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LYRICS

 

Applecross
 
 
Morning comes, the baby whale
Is long and thin, and grey and pale
When you feel a sense of loss
Take yourself to Applecross
 
Applecross is in your mind
Fix your eyes and drive you blind
Applecross is cool and sweet
Wipe your tears and bathe your feet
 
Applecross is everywhere
Over the mountains in your hair
But when you're overcome with fright
Applecross can put you right
 
Applecross can do no harm
Fill you with the ocean's calm
When the world spits on your face
Applecross is just the place
 
Copyright Andy Roberts - Sanah Music Ltd
 
. from ...
HOME GROWN
1970
. . . . . . . . . .

 

Moths & Lizards in Detroit
 
Awake alone America I'm naked in your bed
The television's left me now with nothing for my head
A bunch of grapes in either hand as one by one they fall
I'm overfilling ashtrays now and wishing that you'd call
 
At five o'clock the day begins at six o'clock it ends
With troubled sounds from blackened trees it takes more than it lends
Blisters on a ravaged hand he guards his shattered flocks
You know seven hundred miles can seem like 6 or 7 blocks
 
I can't forget the midnight face that watched my closing eyes
For satisfaction guaranteed was promised in your sighs
I tried to kill the insects that you taught how to crawl
But moths and lizards in Detroit are wishing that you'd call

 

Copyright Andy Roberts - Sanah Music Ltd
 
. from ...
HOME GROWN
1970
.. . . . . . . . . .
 
Queen of the Moonlight World
 
Rise from your bed
And come down
Into
The moonlight world
 
Someone whose head
Is cool waits
for you
In the moonlight world
 
She's in the dark
Tall and quite
Alone
In the moonlight world
 
Go to the park
Follow your path
Back home
To the moonlight world
 
She's the queen of, queen of the moonlight world
Moonlight world
 
Keep yourself aloof if you can - she says she wants you
Hold your eyes away from hers - because she wants you
If your mind receives her cry you'll want to love her
Meet her body and you'll try to love her
 
Rise from your bed
And come down
Into
The moonlight world
 
Someone whose head
Is cool waits
For you
In the moonlight world
She's the queen of, queen of the moonlight world

Copyright Andy Roberts - Sanah Music Ltd
 
. from ...
HOME GROWN
1970
.. . . . . . . . . .
 
Home Grown
 
Can you see this cigarette hanging in my mouth
Someone gave it to me when I was playing in the south
He told me of its contents said it contained appleseed
I don't rightly know but I know it's what I need
Because its home grown
home grown
home grown
 
Sweet Polly Purebred clear my mental fog
Ever since I met you I want to know if it's me or Underdog
Just let me know where I stand and I'll travel down the street
Singing the tune you taught me to everyone I meet
Because its home grown
home grown
home grown
 
New Jersey Turnpike where is your soul
I asked you for your tress not your telegraph pole
You tell me your wires fly higher than high
But I just dig your green leaves and here's the reason why
Because they're home grown
home grown
home grown
 
Casey won't you sing that song fill my mind with peace
Trace the words along again about I shall be released
What in the world is any one worth that's living without hope
You can treat me like the dog-faced man and treat me like a dope
But I know I'm home grown
home grown
home grown
 
Copyright Andy Roberts - Sanah Music Ltd
 
. from ...
HOME GROWN
1970
.. . . . . . . . . .
 
Urban Cowboy
 
Won't you pity the urban cowboy as he walks so cool and slow
He'd really like to act his age, but his age was long ago
Make up your mind, and take that plane, you could be with him today
There's too much time to say it in, and nothing left to say
 
Dream on, lonely cowboy
Too sad to make the change
For the laughing, bright-eyed city girls
Will keep you from the range
 
For a long sometime before you he loved another well
But the lady's gone away now - where she is there's few can tell
And the man with all the answers waits alone for you to come
He sits and feeds upon his dreams, and he'll surely save you some
 
Dream on, lonely cowboy
Too sad to make the change
For the laughing, bright-eyed city girls
Will keep you from the range
 
Into the urban sunset, the urban cowboy strolls
A nameless, fading memory, as the final credits roll
His mind is on the longhorns though he walks a city street
And you're not there to see him brush the traildust from his feet
 
Dream on, lonely cowboy
Too sad to make the change
For the laughing, bright-eyed city girls
Will keep you from the range
 
Copyright Andy Roberts - Libra Music
 
. from ...
URBAN COWBOY
1973
. &
AND THAT'S THAT
1992
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Ten Feet Tall and Bulletproof

There I was, sittin’ by the back door
Mouth full of Cannonball or Chattanooga Chew
When ‘long come a Cadillac, kickin’ up a dust storm
And shakin’ up the jars of good home brew
There was Virgil and Billy Bob, Emery and Jethro
Orville and Willard, and Jimmy Lee too
All come around with a trunk full of Lightnin’
To add a stack o’ points onto my I.Q.
10 feet tall and bulletproof
Half a jar will get you
10 feet tall and bulletproof
That’s what the old folks say
We all sat around in the dark of the evenin’
Eatin’ up cornchips, and pullin’ at the jar
Talkin’ ‘bout the President, politics and ballgames
When on down the road come a police car
I was scared as a cat in a roomful of rockin’ chairs
I didn’t know what the hell was goin’ on
Everybody runnin’, hidin’ in my woodpile
Seven of ‘em heapin’ all the crap on one
10 feet tall and bulletproof
Half a jar had gotten us
10 feet tall and bulletproof
That’s what the old folks say
I smiled at the man and I said “ Y’all welcome
To finish up the jars and everything,
But if we’re gonna take a trip to the city
Come on, I’ll drive – I’m too drunk to sing”
10 feet tall and bulletproof
Half a jar will get you
10 feet tall and bulletproof
That’s what the old folks say

 

Copyright Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Gig Song


Three lanes wide and a hundred miles long
And nothing to do but sing my song
Got to pack my guitar, I’d like to stay
But I’ve got another gig down the motorway
For the motorway has become my wife
I’ve got to go down the motorway, where I spend my life
The road is red, the road is brown
Tomorrow I’m in another town
Plenty of girls want the guitar man
But he packs up his gear, gets in the van
For the motorway has become his wife
He’s got to go down the motorway, where he spends his life
Travelling man just sing these lines
You’ve got no home and got no time
Playing your axe is all you know
Look at your watch, it’s time to go
For the motorway has become your wife
You’ve got to go down the motorway, where you spend your life

 

Copyright Andy Roberts
from ...
HOME GROWN
1971
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Songs of the Stars


Through the years we’d been married I promised I loved you
But the lure of the highway was changing my mind
For ruby lips and dark eyes had put my mind in a whirlwind
And that morning was diff’rent, I had left you behind
I pulled in the truck-stop, stood on the air-brakes
Shut off the motor, climbed down from my seat
And feeling so sure I strode into the diner
And there qas the girl I had promised to meet
We sat drinking coffee and planning our future
While the juke-box was playing a sweet country song
I glanced at the girl I had left you to be with
And she could tell by my face that I knew I’d been wrong
For I heard Tammy Wynette singing Almost Persuaded
The Hank and the Cowboys played Ramblin Man
And the songs of the stars filled my head with their message
"Don’t cheat on your loved ones, go home while you can"
And it’s thanks to Hank Williams
Hank Snow and his band
Tammy, Roy Nicholls and Merle
With your fiddles and your guitars
And your songs on the juke-box
Your country sounds brought me back to my girl
I headed for home driving quicker than lightning
As my diesel was humming its own highway songs
And when I held you that night I knew it was for ever
I’d come back to your truck stop where my heart belongs
And it’s thanks to Hank Williams
Hank Snow and his band
Tammy, Glen Sherley and Merle
With your fiddles and your guitars
And your songs on the juke-box
Your country sounds brought me back to my girl

 

Copyright Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Clowns on the Road


I went off to play with a rock 'n' roll band
For a month in a travelling show
I couldn't tell what the end would be
But I thought 'what a gas to go'
It was thirty days on the road again
And I was really out of form
But for those lonely nights in the back of a bus
As it was blowing up half a storm.
And a strange light glowed
Every night as we played the show
And you made it good to be back home
From a month with clowns on the road.
 
It propelled me straight into a figure of eight
To be aboard that ship of fools
With a deck of cards and a box guitar
And without a book of rules
What a crazy time there was of music and rhyme
There was a tour getting under way
Every night we'd arrive to set the stage
And then for three or four hours we'd play.
And that strange light glowed
As the sun shone and as it snowed
And you made it good to be back home
From a month with clowns on the road.
 
As the time wore on without you
Like a chime without a bell
Might after night I would wander back
To sleep alone in a cheap hotel
But the days were full of laughter
And better times in store
With clowns on the road making good times roll
And people wanting more . . .
 
Introducing the king of lyric and swing
And the prince of rhythm 'n' booze
They had a number in the making
If they could only find the clues
And I tell you no lie it gave a natural high
Just knowing that you were there
With a loving smile at the end of the ride
And a flower in your hair.
And that strange light glowed
Every night as we played the show
And you made it good to be back home
From a month with clowns on the road.
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Ricochet


So many things I want to say,
Enter this song as exhibit A,
I missed you when I came to play,
But I got hit by your ricochet
Love is good, it's here to stay,
Tender lover turn night to day..
A simple song, a lullaby
Pick me up and help me fly
A sugar heart and a humble pie,
Are two things in short supply,
A broken word's no alibi,
It doesn't show to the naked eye,
A broken word's no alibi
It doesn't show to the naked eye...
So many things I want to say,
Enter this song as exhibit A...

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts - Burdock River Music
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Valley got a new dog


Valley got a new dog, true dog, top dog,
Valley got a new dog,
Valley got a new dog, shiny coming through dog,
Valley got a new dog...
Valley got a new dog, old dog, blue dog,
Valley got a new dog,
Valley got a new dog, don't know what to do dog,
Valley got a new dog..
New dog looks the part,
With his artificial heart
He shoots a pointless dart...
Valley got a new dog, show dog, fun dog,
Valley got a new dog,
Valley got a new dog, barrel of a gun dog,
Valley got a new dog...
New dog takes the stage
New dog's all the rage,
Old dog feels his age...
You can have a new dog, bird dog, sang dog,
You can have a new dog,
You can have a new dog, old dog, hang dog,
You can have a new dog...
You can have a new dog, you can have a new dog,
You can have a new dog...
You can have a new dog, you can have a new dog,
You can have a new dog...
You can have a new dog, you can have a new dog,
You can have a new dog...
You can have a new dog, you can have a new dog,
You can have a new dog...
.. . . . . . . . . .
 
The one-armed boatman and the giant squid


The one-armed boatman with the one right hand
Had lived all his life on the golden sand
Let me tell you 'bout the things they did
The one-armed boatman and the giant squid
He took both oars in his big right fist
And pulled away in the morning mist
Cutting the water in a dead straight line
Leaving the golden sand behind
The sea beneath him and the sun so high
He aimed for the place where the sea meets the sky
Standing all the time he never tired
And the sun grew lower and the sea grew higher
Then far away from where the seagulls call
Sea met sky and formed a wall
But he was not afraid when from the water slid
The fearsome shape of a giant squid
His head and body were coloured like oil
And as he rose the ocean boiled
But from the squid there came a silken sound
That calmed the sea for miles around
"Boatman boatman do not pause
Your presence here demands a cause
You see me here beneath the brine
I am you father you are mine
Your mother was an albatross
Sweeping wings to form a cross
We lay together on a bed of foam
And you were born to a sandy home
Put out your hand and take this potion
Newly formed beneath the ocean
And drink to your parents of the sea
And sing this sad refrain for me
For in the morning the sky was bluer
But the girl that I slept with was just a pure"
The one-armed boatman with the one right hand
Had lived all his life on the golden sand
But when he knew his hand it burned
And the one-armed boatman never returned

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts - Cloud Cookoo Songs Limited 
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Sweet Amelia (Cloud Nine)

I saw your picture in the news today
i don't understand what they're trying to say
the plain fact is you're not coming home
so why in the world don't they leave you alone
Oh sweet amelia

all these years on the same clouds nine
Well the word is out that you're still alive
there's all this talk that you could have survived
they're acting as though we might see you again
they know no more now then they did back then
You're fine when you're on cloud nine
all these years on your own cloud nine
I don't believe it and i'm not impressed
i wish to god that they'd lay you to rest
now they're saying yhey found a piece of your shoe
what they really mean is that they haven't a clue
Oh sweet amelia
you're fine on your own cloud nine
oh sweet amelia
fifty -five years on your own cloud nine
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Keep My Children Warm
 
Don't want to tie you down
Make you lonely in the crowd
But it's good when you're around
And I can call your name out loud
I'm standing on the station
And I wave as you ride by
It took so long to find out that this song's between us
If you look across the station
There are eagles in the sky
You'd better close your window if you think they've seen us
Don't want to change your mind
You know I'm with you thru' your storm
Will you do this thing for me
Please keep my children warm
And everyone but you and me
Lies easy in their beds
If only I could move without you waking
Sleep until your dream has ended
Quiet in your head
And the room is filled with colours as the dawn is breaking
 
Copyright: Andy Roberts
 
NINA & THE DREAM TREE
Andy: vocals, guitars
Dave Richards: bass guitar, piano, back-up vocals
Ray Warleigh: alto sax
Charlene Collins: back-up vocals
Carol Grimes: back-up vocals
. . . . . . . . . .
 
The Raven


The raven on the roof closed one eye
Preened himself against the sky
Picked his with a crooked claw
And settled down to wait once more
In the house beneath the family sat
Tossing goldfish to the cat
TV dinners on their knee
And forty-nine lights on the Xmas tree
Father’s made a lot of bread
"Someone’s got to make guns" father said
"We know it’s all right and there’s the proof"
"Our house has got a raven on the roof"
"The next door neighbours, there are a joke"
"They cultivate a garden which they smoke"
"And send their kids to the local schools"
"They must be growing up a bunch of fools"
"The next door neighbours haven’t a cent"
"We own our house but they pay rent"
"Property owners should remain aloof"
"Especially when they’ve got a raven on their roof"
When father was fifty he fell ill
Mother puts the crumbs on the window-sill
Like she usually did, but he died in pain
And they found he had a raven in his brain

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Bottom of the Garden


When the Third World War is starting I suppose they’ll let us know
There’ll be adverts in the papers saying where we have to go
But just in case we can’t avoid the fighting and the fuss
I will bury my guitar at the bottom of the garden
Before it reaches us
I will fight for Queen and Country like they taught us to in school
I’ll just stand there pulling faces so they’ll know I’m mean abd cruel
And when the tanks come rolling down our road and they’re aiming at out heads
I will bury my guitars at the bottom of the garden
To keep them from the reds
And if they happen to beat us
I’ll be a bit upset
They’d better be warned that a thing like that’s
Not easy to forget
But once the war is over
We’ll see what the future brings
And I’ll get by unless they try
To put rationing
On strings
Still let’s look on the bright side, you needn’t wear a frown
They may not even bother us here ‘cos we’re fifteen miles from town
And even if they come up North they’ll treat us kind
But I’ll still keep a hole at the bottom of the garden
In case they change their mind

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .
 
All Around My Grandmothers Floor


Alice left wonderland just yesterday
I know it was her 'cause I saw her today
She looked like the picture in books that I saw
All around my grandmother's floor
Her skin's like the china, the colour of peach
High on the shelf where I couldn't reach
That rung like the bells which hung in the hall
All around my grandmother's wall
Faded brown photos of children with dogs
Victoria's funeral, and woodsmen on logs
The bold waxed moustaches of soldiers so tall
All around my grandmother's wall
I remember the jigsaws of countries and kings
Constable landscapes, and marvellous things
Sights of the world and knights off to war
All around my grandmother's door
She still wears the dress bordered with lace
Wonderland wonder in her looking-glass face
Just like the pictures in books that I saw
All around my grandmother's floor

 

Andy Roberts & Mike Evans
Cloud Cuckoo Music
. from ...
URBAN COWBOY - 1973
Andy: vocals, acoustic guitars, dulcimer
Dave Richards: bass guitar, electric piano, back-up vocals
Iain Matthews: back-up vocals
 
and ...
AND THAT'S THAT - (1972) released 1992
Andy: acoustic guitars, dulcimer, vocals
Iain Matthews: acoustic guitar, percussion, vocals
Dave Richards: bass guitar, piano, back-up vocals
. . . . . . . . . . .
 
Percy Parslows Hamster Farm


On Percy Parslow's Hamster Farm
The sympathetic hamster man
Creates a world of gentle calm
Try and find it if you can
 
The Lantern cafe were we ate
A telephone in a London bus
The fact we are an hour late
Does not worry him or us
 
We meet him then, and as he talks
A dovecot full of fantail doves
Bustles above a captive hawk
Proximity of hate and love
 
Take the hamster man's advice
And never stroke the spiney mice
A mynah bird in a lofty cage
Speaks not a word in silent rage
 
Old ladies in Chinchilla coats
Come down to see the little farm
And say, amongst the dogs and goats
"How can man do small creatures harm?"
 
"Do you like flowers," asks the man
"Then come with me and look at mine"
"See over there the people live"
"In mushrooms by the railway line"
 
The day is ending, nights unfurled
It's time to go it's getting late
We hate to leave this other world
To shut behind us like a gate
 
On Percy Parslow's Hamster Farm
The sympathetic hamster man
Creates a world of gentle calm
Try and find it if you can
 
Copyright: Andy Roberts
 
. from ...
THE AMAZING ADVENTURE OF...
1969
Andy Roberts: Vocal, Guitar
Adrian Henri: Poet
Mike Evans: Poet, tenor Saxaphone
Mike Hart: Vocal, Guitar
Percy Jones: Bass
Brian Dodson: Drums
. . . . . . . . . .
 
Bluebird Morning


Light me no lights
No storm today
Pray me no prayers
There's no time to pray
Bring me no charms
It's true what they say
I'm gonna miss you
when I'm on the road, my eyes half closed
Another bluebird morning
Once wrote a song about a home in the sun
Finding a shelter where I thought there was none
You ask me my meaning and I give you just one
It's that I'll miss you
when I'm on the road, my eyes half closed
Another bluebird morning
It's leaving time
You know I hate to leave
And all the things we are together
A pucking at my sleeve
You still put me down for those things I believe
But I'll miss you
when I'm on the road, my eyes half closed
Another bluebird morning
I'll miss you
when I'm on the road, my eyes half closed
Another bluebird morning

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .

Living In The Hills Of Zion


Road to Cascade, sharpest stones,
Didn't know what we'd find there.
High on the hilltop, Booli's house,
Ganja blowing your mind there
"Good to meet you, welcome all,"
Rastaman comes walking.
Rags on his back and a bamboo house
Smoking soon, then talking.
Rasta Rasta, Selassie High,
Power to the Lion.
Rasta Rasta, the fullest heights,
Living in the hills of Zion.
Down the path to the meeting place,
Mango ripe to bursting,
Dougie and Steve by the almond tree
With coconut milk for thirsting
Eight foot redtop behind the door
Show me where they growing.
Sitting in the twilight, changing thoughts,
Soon we must be going
Rasta Rasta, Selassie High,
Power to the Lion.
Rasta Rasta, the fullest heights,
Living in the hills of Zion.
Back down the goat-track, ten man band
See the sunset sights, man.
Sad to leave the rasta folk
When you've felt the fullest heights, man
Rasta Rasta, Selassie High,
Power to the Lion.
Rasta Rasta, the fullest heights,
Living in the hills of Zion.
Rasta Rasta, Selassie High,
Power to the Lion.
Rasta Rasta, the fullest heights,
Living in the hills of Zion.

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .
 
You're A Machine


What is it that makes a man so dog-tired,
Living in a house that's oil-fired,
With his 14-year-old daughter who's much admired
And an idiot son at a public school?
It's not much to ask him to beg your pardon
For burning his wife in your front garden,
Just because she lost his Union card
And he happened to lose his cool
And do you care, don't you know
Where the sulphur winds go,
When they blow right through you,
Do you know?
Don't you know, do you care
That it's in your hair
And to wash it clean
You need a machine?
You're a machine.
Never ask a stranger for a big pink sweet,
Not even the policeman who's on his beat
But just keep your eyes fixed on his feet
And shift if he lifts an eyebrow
Don't wait around for a fresh-faced lad
To show you the goods and make you sad
But go straight home, baby, to your dad
And make sure he knows who sent you
And do you care, don't you know
Where the sulphur winds go,
When they blow right through you,
Do you know?
Don't you know, do you care
That it's in your hair
And to wash it clean
You need a machine?
You're a machine.
Business executive on his perch,
Left his girl-friend in the lurch,
Couldn't face himself if he entered the church
And saw the cross in the mirror, mirror
Don't think I want you, like you, need you,
See right through you, open and read you.
Don't forget that I'll always feed you
When you say you're feeling hungry
And do you care, don't you know
Where the sulphur winds go,
When they blow right through you,
Do you know?
Don't you know, do you care
That it's in your hair
And to wash it clean
You need a machine?
You're a machine.

 

Copyright: Andy Roberts
. . . . . . . . . .