Posts Tagged ‘THE POGUES’

THE BROAD MAJESTIC SHANNON

The last time i saw you was down at the greeks
there was whiskey on sunday and tears on our cheeks
you sang me a song as pure as the breeze
blowing up the road to glenaveigh
i sat for a while at the cross at finnoe
where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom
heard the men coming home from the fair at shinrone
their hearts in tipperary wherever they go
Take my hand, and dry your tears babe
take my hand, forget your fears babe
there’s no pain, there’s no more sorrow
they’re all gone, gone in the years babe
I sat for a while by the gap in the wall
found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
heard the cards being dealt, and the rosary called
and a fiddle playing sean dun na ngall
and the next time i see you we’ll be down at the greeks
there’ll be whiskey on sunday and tears on our cheeks
for it’s stupid to laugh and it’s useless to bawl
about a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
So i walked as day was dawning
where small birds sang and leaves were falling
where we once watched the row boats landing
by the broad majestic shannon

DARK STREETS OF LONDON

I like to walk in the summer breeze
down dalling road by the dead old trees
and drink with my friends
in the hammersmith broadway
dear dirty delightful old drunken old days

then the winter came down and i loved it so dearly
the pubs and the bookies where you’d spend all your time
and the old men that were singing
when the roses bloom again
and turn like the leaves
to a new summertime

now the winter comes down
i can’t stand the chill
that comes to the streets around christmas time
and i’m buggered to damnation
and i haven’t got a penny
to wander the dark streets of london

every time that i look on the first day of summer
takes me back to the place where they gave ect
and the drugged up psychos
with death in their eyes
and how all of this really
means nothing to me

now the winter comes down
i can’t stand the chill
that comes to the streets around christmas time
and i’m buggered to damnation
and i haven’t got a penny
to wander the dark streets of london

every time that i look on the first day of summer
takes me back to the place where they gave ect
and the drugged up psychos
with death in their eyes
and how all of this really
means nothing to me

now the winter comes down
i can’t stand the chill
that comes to the streets around christmas time
and i’m buggered to damnation
and i haven’t got a penny
to wander the dark streets of london
to wander the dark streets of london
to wander the dark streets of london

YOUNG NED OF THE HILL

Have you ever walked the lonesome hills
and heard the curlews cry
or seen the raven black as night
upon a windswept sky
to walk the purple heather
and hear the westwind cry
to know that’s where the rapparee must die
Since cromwell pushed us westward
to live our lowly lives
there’s some of us have deemed to fight
from tipperary mountains high
noble men with wills of iron
who are not afraid to die
who’ll fight with gaelic honour held on high
A curse upon you oliver cromwell
you who raped our motherland
i hope you’re rotting down in hell
for the horrors that you sent
to our misfortunate forefathers
whom you robbed of their birthright
"to hell or connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man i’d like to speak
a rapparee by name and deed
his family dispossessed and slaughtered
they put a price upon his head
his name is known in song and story
his deeds are legends still
and murdered for blood money
was young ned of the hill
You have robbed our homes and fortunes
even drove us from our land
you tried to break our spirit
but you’ll never understand
the love of dear old ireland
that will forge an iron will
as long as there are gallant men
like young ned of the hill
A curse upon you oliver cromwell
you who raped our motherland
i hope you’re rotting down in hell
for the horrors that you sent
to our misfortunate forefathers
whom you robbed of their birthright
"to hell or connaught" may you burn in hell tonight

STREAMS OF WHISKEY

Last night as i slept
i dreamt i met with behan
i shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
when questioned on his views
on the crux of life’s philosophies
he had but these few clear and simple words to say
I am going, i am going
any which way the wind may be blowing
i am going, i am going
where streams of whiskey are flowing
I have cursed, bled and sworn
jumped bail and landed up in jail
life has often tried to stretch me
but the rope always was slack
and now that i’ve a pile
i’ll go down to the chelsea
i’ll walk in on my feet
but i’ll leave there on my back
Because i am going, i am going
any which way the wind may be blowing
i am going, i am going
where streams of whiskey are flowing
Oh the words that he spoke
seemed the wisest of philosophies
there’s nothing ever gained
by a wet thing called a tear
when the world is too dark
and i need the light inside of me
i’ll walk into a bar
and drink fifteen pints of beer
I am going, i am going
any which way the wind may be blowing
i am going, i am going
where streams of whiskey are flowing
I am going, i am going
any which way the wind may be blowing
i am going, i am going
where streams of whiskey are flowing
where streams of whiskey are flowing
where streams of whiskey are flowing

THE GENTLEMAN SOLDIER

It’s of a gentleman soldier
as sentry he did stand
he saluted a fair maiden
by a waiving of his hand
so then he boldly kissed her
and he passed it off as a joke
he drilled her up in the sentry box
wrapped up in a soldier’s cloke
And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
and the fifes they loudly play
fare you well polly my dear
i must be going away
All night they tossed and tumbled
till the daylight did appear
the soldier rose, put on his clothes,
saying, fare you well my dear
for the drums they are a beating
and the fifes they so sweetly play
if it weren’t for that polly my dear
with you i’d gladly stay

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
and the fifes they loudly play
fare you well polly my dear
i must be going away
Now come you gentleman soldier,
won’t you marry me?
oh no my dearest polly
such things can never be
for i’ve a wife already
children i have three
two wives are allowed in the army
but one’s too many for me
And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
and the fifes they loudly play
fare you well polly my dear
i must be going away
If anyone comes a courting you,
you can treat them to a glass
if anyone comes a courting you,
you can say you’re a country lass
you needn’t ever tell them,
nor pass it off as a joke
that you got drilled in a sentry box
wrapped up in a soldier’s cloke
And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
and the fifes they loudly play
fare you well polly my dear
i must be going away
Oh it’s come my gentleman soldier,
why didn’t you tell me so? my parents will be angy
when this they come to know when nine months had been and gone
the poor girl she brought shame
she had a little militia boy
and she didn’t know his name
And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
and the fifes they loudly play
fare you well polly my dear
i must be going away

THE OLD MAIN DRAG

When i first came to london i was only sixteen
with a fiver in my pocket and my ole dancing bag
i went down to the dilly to check out the scene
and i soon ended up on the old main drag
There the he-males and the she-males paraded in style
and the old man with the money would flash you a smile
in the dark of an alley you’d work for a fiver
for a swift one off the wrist down on the old main drag
In the cold winter nights the old town it was chill
but there were boys in the cafes who’d give you cheap pills
if you didn’t have the money you’d cajole or you’d beg
there was always lots of tuinol on the old main drag
One evening as i was lying down by leicester square
i was picked up by the coppers and kicked in the balls
between the metal doors at vine street i was beaten and mauled
and they ruined my good looks for the old main drag
In the tube station the old ones who were on the way out
would dribble and vomit and grovel and shout
and the coppers would come along and push them about
and i wished i could escape from the old main drag
And now i’m lying here i’ve had too much booze
i’ve been shat on and spat on and raped and abused
i know that i am dying and i wish i could beg
for some money to take me from the old main drag

LORELEI

Pogues – lorelei
You told me tales of love and glory
same old sad songs, same old story
the sirens sing no lullaby
and no-one knows but lorelei.
By castles out of fairytales
timbers shivered where once there sailed
the lovesick men who caught her eye
and no-one knew but lorelei.
River, river have mercy
take me down to the sea
for if i perish on these rocks
my love no more i’ll see…
I’ve thought of you in far-off places
i’ve puzzled over lipstick traces
so help me god, i will not cry
and then i think of lorelei.
I travel far and wander wide
no photograph of you beside me
ol’ man river’s not so shy
and he remembers lorelei.
River, river have mercy
take me down to the sea
for if i perish on these rocks
my love no more i’ll see.
If i should float upon this stream
and see you in my madman’s dream
i’d sink into your troubled eyes
and none would know ’cept lorelei.
River, river have mercy
take me down to the sea
for if i perish on these rocks
my love no more i’ll see.
But if my ship, which sails tomorrow
should crash against these rocks,
my sorrows i will drown before i die
it’s you i’ll see, not lorelei

SEA SHANTY

Dear dirty london in the pouring rain
i wish to god i was back on the sea again
though that belongs to the world of never will be
there was never a wilder bastard than me on the sea
i could fuck all the whores in damnation me boys
though they wriggled and hollered and made a great noise
then i’d drink till i stank and then drink plenty more
and i won’t go down to the sea any more
but if i had ten pounds then i’d raise a loud cheer
and i’d toast all me neighbours both distant and dear
and i’d shoot back great belly-crippling buckets of beer
and a pox and a curse on the people round here
wouldn’t give you me the price of a half pint of beer
wouldn’t give you me the price of a cup of good cheer
a pox and a curse on the people round here
A man’s ambition must indeed be small
to write his name upon a shithouse wall
but before i die i’ll add my regal scrawl
to show the world i’m left with sweet fuck all
and when all of us bold shithouse poets do die
a monument grand they will raise to the sky
a monument made just to mark our great wit
a monument of solid shit now me boys
i met with bill james we fought over crusts
i called him a whore and he booted me crotch
then we shared out the jack and we thought it a treat
the compliments pass when the quality meet
the compliments pass when the quality meet
the compliments pass when the quality meet
the compliments pass when the quality meet

BOYS FROM THE COUNTY HELL

On the first day of march it was raining
it was raining worse than anything that i have ever seen
i drank ten pints of beer and i cursed all the people there
and i wish that all this raining would stop falling down on me
And it’s lend me ten pounds, i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
At the time i was working for a landlord
and he was the meanest bastard that you have ever seen
and to lose a single penny would grieve him awful sore
and he was a miserable bollocks and a bitch’s bastard’s whore
And it’s lend me ten pounds, i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
I recall we took care of him one sunday
we got him out the back and we broke his fucking balls
and maybe that was dreaming and maybe that was real
but all i know is i left that place without a penny or fuck all
And it’s lend me ten pounds, i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
But now i’ve the most charming of verandahs
i sit and watch the junkies, the drunks, the pimps, the whores
five green bottles sitting on the floor
i wish to christ, i wish to christ
that i had fifteen more
And it’s lend me ten pounds, i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
And it’s lend me ten pounds, i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
The boys and me are drunk and looking for you
we’ll eat your frigging entrails and we won’t give a damn
me daddy was a blue shirt and my mother a madam
and my brother earned his medals at mai lei in vietnam
And it’s lend me ten pounds and i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
On the first day of march it was raining
it was raining worse than anything that i have ever seen
stay on the other side of the road
’cause you can never tell
we’ve a thirst like a gang of devils
we’re the boys of the county hell
And it’s lend me ten pounds and i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning
And it’s lend me ten pounds and i’ll buy you a drink
and mother wake me early in the morning