Lyrics of the Songs on the Big Al Whittle Album
St Peter and John Dillinger
TITLES
1)
St
Peter and John Dillinger
2)
George
Joseph Smith
3)
Haiku
Song
4)
Trish
5)
Grammar
School Puppy Dog
6)
The
Big red Sausage
7)
The
Owl Song
8)
I
love it when you sing the blues
9)
Telephone
Song
10)
If
You Love Somebody
11)
Well
Done Liz
12)
The
Box of Music
13)
There
is a land called America
14)
Swimming
Pool
15)
Dink
Tribute
16)
Ciderhead
Blues
These are the songs which I wrote and felt I had the right
to reproduce the lyrics. Also on the album is Down and Out Blues - song whose authorship seems to be the subject of dispute. The
Apartment Song by Roger Brooks and a medley of Winding Boy (written by Jelly Roll Morton) and Pretty Baby (written by Tony
Jackson).
St Peter and John Dillinger
Spoken Preamble:
It was a hot July night, 1934.....
When the gates of Paradise suddenly flung open,
And there.....
standing before his maker,
Was the famous American bank robber and outlaw....... Jo-ohn Dillinger.
Only a few minutes
before
John Dillinger had been walking down a Chicago
alleyway.
Down off Lincoln Avenue
When he had been
ambushed
Shot to death by Federal agents
Now from his
poor broken body -
Rose the immortal soul of John Herbert Dillinger
Transfigured
and radiant,
Clothed in heavenly
rainment,
But still carrying
a tommy gun -
And looking like-a one mean dude.....
Hoosier? asked St Peter
John Dillinger said, that’s me
I’m from Mooresville, Indiana
In the land of the brave and free
Old Man, look down from these lofty clouds
To shy town, Illinois
You’ll see ‘kerchiefs dipped in my life blood
Such a blessed man was I
Hoosier? asked St Peter
Dillinger said, it’s what you heard me say
I’m from Mooresville, Indiana
In the good old US of A
And if you kneel down for forgiveness
I might forgive you all God’s
sins
All those years in America
When the working man couldn’t win
St Peter said, You tryin’ to pull somethin’ Johnnie Dillinger,
pretendin’ that you’re some kind of saint
You know it takes one of those to know one,
cos I’m one and you sure ain’t
Well hold it, said Johnnie I was surrounded by enemies like our Lord,
Oh shot down and left to die,
By J Edgar Hoover’s dirty dogs, the men they call the FBI
Well time don’t mean a deal round here Johnny, said St Peter,
Fact is, J Edgar Hoovers already here
I gave a him a job. just yesterday, as an angel - look!
he’s dancing on a cloud over there.
Seeing as you know him
so well...... you could be a sort of double act, right?
Two Johns dancing on a cloud together, just spreading
pure sweetness and light
Yeh,dancing on a cloud with J Edgar Hoover, jest spreading pure sweetness and light
You made J Edgar Hoover an angel, now you shoulda seen
John Dillinger’s
dis-tress
St Peter said, hey man...you know I couldn’t stop him.....!
Got real excited when he was tryin’ on the dress
Round here you’d be like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, put on a te-rrific show
You’ll have an eternity to practice.... that’s when Dillinger thundered No!
He said, Hey!
I’m Dillinger the Bank Robber, and I don’t like to brag
But its not my idea of heaven, up on a cloud with some old fag
And you can’t make me, but St Peter said, I think
you’ll find I can
And who said anything about heaven for you, you naughty naughty man.
So brothers and sisters now listen and pay the good book mind
Damnation comes in lots of ways, and shapes and forms and kinds
Don’t rob banks, or fire tommy guns from the running board of a car
Or you could end up like Poor Johnny Dillinger dancing with your bête noire
Hoosier? asked St Peter
John Dillinger said, that’s me
I’m from Mooresville, Indiana
In the land of the brave and free
But if you look down from these lofty clouds
To shy town, Illinois
You’ll see ‘kerchiefs dipped in my life blood
Such a blessed man was I
© Alan Whittle 12/02/2005 18:10:52
George Joseph Smith
Well my name is George Joseph Smith
And i’m the bloke for you to take up with
Oh yes i will make you me wife
As soon as I’ve insured your life
Then I’ll drown you in the bath
Drown you in the bath
Drown you in the bath
Cos I’m a psychopath
Now some people think I’m not the norm
Cos I like filling in insurance forms
It isn’t that I like to kill
But filling in forms gives me a thrill
Then I drown ‘em in the bath
Drown ‘em in the bath
Drown ‘em in the bath
Cos I’m a psychopath
Now the most moving thing wot I ever heard
Was my good lady wife’s dyin’ words
As I yanked her into the tub
She softly murmured, “Glub, glub, glub, glub.....”
Yeh I drowned her in the bath
Drowned her in the bath
Drowned her in the bath
Cos I’m a psychopath
So in my prison cell I sit
Well and truly in the......deepest trouble imaginable
But before I go to meet my end
I still think I could recommend!
Drowning in the bath
Drowning in the bath
Drowning in the bath
If you’re a psychopath
Haiku Song
Oh my love the snow is falling
And its Winter in my heart
We spent so much of time together
I hardly knew we were apart
Oh my my love the snow is falling
Not a bird up in the sky
All creatures look for warmth and comfort
So don’t be shamed and don’t you cry
One day soon it will be springtime
The trees will toss their leaves with pride
And you’ll be walking in the sunshine
With a new love at your side
Oh my love the snow is falling
And its Winter in my heart
We spent so much of time together
I hardly knew we were apart
I hardly felt we were apart
Trish
I used to fancy a girl name Trish
She had long brown hair she was quite a dish
I was hypnotised by her big blue eyes
And her little mini-skirt that went swish-swish-swish
Trish Trish, she was a communist
I was an anarcho/syndicalist/ marxist/lenninist
Trish Trish, she liked Chairman Mao
But I could not get keen somehow
I said Trish - we can sort this out dialectically
Even tho you find me repulsive sexually
I got a little red book and a chinese hat
She said don’t bother al, you still look a twat
Still I fancied that girl named Trish
With her long brown hair she was quite a dish
I was hypnotised by her big blue eyes, her
creamy white thighs
And a little mini-skirt goin’ - swish-swish-swish
Some men dream to enslave the world
Some are enslaved by the love of a girl
Stalin and Mao trish and me
Keats and fanny, La Belle Dame sans merci
(lead break)
Trish I hope you found a niche
With a house and a car and a satellite dish
Deep in in my heart the Internationale is still played
And we are storming the barricades
I fancied a girl named Trish
With her long brown hair she was quite a dish
I was hypnotised by her big blue eyes
And her little mini-skirt that went swish-swish-swish
The Grammar School Puppy Dog
Somehow they could work it out, back in 1954
Some kids must have talked more posh, or perhaps the clothes they wore
But some were A class pupils, and some went in class B
And that’s how it was the day we met, my best mate and me
We were drawing pictures of our Mums, threading beads and chalking slates
The big girls said are you alright ducky? and the big boys called you mate
We always sat together, from five til I was ten
We’d get split up for acting daft, but we’d sneak
back together again
The games we played , the way we laughed, and all those things we did
Before I was a grammar school puppy dog, and he was a Kitwood kid
We rode the ranges of the allotments, grazed our knees on every path
Fished at Cowbridge and Antons Gowt - the most fearless frogmen down the baths
We were Cisco Kid and Pancho, always the best of friends
Our little bikes were trusty mounts, at hometime and weekends
We splashed down paint, sang the hymns, wrote stories and did sums
But there came a day we had to part, when we were still the best of chums
Two taps fill a bath, one is tap A and one tap B.
One is warm and one is cold, that was him, and that was me.
The games we played , the way we laughed, and all those things we did
Before I was a grammar school puppy dog, and he was a Kitwood kid
The last time I saw Philip, we were downtown on the bus,
We were both twenty, I was glad to see him, but I couldn’t make a fuss
I was ashamed of my unhappiness, the sad days my life had seen
I was off at college, while he’d worked since sixteen
But if Pooh and Piglets are still playing in the 100 acre wood
If all enchanted things remain, and I believe they should
then two mates are out today - off on a sunny bike ride
In a Lincolnshire town where the sky is big, down by the Witham side
The games we played , the way we laughed, and all those things we did
Before I was a grammar school puppy dog, and he was a Kitwood kid
hey grammar school puppy dog, high school cats,
when you see the Kitwood
kids, raise your hats
hey grammar school puppy dog, high school cats,
when you see the Kitwood
kids, raise your hats
©alan whittle2004-08-11
The Big Red Sausage
When they caught sight of his big red sausage, all the ladies said, “Yes
please!”
Cos it weren’t all floppy like an English banger
And he’d even let you give it a squeeze
If you asked for a bite
He’d say “All righta!
My poloney, it aims to pleesa!
No
He wouldn’t quibble, he’d let you
have a nibble
With a little bit of Parmesan cheese
One day on his bike, came Italian Mike
Riding over the hill
Said to Farmer Brown, “Let me work in your fields
Cos I can work with a will”
Some people say, he stooped to pick up some
when summat fell out of his comb’s
And the milkmaid said, “ If that’s the branch
I wouldn’t mind seeing his plums!”
He were riding home, that night to Rome
And the milkmaid, she went with `im
She was sat on his crossbar, he was pedalling away
With a friendly sort of pedalling rhthym
She said to him “I can feel you like me!”
And she thought, “He’s a bit of a card”
He said, “Signorita, get your choppers round this!”
And he whipped out half a yard
Now when the people got hear of Mike’s poloney
Well it come as a bit of a shock
And the folks all came from miles around
Hoping for a glimpse of his big red sausage
All of the fellers got insecure, and they said,
“You can bugger off quick”
But I think I can say, without contradiction
That mine is just as thick
Owl Song
There is an ancient magic, the owl said
to me
she flew
into my headlight’s beam , saying listen carefully
We that take the midnight hours, we travel joylessly
And I, a talonned predator - I don’t
need to see,
The heart that sits inside of you, I feel
its muffled beat
Listen to the music of your heart, are you wedded to defeat
I know you sang to rabble all night long,
alien words, in a subject tongue
I’m flying now in your slipstream,
and I can speak the magic rune
From the walls of my temple, mix it with
your trashy tune
