Side 1 Lyrics

 

Back to Pound Town

Pound Town

 

The escalator takes you up but it doesnít bring you down,

People tend to hang around in Pound Town.

If you want to get it fixed you have to speak to Mr. Tricks,

For every seven he takes six in Pound Town.

 

Pound Town, everything a pound,

Underneath the arches where the deals go down.

Pound Town, lay your money down,

Everything a pound in Pound Town.

 

For gold the streets are paved, donít make the grade and are re-laid,

And every time the sorryís said, they still get paid by Pound Town.

Now they burnt the bandstand down, just donít want folks like us around,

No jungle sound is to be found down south Pound Town.

 

So if you want to run a store the price can get no lower,

Head for Mr Tricksí door. Could you really ask for more?

In Pound Town.  

 

 

Brothers

 

Two brothers live down our way, go to mosque every day.

Thatís too often to pray down our way.

Names are kind of weird, got that funny beard,

Something to be feared down our way.  

So we called the police and two hundred and fifty Bobbies came,

With battering rams and infrared cams,

Looking for SAMs, shot a beardy man in his pyjamas.

 

Deep in Stockwell Hill, brother Sparks from Brazil,

Took seven bullets to kill in the head.

 

Someone called the police and some very special forces came,

Down the apples and pears without paying their fares,

Got him on the deck, blew off his neck.

They got their guns back today.

Hey Hey! Down your way.

 

 

 

 

 

Be Soft

Be soft, be gentle. Catch rough words in your throat
Youíll be amazed just how good it feels.
When you walk, walk lightly, and should you lightly stray
Let the light that you are given guide your way.

And you know itíll be all right.
You know, it has to be true.
You know it will be all right.
You did everything you could do.

Be soft, be gentle let others pass you by.
Youíll be amazed just how good it feels.
Be still, be silent, believe what others say.
But let the light that you are given guide the way.

And you know Itíll be all right.
You know it has to be true.
You know it will be all right.
You did everything you could do.

 

 

Friday Comes

 

Keep your head down, wishing days away,

Donít look round, watch what you say.

Killing time, feeling no pain,

I made it through to Friday, I canít believe itís Friday again.

 

Down in Pound Town itís a working day,

Stuff going down too many ways.

Over time, playing games,

I made it through to Friday, I canít believe itís Friday again.

 

Friday comes, feeling you so near,

I made it through to Friday, I canít believe Fridayís here.

Coming home and holding you so tight,

I made it through to Friday, I canít believe itís Fridayís tonight.

 

Here on the edge of the night you are holding me,

Old in you, nothing else is true.

Feeling the end of the light and the cold in me,

Holding thee, night is almost through.

 

Keep your head down, making it through to Friday.

 

 

Nice Way to Go

Such a nice way to goÖ you know.
A nice way to go, just take it slow.

Take a day off when youíre shining.
Watch the sun slip down and roll around the wall.
Make a time in which there is no sound at all.

Such a nice way to go, you know.
A nice way to go, just take it slow.

There is nothing in creation
That you and only you can do.
As your time on earth is counted so can youÖ

Find a nice way to go, you know.
A nice way to go, take it slow.

Donít go pushing a heavy thing
Donít go taking the first wave.
No use lying your way in.
Youíve got to learn to behave.

Itís a nice way to goÖ you know.
A nice way to go, take it slow.

 

Side 2 Lyrics

 

Straw to Alabama

 

We sent straw to Alabama, we kept the harvest here.

Go tell Osamah they sent rice to Lancashire.

 

I came to Blackburn from the east, following a sign in the air:

It wasnít hard to find her with the chopper and cops everywhere.

Holed up in the cathedral, gunmen on the roof,

Baseball caps watching woolly hats witnessing for truth.

 

A shiny SUV, black as black can be,

No way that driver ever could see.

Had the engine running as she slid into the seat,

I sang ďhow many roads?Ē as they drove down Darwen Street.

 

She took her chopper with her and left us all in peace.

Priests looked pleased as Punch as the sunshine was released.

Policemen took my picture and I sadly bowed my head,

With killers up on top of it that steeple house is dead.

 

Now economics bothers me, itís like an act of faith.

We pay lawyers and liars, dissembling deniers,

Selling guns we do not need to make orphans we canít feed,

When we should keep the harvest here.

 

Go tell Osamah, Go tell Osamah,

Go tell Osamah the old grey goose is dead.

 

*Das klinget so herrlich, Das klinget so schŲn! 
La la ra, la la la la ra, la la la la ra

Nie hab' ich so etwas gehŲrt, noch gesehn. 
La la ra, la la la la ra, la la la la ra*

 

All words and music (except*) written by Patrick G. R. Gallagher copyright © Patrick G. R. Gallagher  all rights reserved