Muswell Hillbillies lyrics

Never been anywhere south of the delaware
Never been through kalamazu
Never been to timbuktu

Living is fantasy, traveling mentally
Making up tunes in hotel rooms
’bout places I’ve never been to

Though I’ve never crooned under a kentucky moon

I had my dream, kentucky moon
But it’s only moon dreams
From songs, films and tv

They lived together in a dirty old shack
At the edge of the black rocky mountain
And they drank mountain dew and they lived on the food
That they grew at the side of the mountain

She’s a mountain woman, he’s her mountain man
They [? ] down the valley
She’s a mountain woman, he’s her mountain man
Uneducated but they’re happy

They took my baby, to Holloway jail,
They took my baby, down Holloway jail,
She was a lady, when she went in,
Now she's in jail, and it's giving me hell.

She was succeeding in the city,
She was just beginning to excel,
Then a spiv named Frankie Simes
Led her to a life of crime,
And led her on the downward trail.

Frankie came home late from work one evening,

He was just a workin' man,
Simple rules and simple plans,
Fancy words he didn't understand,
He loved with his heart,
He worked with his hands.

Liberals dream of equal rights,
Conservatives live in a world gone by,
Socialists preach of a promised land,
But old uncle son, was an ordinary man.

Bless you uncle son,
They won't forget you, when the revolution comes.

Fat Flabby Annie was incredibly big
She weighed just about sixteen stone
And then a fake dietician went and put her on a diet
Now she looks like skin and bone.
Do the meditation and yoga
And she's thrown away the good food guide
And she's given up the alcohol and pizzas
And the pies and now she looks as if she's ready to die,
You can't see her walk by.

Don't eat no mashed potatoes,

All life we work but work is bore,
If life's for livin' what's livin' for,
She lives in a house that's near decay,
Built for the industrial revolution,
But in her dreams she is far away,
In Oklahoma U.S.A.
With Shirley Jones and Gordon McRea,
As she buys her paper at the corner shop,
She's walkin' on the surrey with the fringe on top,
Cos in her dreams she is far away,

Well I said goodbye to Rosie Rooke this morning,
I'm gonna miss her bloodshot alcoholic eyes,
She wore her Sunday hat so she'd impress me,
I'm gonna carry her memory 'til the day I die.

They'll move me up to Muswell Hill tomorrow,
Photographs and souvenirs are all I've got,
They're gonna try and make me change my way of living,
But they'll never make me something that I'm not.

Holiday,
Oh what a lovely day today,
I'm so glad they sent me away,
To have a little holiday today, holiday,
Holiday,
And I'm just standing on the end of a pier,
Hoping and dreaming you were here,
To share my little holiday,

Lookin' in the sky, for a gap in the clouds,
Sometimes I think that sun ain't never coming out,
But I'd rather be here than in that dirty old town,

I got a letter this morning with serious news that's gone and ruined my day,
The borough surveyor's used compulsory purchase to acquire my domaine,
They're gonna pull up the floors, they're gonna knock down the walls,
They're gonna dig up the drains.

Here come the people in grey they're gonna take me away to Lord knows where,

Granny's always ravin' and rantin'
And she's always puffin' and pantin',
And she's always screaming and shouting,
And she's always brewing up tea.

Grandpappy's never late for his dinner,
Cos he loves his leg of beef
And he washes it down with a brandy,
And a fresh made cup of tea.

Chorus:
Have a cuppa tea, have a cuppa tea,
have a cuppa tea, have a cuppa tea,

Well I woke this morning with a pain in my neck,
A pain in my heart and a pain in my chest,
I went to the good doctor and the good doctor said,
You gotta slow down your life or you're gonna be dead,
Cut out the struggle and strife,
It only complicates your life.

Well I cut down women I cut out booze,
I stopped ironing my shirts, cleaning my shoes,

Here is a story about a sinner,
He used to be a winner who enjoyed a life of prominence and position,
But the pressures at the office and his socialite engagements,
And his selfish wife's fanatical ambition,
It turned him to the booze,
And he got mixed up with a floosie
And she led him to a life of indecision.
The floosie made him spend his dole
She left him lying on Skid Row

I'm too terrified to walk out of my own front door,
They're demonstrating outside I think they're gonna start the third world war,
I've been to my local head shrinker,
To help classify my disease,
He said it's one of the cases of acute schizophrenia he sees.

Well the milkman's a spy, and the grocer keeps on following me,
And the woman next door's an undercover for the K.G.B.,

This is the age of machinery,
A mechanical nightmare,
The wonderful world of technology,
Napalm hydrogen bombs biological warfare,

This is the twentieth century,
But too much aggravation
It's the age of insanity,
What has become of the green pleasant fields of Jerusalem.

Ain't got no ambition, I'm just disillusioned
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't wanna be here.