Great songs with barmy lyrics

[Steve1956]

GENESIS, I know what I like from Selling England by the Pound
Peter Gabriel at his best.
It's one o'clock and time for lunch,
When the sun beats down and I lie on the bench
I can always hear them talk.

There's always been Ethel:
"Jacob, wake up! You've got to tidy your room now."
And then Mister Lewis:
"Isn't it time that he was out on his own?"
Over the garden wall, two little lovebirds - cuckoo to you!
Keep them mowing blades sharp...

I know what I like, and I like what I know;
getting better in your wardrobe, stepping one beyond your show.

Sunday night, Mr Farmer called, said:
"Listen son, you're wasting your time; there's a future for you
in the fire escape trade. Come up to town!"
But I remebered a voice from the past;
"Gambling only pays when you're winning"
- I had to thank old Miss Mort for schooling a failure.
Keep them mowing blades sharp...

I know what I like, and I like what I know;
getting better in your wardrobe, stepping one beyond your show.

When the sun beats down and I lie on the bench,
I can always hear them talk.
Me, I'm just a lawnmower - you can tell me by the way I walk

[SalisburyClaret]

GENESIS, I know what I like from Selling England by the Pound
Peter Gabriel at his best.
It's one o'clock and time for lunch,
When the sun beats down and I lie on the bench
I can always hear them talk.

There's always been Ethel:
"Jacob, wake up! You've got to tidy your room now."
And then Mister Lewis:
"Isn't it time that he was out on his own?"
Over the garden wall, two little lovebirds - cuckoo to you!
Keep them mowing blades sharp...

I know what I like, and I like what I know;
getting better in your wardrobe, stepping one beyond your show.

Sunday night, Mr Farmer called, said:
"Listen son, you're wasting your time; there's a future for you
in the fire escape trade. Come up to town!"
But I remebered a voice from the past;
"Gambling only pays when you're winning"
- I had to thank old Miss Mort for schooling a failure.
Keep them mowing blades sharp...

I know what I like, and I like what I know;
getting better in your wardrobe, stepping one beyond your show.

When the sun beats down and I lie on the bench,
I can always hear them talk.
Me, I'm just a lawnmower - you can tell me by the way I walk

The lyrics are based on the album cover painting - It doesn’t make it any clearer though!

[Steve1956]

The lyrics are based on the album cover painting - It doesn’t make it any clearer though!

For all its barmy lyrics it's still a great tune,I didn't know about the cover story..cheers for that.

[timshorts]

I'd rather good music with nonsense lyrics than clever lyrics with **** music. Half the time you can't tell what the lyrics are anyway. Some of the above is pretty indecipherable unless you've seen the lyric sheet.

Taking that a stage further:-
I'm sure that most people that go to opera don't know what that lot are saying in Italian and couldn't translate it if they did. So presumably they must either get off on the music or are just faking it.

There seems to be an awful lot of "music" that they have on in the cake shop that must be popular but has neither musical quality nor scintillating lyrics. And it's not just recent. How did house music happen, or bananarama?

[Royboyclaret]

We skipped the light fandango,
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor,
I was feeling kinda seasick,
But the crowd called out for more.
The room was humming harder,
As the ceiling flew away,
When we called out for another drink,
The waiter brought a tray.

And so it was that later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.

No, not Pstotto, it's Procul Harum at their very best.

[Silkyskills1]

We skipped the light fandango,
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor,
I was feeling kinda seasick,
But the crowd called out for more.
The room was humming harder,
As the ceiling flew away,
When we called out for another drink,
The waiter brought a tray.

And so it was that later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.

No, not Pstotto, it's Procul Harum at their very best.

Listened to a lot of Procol Harum from mid 67. Gary Brooker's voice just got better with time and Matt Fisher was exemplary on Hammond organ. Pity they didn't get on.
Anyway, Procol Harum followed up their Summer hit of 67 in the autumn with Homburg and the lyrics didn't get any clearer.
The town clock in the market square
Stands waiting for the hour
It's hands they both move backwards and on meeting will devour
Both themselves and also any fool who dares to tell the time
And the sun and moon will shatter
And the signposts cease to sign
Your trouser cuffs are dirty
And your shoes are laced up.wrong
You'd better take off your homburg
Cos your overcoat is too long.

[depechedingle]

I was walking round my local store,
searching for the 10 pence off Lenor,
when suddenly I bumped into this guy,
on seeing who it was I gave a cry,
@##%ing hell, it's Fred Titmus!!!!

[Aclaret]

What's the matter you eh
Gotta no respect
Oh shut up a ya face......or am I on the wrong thread.

[ClaretTony]

We skipped the light fandango,
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor,
I was feeling kinda seasick,
But the crowd called out for more.
The room was humming harder,
As the ceiling flew away,
When we called out for another drink,
The waiter brought a tray.

And so it was that later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.

No, not Pstotto, it's Procul Harum at their very best.

I love the last line there Royboyclaret

[Silkyskills1]

I was walking round my local store,
searching for the 10 pence off Lenor,
when suddenly I bumped into this guy,
on seeing who it was I gave a cry,
@##%ing hell, it's Fred Titmus!!!!

Half man Half biscuit. Quality.

[1968claret]

Surfs up by Brian Wilson. Fantastic song but the lyrics are out there. Then again he was taking all sorts at the time he wrote this

A diamond necklace played the pawn
Hand in hand some drummed along, oh
To a handsome mannered baton

A blind class aristocracy
Back through the opera glass you see
The pit and the pendulum drawn

Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping?

Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn


The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumpeter swan

[CHEWBACCA]

Son of My Father by Chicory Tip always confused me-

Mama said to me we gotta have your life run right
Off you got to school where you can learn the rules there right
Be just like your dad lad
Follow in the same tradition
Never go astray and stay an honest lovin' son
Son of my father
Molded, I was folded, I was preform-packed
Son of my father
Commanded, I was branded in a plastic vac'
Surrounded and confounded by statistic facts
Tried to let me in but I jumped out of my skin in time
I saw through the lies and read the alibi signs
So I left my home I'm really on my own at last
Left the trodden path and separated from the past
Son of my father
Changing, rearranging into someone new
Son of my father
Collecting and selecting independent views
Knowing and I'm showing that a change is due.
Son of my father
Molded, I was folded, I was preform-packed
Son of my father
Commanded, I was branded in a plastic vac'
Surrounded and confounded by statistic facts

[Steve1956]

I love Elvis Costello to bits...but this is pretty barmy.
Photographs of fancy tricks to get your kicks at sixty-six
He thinks of all the lips that he licks
And all the girls that he's going to fix
She gave a little flirt, gave herself a little cuddle
But there's no place here for the mini-skirt waddle
Capital punishment, she's last year's model
They call her Natasha when she looks like Elsie
I don't want to go to Chelsea

Oh, no, it does not move me
Even though I've seen the movie
I don't want to check your pulse
I don't want nobody else
I don't want to go to Chelsea

Everybody's got new orders
Be a nice girl and kiss the warders
Now the teacher is away
All the kids begin to play

Men come screaming, dressed in white coats
Shake you very gently by the throat
One's named Gus, one's named Alfie
I don't want to go to Chelsea

Oh, no, it does not move me
Even though I've seen the movie
I don't want to check your pulse
I don't want nobody else
I don't want to go to Chelsea

Photographs of fancy tricks to get your kicks at sixty-six
He thinks of all the lips that he licks
And all the girls that he's going to fix
She gave a little flirt, gave herself a little cuddle
But there's no place here for the mini-skirt waddle
Capital punishment, she's last year's model
They call her Natasha when she looks like Elsie
I don't want to go to Chelsea

Oh, no, it does not move me
Even though I've seen the movie
I don't want to check your pulse
I don't want nobody else
I don't want to go to Chelsea