1. |
PSYCHO CEILIDH
03:14
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OLD MAN ROCKS IN HIS ROCKIN' CHAIR, WRINKLED FACE AND LONG GREY HAIR,
DRINKIN' MOONSHINE, BY THE TONNE, POLISHIN' HIS LOADED GUN.
SO, THE OLD MAN GOES DOWN TO THE CREEK, HUNTIN' FISHIN' NEEDING MEAT,
ON A MISSION, GET THINGS DONE, GET BACK TO THE BAR FOR THE CAJUN FUN.
PSYCHO CEILIDH IN FULL SWING, TAKE YER PARTNER, FLIP AND FLING,
LEFT FOOT, RIGHT FOOT STOMPIN' DONE, HOGBITCH ROUND AND LET'S GET FLUNG.
PSYCHO COUNTRY DANCE AGAIN, ROOTIN' TOOTIN' BEERS OF TEN,
CRICKETS SING, ROOSTER CROWS, SUN IS UP ITS TIME TO GO.
HEAVY ON A HOEDOWN, HEAVY ON A FIDDLE,
PICKIN' ON A BANJO, VOX ON A RIDDLE,
SWING YER GAL TO A RUSTIC TWO STEP,
ROMPIN' STOMPIN' SLAMIN' TO THE MUSIC.
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2. |
SPUD FACE
03:52
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Hey Ho, get on my land, Mosh in the pit to a festival band,
Cider down nice, with the next refill, Roll in the grass and the mud and the swill.
The familiar pound and the squelching sound, Echoes from the Cider makers,
Settle down and drink a round, With the Spud Faced Chancers.
Take a shot and raise the bar, then kick up a dust in the ol' barn stomp,
Mighty fine vibes and mighty swell, pay me what you owe me in a festival romp,
The familiar pound and the squelching sound, Echoes from the Cider makers,
Settle down and drink a round, Along with The Spud Faced Chancers.
Dorset Thrills and Rollin' hills, In a festival full of defiance,
A Dorset man can crush a Pronghorn, In the shadow of the Cerne Abbas Giant.
The familiar pound and the squelching sound, Echoes from the Cider makers,
Settle down and drink a round, Along with The Spud Faced Chancers.
Scrump around, jump up and down, and mosh in the pit with the farmers,
Tanners, Stubbard, Symes Seedling, Dorset Apple Tangy Yeovil Sour's.
The familiar pound and the squelching sound, Echoes from the Cider makers,
Settle down and drink a round, with The Spud Faced Chancers.
Get on my land, drink up quick, Cider by the pint, spud faced chancers. X2
Cider I up from the gates of shell, With fermented juice of apples,
Give me 40 Cider Press ups, and spend £18 quid on falafels,
The familiar pound and the squelching sound, Echoes from the Cider makers,
Settle down and drink a round, Along with The Spud Faced Chancers.
Hey Ho, get on my land, mosh to a band, Drink up quick,
Next refill, Cider by the pint, mud and the swill. Spud faced chancers.
Get on my land, Hey Ho,
Drink up quick, to a festival band,
Cider by the pint, with the next refill,
Spud faced chancer, the mud and the swill.
Why don't you drink up quick, with the spud faced chancers?
Why don't you drink up quick, with the spud faced chancers?
Why don't you drink up quick, with the spud faced chancers?
Why don't you drink up quick, with the spud faced chancers?
Cider by the pint, get on my land!
Cider by the pint, get on my land!
Cider by the pint, get on my land!
Cider by the pint, get on my land!
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3. |
REUBENS TRAIN
04:14
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4. |
DEAD WOOD
04:38
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Deep in that wood, winked by your hood,
Wool was pulled and made my aching eyes go blind
Furnace so hot, Behind that knot
Time and time again, we must dig out that rot
Your news for leaked, beyond that teak
Surreal charades, it never was unique
So time will tell, your tree got felled
Falling like an oak came crashing to the ground
You know you could, and sometimes should
Take your axe in hand, chop down that ol' dead wood.
For it's the time, remove that pine
Raise a glass and sing, sit back and all recline
Flimsy and fake, bolsa wood stakes
lightweight and floppy making your mistakes
Bow saw and pick, your board for chipped
Impact adhesive glues with eco stick
You know you could, and sometimes should
Take your axe in hand, chop down that ol' dead wood.
For it's the time, remove that pine
Raise a glass and sing, sit back and all recline
Your door slammed shut, the deepest cut
Seeping sap from twisted branch, like old walnut
As hard as beech. a sucking leach
The cards lay fallen just beyond your reach
There was a time, I stood in line
Observing from the shadows watching your decline
The days are not so, ha ha ho ho
In this pantomime your shop sign now says closed
You know you could, and sometimes should
Take your axe in hand, chop down that ol' dead wood.
For it's the time, remove that pine
Raise a glass and sing, sit back and all recline
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5. |
SHADY GROVE
03:06
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Shady Grove, my little love, Shady Grove my darlin'
Shady Grove, my little love, I'm going back to Harlen.
Cheeks as red as a blossomin' rose, and eyes are the prettiest brown,
She's the darlin' of my heart, Sweetest little girl in town.
I wish I had a big ol' hog, and corn to feed him on,
And shady Grove to stay at home and feed him while I'm gone.
I used to have an ol' banjo, the strings were made of twine,
The only tune that it would play was trouble on my mind.
Peaches in the summertime, Apples in the fall
If I can't have the girl I love, I don't want none at all
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6. |
JED JONES 2
04:56
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THREE SCORE AND 18 YEARS AGO WAY DOWN IN ARKANSAW
THE SHERIFF OF THIS DUSTY TOWN, OUR HERO FROM BEFORE
DENIM SHEROOT AND COWBOY BOOTS AND SHINING SILVER SPURS
HE NEVER DID SUSPCT THAT HIS COMEUPPANCE WOULD OCCUR
AND THIS GIANT OF A MAN ALWAYS PLAYS THE SILENT PART
BEAUTY PREVAILS, PERSISTANCE PAID, HE WEDS HIS YOUNG SWEETHEART
TEN YEARS ON THE GANG RETURN TO ROB THE LOCAL BANK
DOLLAR AND CENT, SILVER AND GOLD, ALL TREASURES BURIED DEEP
SHOOTOFF COMPLETE, CHASED OFF AGAIN THE ENFORCER OF THIS TOWN
A SEARCH IS MADE BY FIRE AND TORCH BUT THE GOLD CANNOT BE FOUND
AND THIS GIANT OF A MAN WHEN HE'S SLEEPING LATE AT NIGHT
CAN SEE THE SCARS OF BATTLES PAST, PREDICTING FUTURE FIGHTS
THE RICOCHET, THE TIMED DELAY, ALL BULLETS FLYING LOOSE
JED JONES LOOKS UP AND SEES HIS LADY HANGING FROM A NOOSE
THE FAMILIAR SOUND OF DRIVING NAILS, ECHO'S FROM THE COFFIN MAKER
OUR HERO STANDS WITH HEAD IN HANDS, DISBELIEF THAT THEY COULD TAKE HER
AND THE GANG BEFORE THEY FLED BY COMMITMENT THEY ARE BOUND
THEY VOW TO RETUEN TO FINISH THIS MAN AND PUT HIM IN THE GROUND
ONE SCORE HAS PASTED, THE YEARS HAVE GONE, THE JUSTICE MUST UNFOLD
OUR HERO AND HIS OFFSPRING ARE DIGGING UP THER GOLD
IN THE DISTANCE, A SIHOULETTE, DARK FIGGURE ON THE HILL
THE OL' COWPUNCHER TOOK HIS AIM AND HE MOVED IN FOR THE KILL
AND A SINGLE SHOT OF LIGHTENING STANCE RINGS OUT ACROSS THE LAND
AND THE LEADER OF THE REBEL GANG HE CRUMPLES TO THE GROUND
IN YEARS TO COME THIS HEROS TALE BY MANY WILL BE TOLD
REVENGE IS SWEET AND REALLY IS A DISH SERVED EXTRA COLD.
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7. |
DEVILS DAUGHTER
04:00
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I've got trouble, I've got grime, got survival on my mind
I've been shot but the job was not complete.
I just feel like I ought' a, but all I want is water,
and all I've got's this sand between my feet.
Sun is blazin' in the sky, can't work out the reason why,
Mud 'n' blood 'n' grit 'n' left me here for dead.
Crawling through this sand and squalor, I just feel dried up and hollow,
with the wild birds preying above my head.
Hmmm, hmmm, Doo doo doo
And this storey so begins, with a preacher and his kin,
A Mexicano and lady of the night.
Way down below the boarder, where Cartel keep us in order,
or at least that's what they'd like to make you think.
Spent a night in Ol' Chihuahua, with a hooker by the hour,
To say the least I felt just like a punk!
Coz she was the preachers daughter, I just don't think you ought'a
But rational just ain't the way I think
Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Doo doo doo
Met a guy from ol' Cancun, I dug his heart out with a spoon.
Coz while I slept he cut me with a knife.
The reason for this slaughter, it was the preachers daughter,
and that lady of the night, she was his wife!
Gaffa tapped and tied and bound, I was dragged across the ground,
Beaten, bruised, and bloodied, I was left for dead.
The gin soaked preachers son, had shot me with his gun,
and left me in the desert full of dread.
Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Doo doo doo
I've got trouble, I've got grime, got survival on my mind
I've been shot but the job was not complete.
I just feel like I ought' a, but all I want is water,
and all I've got's this sand between my feet.
Sun is blazin' in the sky, can't work out the reason why,
Mud 'n' blood 'n' grit 'n' left me here for dead.
Crawling through this sand and squalor, for she was the Devil's daughter.
With that in mind, there's no more to be said.
Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Hmmm, hmmm, Doo doo doo
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8. |
CUCKOO
04:23
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Gonna build me, a log cabin, on a mountain so high,
So I can, see Willy, as she goes passing by.
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird, Lord, she warbles as she flies, She'll never, holla cuckoo, til the fourth day of July.
Well I played cards, in old England, And I've gambled in Spain, And I'll bet you, ten dollars, That I'll beat you next game.
Jack o' diamonds, jack o' diamonds, I know you of old
You robbed my poor pockets, of silver and of gold.
Oh, it's gamblin', that's brought me prison, And it's gamblin' that's brought me pain.
I'll never, see the cuckoo, or hear her song again
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird. Lord, she warbles as she flies.
She'll never, cause you trouble, And she'll never tell no lies.
My horses, they ain't hungry, And they won't eat your hay.
I'll drive home, just a little further, Wonder why you treat me this way.
There's one thing, that's been a puzzle, Since the day that time began:
A man's love for, for his woman, And her sweet love for her man.
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird, Lord, she warbles as she flies;
She'll never, say cuckoo, til the fourth day of July.
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9. |
DIRTY MOTEL BLUES
02:53
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WELL, THERE'S REALLY SOMETHING SPECIAL 'BOUT THAT SKIMPY DRESS YOU WEAR,
IT MAKES ALL THE FELLAS ROUND HERE DROP AND STOP 'N' STARE,
WITH YOUR THIGH HIGH BOOTS, AND THOSE LOVELY LONG TANNED LEGS
I WANNA TAKE YOU HOME IMMEDIATELY 'N' DISCUSS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, ALRIGHT! (DIRTY MOTEL BLUES)
I'D LIKE TO CHECK US INTO THAT NO STAR DIRTY CHEAP MOTEL,
ARE YOU THAT SORT OF GIRL THAT WILL STRIP 'N' KISS 'N' TELL?
YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS, IT'LL RELLY MAKE YOU SWEAT,
IN AN HOUR OR SO, WE'LL BE LIVIN' WITH NO REGRETS. FAR OUT!
(DIRTY MOTEL BLUES)
WITH THOSE HIGH HEELS ON 'N' RUNNIN' FINGERS THROUGH YOUR HAIR,
ARE YOU THE KIND OF GIRL THAT POP'S OFF LIKE A DISTRESS FLARE?
TIME 'N' TIME 'N' TIME 'N' TIME 'N' TIME 'N' TIME AGAIN,
I WILL BE YOUR COCK, IF YOU WILL BE MY HEN. LET'S GO!
(DIRTY MOTEL BLUES)
OH, LYING ON THE BED, WITH A CIGARETTE IN MY HAND,
I CAN SEE YOUR SILHOETTE AND I'M A LUCKY MAN,
THIS AFTERNOON DELIGHT HAS GIVEN US A HELL OF A TIME,
IT'S MADE ME TAKE THIS PEN AND PAD AND TURN THESE WORDS TO RHYME. ALRIGHT! (DIRTY MOTEL BLUES)
WITH THOSE MOTEL BLUES, MOTEL BLUES, WILL ALWAYS KEEP US BOTH AMUSED,
WHY IT DOES, NO ONE KNOWS, THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE SKIMPY CLOTHES,
FEELING HOT 'N' SMOKE AND SMOLDER, WITH AN OVER THE SHOULDER BOULDER HOLDER
WITH THOSE MOTEL BLUES, MOTEL BLUES, WILL ALWAYS KEEP US BOTH AMUSED! (DIRTY MOTEL BLUES)
BIG GIRLS BLOUSE, BIG GILRS BLOUSE, WILL ALWAYS KEEP THE BOYS' AROUSED,
WHY IT DOES, NO ONE KNOWS, THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE SKIMPY CLOTHES,
18+ MIDDLE AGED OR OLDER, WITH THEIR OVER THE SHOULDER BOULDER HOLDERS,
BIG GIRLS BLOUSE, BIG GILRS BLOUSE, WILL ALWAYS KEEP THE BOYS' AROUSED
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10. |
GHOST TRAIN
03:48
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Well here it goes again, yeah!
The sound of that ghost train,
Well there's nothin' there I'm said to say, headlights shinning bright
All the way.
It's ghost wheels on the track that make that clickerty clack as they go round.
It's an evil sound, (it's evil!)
And if you see that train a'comin' better run, run, run, run.
Coz if you board that train boy, you ain't never going home. Ghost train, ghost train.
I guess you wanna know, just where the train will go.
Well it goes into a tunnel and blows its lonesome whistle, say farewell.
You know that train will reappear, it's bound straight for hell, ring that bell, (ring it loud)
And if you see that train a'comin' better run, run, run, run.
Coz if you board that train boy, you ain't never going home. Ghost train, ghost train.
Well here it goes again, yeah!
The sound of that ghost train,
Well there's nothin' there I'm said to say, headlights shinning bright
All the way.
It's ghost wheels on the track that make that clickerty clack as they go round.
It's an evil sound, (it's evil!)
And if you see that train a'comin' better run, run, run, run.
Coz if you board that train boy, you ain't never going home. Ghost train, ghost train.
And if you see that train a'comin' better run, run, run, run.
Coz if you board that train boy, you ain't never going home. Ghost train, ghost train.
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Pronghorn Bournemouth, UK
From the heady days of blagging festival wristbands and jumping security fences, armed with an array of kitchen apparatus which were subsequently bashed and thumped to the percussive rhythm of various stringed instruments, Pronghorn have streamlined their operation down to a straight six, and with the maturity of a well-aged cider, have become a potent brew with an abv% that could pickle turnips ... more
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