Nightcap:The Unreleased Masters 1973-1991 lyrics

[Instrumental]

[Instrumental]

[Instrumental]

The tiny ant leaves his tiny ant drops in the sand,
And makes his home inside a rusty watering can,
Occasionally going out to look for bread and jam.

He runs into a sparrow who hasn't eaten for a week,
And later, quite contented, the sparrow cleans his beak,
Failing to notice pussy cat has come out to take a leak.

Our cat partakes of dinner when a sodden kangaroo

The tiger flashes sharpened teeth.
Bowler-hatted; summer briefs
Beneath his pinstriped skin.

To kill demands a business sense;
Economy moves non-residence
Approaching from down-wind.

Being a tiger means you laugh
Whenever lesser tigers have
To eat meat that's infected.

Being a tiger means your mate
When overfed will defecate
In places least expected.

``Hello. This is `Law of the Bungle Part II'. By the way, I'm Martin
Barre; but sometimes I'm an owl, and my feathers are really smooth,
and when I feel romantic I like to dress up in men's clothing.''

[Instrumental]

The master playwright
Urges you to play right/play wrong;
Life is long and every night's the first night.

The wardrobe mistress
Urges you to dress left/dress right;
What a mess when your underpants are too tight.

Who's on the stage door
To help you find the way in/way out?
It's not a sin to be knowing that you don't know.

When you breathe your last line

Brain-storming, habit-forming, battle-warning weary winsome actor spewing
spineless chilling lines--
The critics falling over to tell themselves he's boring
And really not an awful lot of fun.

Well who the hell can he be when he's never had V.D.,
And he doesn't even sit on toilet seats?

Court-jesting, never-resting--he must be very cunning
To assume an air of dignity

Critic of the black and white
It's your first night.
The Passion Play gets in the way,
Spoils your insight.

Tell me how the baby's made,
How the lady's laid,
Why the old dogs howl with sadness.

The blue thing in the ball leaves naught but a bloody footprint on
the memory of last summer's trip to Europe

Did you buy a passport from the queen?

One two three Two

The editor lies screaming (begging in his working drink),
Questioning ``Who is God's favorite rock star this week?''
And will the front page pay [take?] him?

The deadline for the headline is the breadline.

In long years of ancient time, stood alone a friend of mine.
Reflected by the ever-burning sigh of a god who happened by.

And in the dawn, there came the song
Of some sweet lady singing in his ear.
Your god has gone, and from now on,
You'll have to learn to hate the things you fear.

We want to know, are we inside the womb?
Of passion plays, in thy righteousness consumed?

The actors milling helplessly--
The script is blowing out to sea.
But what the hell, we didn't even pass an audition.

The lines you'll have to improvise.
The words are written in the eyes
Of politicians who despise their fathers.

And so the play necessitates
That all you boys participate
In fierce competition to eliminate each other.

And groupies, on their way to war,

Did you learn your lines today?
Well, there is no rehearsal.
The tickets have all been sold
For tomorrow's matinee.

There's a telegram from the writer,
But there is no rehearsal.
The electrician has been told
To make the spotlights brighter.

There is one seat in the circle--
Five hundred million in the stalls.
Simply everyone will be there,
But the safety curtain falls

I'd like to take you
to the edge of every morning
On a magic eiderdown
To a window chair

In the Paradise Steakhouse
Where there's a cup of silver coffee
Steaming chrome reflections
From the mist in your hair

Try not to watch me (Try not to watch me)
Just call me after darkfall (Call me after darkfall)
I'll bring a whip to sow
My seed on your land

Would you like to see my lion
My friend Cecil is damp and smooth
A damp smooth sea lion
Yes, Cecil is a sea lion
(Cecil is a sea lion)

Cecil is a clever sea lion
Cecil sometimes swims
And often sits
(And balances multicolored striped balls?)
Yes, balances multicolored striped balls
Clever Cecil

(Cecil is a sea lion)

Cecil the sea lion is serene

Come running. Go for overkill.
If you don't come now, I'll be over the hill, all right?
Tell me, ``All right.''
Got a sell-by date. Soon be out of stock.
Pop me in your trolley you can start my clock. Well, all right?
Tell me, ``All right.''
I could be on your shelf, could be the risk you take.
I'm a cup of hot coffee, I'm a piece of cake.

I'm the hot chicken in your superstore.

[Instrumental]

I walked down that boulder road,
Through a child's eye saw places where I used to go.
Where I crawled barefoot with a fishing pole
to the rock that overlooked that steelhead hole
but it's true--silver river turning blue.

It was a small town in a smaller world.
Just a black dot on an old map with its edges curled.
Where they built their industries on the edge of town--

Tear it down in double quick time
To get the eighth truck shifted 'bout midnight
The locker rooms are empty but the [Strobo Tickers?][strobe boats?]
still spin with their pitching lights
And someone with a yellow pass
Gives out precise directions as to where and when

And here am I with a drumstick,
While young girls set to rendezvous, and be recognized again
Tomorrow is an off-day,

Young Gladys was a silky maiden
At thirteen, she was going strong, yeah.
Oh, Gladys.

Nicely filled out, fully laden,
But down below there was something wrong, yeah.
Oh, Gladys.

Nobody told her about the secrets
That ladies have to hide
Mom had no words to describe the things
That happened inside.
Need someone to help me,
I feel that there's a curse on me, oh.

She moves with machinery for the fancy sports car trade.
Part of the industrial process: she sees that they stay made.
She works from early A.M.. They work her to the bone.
When I call her in the evening, she's too tired to lift the phone.

Damned if I'll wait for her, and I'll be damned if I don't.
Damned if I only see that Rosa on the factory floor.

A small cigar can change the world
I know, I've done it frequently at parties
Where I've won all the guests' attention
With my generosity and suave gentlemanly bearing
A little flat tin case is all you need
Breast-pocket conversation opener
And one of those ciggie lighters that look rather good
You can throw away when empty
Must be declared a great success

One day he'll walk from out of this place.
You'll see a quiet determination on his face.
He'll toe no lines. Suffer no fools.
But he'll raise three cheers to the losing team
from the other school.
A little dedication. A little pair of daddy's shoes to fill.
Compleat education. One day he'll be a man of principle.

And the battle's on. And he'll play to win.

All right and honorable gentlemen
And lady, too
Will kindly try to restrain themselves
In derring-do

As verbal hard graffiti flies
And echoes wall to wall
Our precious model of democracy
It's the House of Commons brawl

One member from some dark mill town
Furious did cry
Spittle froth from folded chin
To dim the lie

Let's serve this brief and list the rush

I looked out of my window, saw a stencil black,

NO STEP. NO STEP.

There were nervous mothers with children crying in the back.

NO STEP. NO STEP.

Someone bought me my ticket, now I'm on the wing.

Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing?

NO STEP. NO STEP.

Those afterburners cut in and kicked us high.

NO STEP. NO STEP.

Your mother she protected you
And softened every blow
And brought you up to fear the worst
To be careful as you go

And the learned educators
With drip-feed [thrifty?] facts to fill
You up to here with reason
Well-meaning overkill

If you find yourself a-growing
to be old before your time
Get off the endless corridor
Set your soul out on the line

Drive on the young side of life

Got a grand house out in the country.
Marble pillars holding the door.
Empty bottles lining the wall from the night before.
Got a Roller out in the garage.
But the wheels are stuck to the floor.
Got no reason to go anywhere--no friends call anymore.
I don't want to be me, I don't want to be me,

I know it's hard to see, But I don't want to be me.
Had me playing down at the palace.

Dirty white caravans down our road, sailing.
Vivas, Cortinas, weaving in their wake.
With hot, red-faced drivers, horns flattened, fists whaling,
Putting trust in blind corners as they overtake.

And it's ``All come willing now,
Spend a shilling now,
Stack up the back of your new motor-car.''
There's home-dyed woolens, and wee plastic [Cuillins]

Last light's out
They're all abed
And something's in my room
Creeping down towards me on the wall

Daddy said it's just some flickering
headlight through the gloom
Making shapes through trees outside the hall

But what the hell does he know?
He doesn't feel the dread
The cold restricting terror in the dark

I've seen that silhouette before
Something the newsman said

Stopped off on a long drive.
Down from the high country.
Spent a long time sitting here,
Long time counting hot miles.
Ohh, oh I'd like a cup of black coffee and a piece of sweet cake.
But the girl in the print dress doesn't want my money--
she won't take it: she says--

Oh she says.
Oh she says I just know you're a Leo,
I can tell you've got a lion's heart.

Hard liner, she brings ice when I bring fire.
She's a hard liner.
Tightrope cross Niagara
She'd cut the wire
Never feel a thing.
Walked the sidewalk of another strange avenue.
Kicked my heels and wished my feet were in some other shoes.
But I'm not running from that hard liner.

Well she brings ice when I bring fire.
She's a real hard liner.
How does she retain my heart's desire?