 Jenny Doesn’t Mind studio demo Jenny she’s always smiling, nothing seems to get her down The others, she says, are wearing theirs upside down Jenny doesn’t seem to mind them, she doesn’t join in their games Jenny doesn’t seem to understand she is not the same Jenny is kind of awkward, she doesn’t know what to say Likely she’s going to play on her own today It seems so cruel to wake her when she’s so far away What do we say when she asks, ‘Why am I this way?’ “Daddy, she says, “please tell me when will I be like them? I never want to feel this way again.” Jenny Jenny don’t mind them, Jenny Jenny don’t cry Jenny is autistic, but you may chose to interpret this lyric in another way. As the father of a child with Asperger Syndrome I found this particularly painful to write, but necessary.
Forget-Me-Not
home demo Where do you lead me mine own memory? Down through the years till dimly I see The wraith of the child that I used to be And what am I to make of what you will show me? Why bring me here where I can no longer go Back to the garden where the forget-me-nots grow And thence to the house where once I did play These are but the shades of yesterday Oh had I known what such happiness cost The lingering heartache of paradise lost Would not it be kinder to let me to forget What once made me happy and yet and yet… Where will you lead me sweet memory? Whither we go and why must I follow thee?
Sally Can’t Cry
studio demo Sally she’s hurting awful bad, she’s gotta have one more fix Sally she knows when she gets this way she’s going to have to turn some tricks Sally can’t cry, can’t cry no more. Sally don’t know how she got so low, why every damn day’s the same The needle won’t sting when it goes in, when you’re numb you can’t feel the pain She lies to herself ‘cause she’s got no one else. One last time then she’ll walk away She don’t care it costs more every time that she scores she just needs to get through the day Sally she’s just got to have that rush, she’s got to shoot up again She has a real need that she’s got to feed a need to ease the pain Her Room Is Like A Garden
studio demo Her room is like a garden adorned with scented flowers Her bed is it an abhor and she the princess in the tower Her skin is white like marble and round her Egyptian eyes Her face is framed with ringlets patterning the pillow where she lies Had we but time child, had we but time if we had tomorrow if tomorrow were mine You would have the season to bud and to bloom but summer is fleeting As the rose’s perfume Her room it is an orchard, a glade of tangled vines Where on a verdant blanket she so gracefully reclines.
Wrote Myself A Letter
home demo I wrote a letter today ’cause I might need it someday And some things need to be said in the years that lie ahead And it read… You won’t win every hand Cause not everything goes to plan Just do the best that you can I’m Ok as I am And move on This is the letter I wrote myself today I wrote a letter today to tell myself it’s OK If things don’t work out just right Just give it time and they might Turn out fine And don’t try to hold on to those whose time’s come and gone nothing will last the good and bad times will pass This is the letter I wrote myself today I wrote a letter to myself, just in case there is no one else, to say “It’s OK Don’t try to save everyone. You’ve got to let be what is done something inside you will know sometimes you have to let go” And don’t be frightened to try or to say goodbye, cause somehow you will get by, Yes, you’ll get by I wrote this song for Anna Barbazza, a very talented young Italian singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who has graced several of my albums and plays bass and sings in my Italian band. It was my small way of thanking her for all she has done for me and perhaps play ‘the wise old man’ who is passing on his guidance to the young ingenue.
When I See That Girl
home demo I’m gonna see that girl and when I do she’s gonna be sorry it was me she ran into When I see that girl again I’m gonna see that girl and I’ll tell her straight If she has changed her mind well, too bad cause it’s too late If I see that girl again If I see that girl I’ll tell her to her face that she ain’t no good I’ll put her in her place I don’t need that girl no more When I see that girl I won’t bite my tongue I’ll tell her right out now just what she done How she hurt me so but now I don’t care Cause I got a girl and I got one to spare I don’t need that girl no more But it’s not true big boys don’t cry Preaching The Devil’s Gospel
studio outtake It was a night for neither man nor beast I thought I’d send out for a priest Guess it was time to confess my sins Though, hell, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I was raised in a one-whore town Which didn’t wake up till the sun went down I didn’t see no sense in going to school Just to plough a crooked furrow behind a cross-eyed mule I’ve been preaching the devil’s gospel for so long I don’t know right from wrong. I had so little time to spare though I ain’t going anywhere Till I’m ready to meet my maker Or be one more joker for the undertaker Lawdy mama how I misbehaved but I won’t be born again I won’t be saved My mama said I weren’t no good, I ain’t done what a good boy should But as Preacher John used to say, my kind don’t get to heaven anyway The main reason I rejected this track was that I felt the devil had appeared in far too many of my songs and the good ol’ southern boy is not a role that is one I ought to be playing.
Charlie Manson’s Wedding
studio outtake I got a letter from Ellie Mae she’s getting hitched a week come Sunday Don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout the groom, no sir ‘Cept he’s doing ten to twenty in stir Yeah I’ve been invited to a swanky do All the cons will be there and the crazies too Gonna be a ring ding hullabaloo Might even take a bath and get a new tattoo He’s no spring chicken, but hey, what the hell They won’t be playing house in no six foot cell She’ll bust him out and they’ll go on the lam She’ll get him out if anyone can I’ll get my coon dog and clean my gun Sweet home Alabama we’ll have us some fun Them banjo pickers will play ‘here comes the bride’ Lawdy mama, we’ll get dixie fried We’re all going to Charlie Manson’s wedding Gonna get higher than a hog at mating time Yeah we’re all going to Charlie Manson’s wedding Gonna give away that little girl of mine She’s real enterprising that girl of mine She’s pricklier than a porcupine Can’t believe she’s all growed up Drinks, cusses and fights and drives a pick up truck He could croak anytime soon five will get you ten it’ll be on their honeymoon But she’s got a scheme to make us some dough Exhibiting his carcass in a travellin’ show I might tear up when I give away the bride jus’ like I did fur Bonnie and Clyde Yeah I might get sappy when I give her away now my baby’s in the family way Note: ‘ten to twenty in stir’ means sentenced to ten to twenty years in jail. ‘in the family way’ means pregnant. I dropped this because it was a mite too whimsical to sit well in the context of ‘1313 Mocking Bird Lane’ and it was another case of the good ol’ Southern boy not sitting too comfortably with the Englishman.
Black Shirt Tango
home demo All the little Piggies just waiting for their chance They’re ready and their eager to go into their dance All they need’s a leader to strike up a martial tune So they can strut and swagger up and down the room Here come the black shirts, malicious little swine A gang of spiteful schoolboys, goose stepping into line Little wooden soldiers, pigs in shiny boots Heads back, chests thrust out, arms outstretched in salute They’ll pick on someone half their size, beat them till they see sense A little physical persuasion to teach obedience It’s the law of the jungle, pity is for the weak Strike first and strike them hard when they turn the other cheek Testy and belligerent, Piggies spoiling for a fight There’s so many of them and they’re always in the right When they were handing out common sense, tell me where were you? Busy telling everyone how to behave and what to do Lawdy, lawdy, lawdy don’t they look a sight Straining at the leash and ravenous for a bite Lawdy, lawdy, lawdy malicious little swine So many piggies goose stepping into line They think they know how to behave ‘cause they were brought up right Not like Johnny foreigner they’re whiter yes than white Put the boot into the paki, the black boy and the Jew They can’t allow just anyone to join, it just wouldn’t do
Do The Birds Still Sing In Riga?
home demo Do the birds still sing in Riga and do children still play their games? Does life go on though we have gone and not a trace remains? Did no one know? Did no one see? Did no one question why? And do they still pass this accursed place while lowering their eyes? There was a station once at Riga, now deserted and disowned The platform long neglected and the rusted rails are overgrown The station clock it did not stop when the last train discharged its load Its painted face, its pale drawn hands the same hour always showed Here memory has atrophied and time itself stands still And so the painted clock shows 12 o’clock and it always will. The station’s but a crude façade, a cruel and sly deceit To lure the guileless sacrifice to a choking, fitful sleep Do the birds still sing in Riga and do children play their games? Does life go on though we have gone and is everything the same? The last train departed long ago, since then the soundless village sleeps But nature grieves, dew bends the leaves and the forlorn forest weeps This song and ‘The Black Shirt Tango’ were written for Peter Hammill. I heard he likes them, but I don’t know if he will record them.
Little Scarface
studio demo They call him little Scarface a sneer across his boat race. A pocket full of razor blades though he’s too young to shave Talking tough and dressing loud, he’s running with the wrong crowd. Hanging round the rough spots, killing time and playing slots. They call him little Scarface. His type is all too commonplace “That kind don’t care for anyone; just aching to be someone There’s something wrong with his sort, got a taste for blood sports,” ‘Could be cause he’s a war child grew up too fast and running wild A cut-price Little Caesar, a vicious little geezer. Bad blood in his veins, worms squirming in his brain A prince of the pool halls, arcades, fairs and pinball He’s branded with the mark of Cain. Could be the times are much to blame He’s got bad blood, poison in his veins. That kind is born to swing. He bears the mark of Cain That type’s got no class, he don’t know his place Someone’s sure to wipe that smirk right off his face He’s got bad blood, poison in his veins. That kind is born to swing. He bears the mark of Cain He thinks he’s a prince, a real Johnny Too Bad But he’s just a backstreet Jack The Lad Note: boat race is cockney rhyming slang for ‘face’. I had planned an album set in post war Britain and taking inspiration from Graham Greene’s novel ‘Brighton Rock’ and the Craig-Bentley case. Don’t know if I’ll get around to writing it with all the other projects I’m working on, but it would be very interesting and musically it would be something similar to The Who ‘A Quick One’, the Kinks and The Small Faces. ‘Little Scarface’ is the only completed song for this project .
Icarus
home demo I keep my eyes wide open As I fly towards the sun I don’t know if I’ll make it As the journey’s just begun My father said, “be cautious Now take things slowly, son And don’t you be a-flying Afore you can run.” Ever since I can remember He’s tried to hold me down But if I fall from heaven Who’s to say that I will drown? Me, I was impatient To spread my wings and fly But if I fall from heaven I could say that I had tried. I flirted with electronic pop on this one but added acoustic guitar and violin. I like this very much though it is untypical, or perhaps that’s the reason I like it.
The Lord Made A Woman
home demo The Lord made a woman on the seventh day He took Adam’s rib and a mess of clay He made her shapely and he made her sweet He made her so a man don’t get no sleep The Lord made a woman to raise a little Cain But first he made her drive her man insane Yeah he made her stubborn and headstrong too So she’s never satisfied what a good man do Lordy mama ain’t you heard the news A woman wants no loving just high heel shoes She wants to dress up so mighty fine I’ll never have enough for that woman of mine God made a woman for company But he didn’t make the right one for me When I get to that holy ground I hope there’s gonna be enough to go round 13 Women
home demo Slow down you move too fast I said slow down you moving way too fast Slow down mama I want to make this feeling last Mama don’t waste my time I tell you mama don’t you waste my time I got 13 women waiting in a line I got 13 women and all of them are mine Sweet love I got sweet love on my mind That kind of loving is so darn hard to find I’m going downtown switch blade in my hand I’d better not find my woman in the arms of another man Moses home demo Pharaoh reigned in Egypt land. He ruled with an iron hand Kept the slaves under his thumb till Moses said “your time has come” “Do your worst old man,” they sneered. Moses did far worse than they feared He summoned forth his wrathful Lord, formed a serpent from Pharaoh’s sword He summoned forth ten grievous plagues put pharaoh’s first born in his grave Cradle of Abraham
studio outtake They call this land where I was born the cradle of Abraham But it don’t mean nothing if you can’t raise corn in the cradle of Abraham They say you reap just what you sow but not down here that much I know Have faith my son, believe in me I made a lame man walk and a blind man see All that prayin’ don’t bring rain just one more day of sorrow and pain
The Wolfman’s On The Prowl
studio outtake Mama when you hear me howl you know the wolfman’s on the prowl Who’s been sneaking round your back door, who’s been sniffing round your back door? Don’t wanna see him round you no more When that one-eyed cat comes creeping by you know a good man’s gonna die Look what you’re lovin’ done to me you brought a grown man to his knees Mama didn’t raise no fool boy child, no mama didn’t raise no foolish child Gonna have to put you down for a while Don’t need a crystal ball to see you’re gonna bring nothing but grief to me Lord see the shape I’m in I guess I’ll have to pay for my sins |
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I reject songs for many different reasons, not all of them might be justified by others who can’t hear the ‘flaw’ that bugs me. Sometimes it’s the recording that fails to match the expectation I had, or the lyrics don’t please me. In the case of a number of the songs that appeared on this CD (given free with ‘The Devil’s Jukebox’ biography and later the ‘Selected Lyrics’ book) it was the fact that I couldn’t forget the fact that they had originated as home demos and that adding real drums in the studio wasn’t enough to convince me that these were ‘real’ recordings worthy of release. The first 7 which comprise the suite ‘Songs For A Sad Girl’ are also rather similar to each other dynamically and would need completely re-imagining and re-recording to justify their appearance on an album. I think they are ‘nice’ as demos, but no more. That said, I am pleased with the fact that I took the trouble to learn new chords (augmented and diminished chords that I would not use in a song) to create the brief intros and outros that detract from their simplicity and sameness.
