Expensive guitars (can he have more reverb) It’s time they were all put out to grass, Those menopausal men with expensive guitars.

Roly Poly Army Down at the leisure centre It’s just an ordinary day 20 rather large ladies waddle onto the floor As the music begins to play Leotards stretched to their elastic limit Where they’ve rather over-indulged There’ll make more wind than the Welsh Assembly As they fight the battle of the bulge Singing.. We are the roly-poly army Chasing the great lost cause We’re gonna knock the world off its axis As we bounce up and down on the floor We tell ourselves it’s not our fault We got in the state we’re in ‘Cos after all we’re just victims “Cos we hardly eat a thing”. Once we were graceful and sylph-like But that’s a distant memory As over the years we became built for comfort Like jellyfish in the sea Now our bums fill up three bus seats We can block a supermarket aisle Somewhere our will power just flew out of the window And waved goodbye with a smile Singing.. Does someone pump us up in the morning Or does nature abhor empty space In a nation that suffers from over-inflation We are dead heats in a Zeppelin race Last week we all put on two pounds Any more and the scales will be busting Now we’re as broad as we’re long, The scales have got to be wrong They probably need adjusting Singing..

Going and Staying The moving sun-shapes on the spray, The sparkles where the brook was flowing Pink faces, plightings, moonlit May These were the things we wished would stay: But they were going Seasons of blankness as of snow, The silent bleed of a world decaying The moan of multitudes in woe These were the things we wished would go But they were staying Then we looked closelier at time And saw his ghostly arms revolving To sweep off woeful things with prime Things sinister with things sublime Alike dissolving.