HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

Rogue Oliphant is:

Chris Harford (Guitar, Vocals)
Ray Kubian (Drums, Vocals)
David Mansfield (Guitar, Fiddle, Mandolin, Lapsteel, Vocals)
Paul Muldoon (Lyrics, Vocals)
Cáit O'Riordan (Bass, Vocals)
Warren Zanes (Guitar, Vocals)

With guest artists
Reed Black (Piano, Organ)
Dana Colley (Baritone, Tenor Saxophone, Wurlitzer, Glockenspiel)
Eric Jacobsen (Cello)
Alexis Moon (Vocals)

Songwriting credits for Highlights of the Low Life

DISC 1

01. Fresh Start (Muldoon/Kubian)
02. Not With the Fire In me Now (Muldoon/Harford)
03. Highlights of the Low Life (Muldoon/Harford)
04. What Snow is For (Muldoon)
05. Made Man (Muldoon/Zanes)
06. When We First Heard the Shakers Sing (Muldoon/O'Riordan)
07. Piece of You (Muldoon/Kubian)
08. Deer, Sharon Springs (Muldoon)
09. Stupid Cupid (Muldoon/Zanes)
10. You Say You're Just Hanging Out (Muldoon/Harford)
11. Small Talk (Muldoon/Zanes)
12. I Was Reared on Rock n' Roll (Muldoon/O'Riordan)
13. Joy in Service on Rue Tagore (Muldoon)
14. Rhubarb Jam (Muldoon/Mansfield)

DISC 2

01. Music to My Ears (Muldoon/Harford, Kubian, Mansfield, O'Riordan, Zanes)
02. Hope in Hell (Muldoon/Harford)
03. Next to Nothing (Muldoon/Wheeler)
04. Service Dog (Muldoon/Zanes)
05. Buddy and Billie (Muldoon/Harford)
06. Coywolves (Muldoon)
07. Dry Wash South of Town (Muldoon/Kubian)
08. The Ballad of Ellen Hall (Muldoon/O'Riordan)
09. Julius Caesar Was A People Person (Muldoon/Harford)
10. Uphill Struggle (Muldoon/Zanes)
11. The Riders (Muldoon/Harford, Kubian, Mansfield, O'Riordan, Zanes)
12. Rock 'n' Roll Royalty (Muldoon/Kubian/Thomason)

The Lyrics

DISC 1

01. FRESH START

IN THE BUS

TO THE GYM

I’M THINKING US

YOU’RE THINKING HIM

A NICENS LITTLE BOY

NAMED BABY TUCKOO

THE ROCKY ROAD

TO SANTIAGO

WHICH THE RELIC?

WHICH THE SHRINE?

SOME ARE ANGELIC

SOME BITCH AND WHINE

THE BELLYACHE

POINTS TO A POISON DART

BUT WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

YOU’RE A FLAKE

I’M AN OLD FART

BUT WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

IN THE CAB

TO CITY HALL

MY GIFT OF THE GAB

YOUR STONEWALL

STATELY PLUMP

BUCK MULLIGAN

THE AWKWARD STAGE

POINTS TO THE ELEGANT

WHICH THE FLOOZIE?

WHICH THE NUN?

SOME WIELD AN UZI

SOME AN ICING GUN

A WEDDING CAKE

CAN HAVE A CHANGE OF HEART

SO WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

WE’VE PLUMBED THE WAKE

WITHOUT A CHART

SO WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

IN THE VAN
TO THE SHOW

I’M THINKING WE CAN
YOU’RE THINKING NO

THE RIVERRUN

PAST EVE AND ADAM’S

THERE’S SPLITTING HAIRS

THERE’S SPLITTING ATOMS

WHICH THE GARDEN?
WHICH THE WALL?
SOME WILL BE PARDONED
SOME TAKE A FALL

THE GARTER SNAKE

HOPES FOR A WALK-ON PART

AND WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

I BOUGHT THE RAKE

BACK AT K-MART

WE CAN AT LEAST SHAKE

THE APPLE CART

WE CAN BAKE

AN APPLE TART

AND WE CAN MAKE

A FRESH START

02. NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME NOW

NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME NOW

WOULD I TEST DRIVE

A MUSTANG CONVERTIBLE

ALONG I-95

NO MORE RUNNING INTERFERENCE

NO STICKING IN MY OAR
NO SECURITY CLEARANCE
FOR THE JERSEY SHORE
IT’S NOT THAT SWEET REVENGE

ISN’T STILL SWEET SOMEHOW

BUT I’M NOT FLOATING BOATS

WITH DRAGON PROWS

I’M BURNING NO MORE BRIDGES

I’M NOT LIGHTING LONGSHIP PYRES

I’M NOT HARBORING ANY GRUDGES

NOT WITH THE FIRE

NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME NOW

WOULD I OVERTHROW

THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS

OF YOU & CO

NO MORE HERDING OF STRAGGLERS
TO THE CRACK OF DOOM
NO HASHERS AND HAGGLERS
IN A SMOKE-FILLED ROOM

IT’S NOT THAT I WON’T TIP

ONE OF YOUR SACRED COWS

BUT I’M NOT SPARKED BY MARX

OR CHAIRMAN MAO

I’M BURNING NO MORE MIDNIGHT

OIL DOWN TO THE WIRE

I’M NOT REWRITING THE MINUTES

NOT WITH THE FIRE

NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME

NOW YOU’RE DATING A GUY FROM ICELANDAIR

WHO’S YET TO EARN HIS WINGS

NOW YOU’VE REFUSED ME A STRAND OF YOUR HAIR

TO REPLACE MY BROKEN BOWSTRING

NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME NOW

WOULD I GRIP THE WHEEL

OF A ’76 THUNDERBIRD

OR AN OLDSMOBILE

NO MORE SETTING OFF WITH KAREN
FROM A USED CAR LOT
NO RAKING THE PINE BARRENS
TILL THE HOOD’S WHITE HOT

IT’S NOT THAT MY EARLY LIFE

IS A LIFE I DISAVOW

BUT I FIND I’M DISINCLINED

TO FACTOR IN A WOW

I’M BURNING NO MORE RUBBER

I’M NOT KICKING WHITEWALL TIRES

I’M NOT TAKING ANY LOVERS

NOT WITH THE FIRE

NOT WITH THE FIRE IN ME NOW

03. HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

THE TIME I SET FIRE

TO YOUR NEAR FRONT TIRE

SO YOU WOULDN’T MAKE PROM NIGHT

THE TIME I CHALLENGED

YOUR SON JACK PALANCE
TO A ONE-ARMED BAREFIST FIGHT

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

HIGHLIGHTS HIGHLIGHTS

OF THE LOW LIFE

THE TIME I THREW UP

IN THE STIRRUP CUP

AT LORD AND LADY WRIGHT’S

THE TIME I SOLD A FINNAN HADDIE

IN A 2 GRAM BAGGIE

TO MS. WHITER-THAN-WHITE

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

HIGHLIGHTS HIGHLIGHTS

OF THE LOW LIFE

I STABBED YOUR KITTEN

WITH A KITCHEN KNIFE

I PROPOSITIONED

YOUR FIRST HUSBAND’S WIFE

SHE WAS BABYSTTING

JACK AND HIS HALF-BROTHER

I PROPOSITIONED

YOUR FIRST HUSBAND’S MOTHER

I THINK I MAY BE MISSING

SOME OF THE OTHER

HIGHLIGHTS HIGHLIGHTS HIGHLIGHTS

THE TIME I USED YOUR NAME

IN AN EXPENSES CLAIM

FOR BREAKFAST AT BRIGHTS

THE TIME I BORROWED

YOUR PET ROOSTER HORACE

FOR A SATANIC RITE

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

HIGHLIGHTS HIGHLIGHTS

OF THE LOW LIFE

04. WHAT SNOW IS FOR
For reminding us of what might disappear
night after night without leaving any trace –
the buck dropping a single handkerchief-ear
to signal the start of a chariot race

that may only ever end in Antioch
and a loud prig’s besting by a local prince.
For the stadium’s collective ach or och
as the cycle turns implacably to rinse

across the blur of the cemetery grounds
where a head’s still often dashed against a stone.
For rounding out the coywolf doing his rounds
with that much-vaunted consistency of tone

yet underlining what lies beyond our reach
is a function of the margin, not the page.
For having us cry out in joy, each to each,
without the least compunction to act our age.

For telling just how far it is to the shed.
For telling how cavalierly we say “white.”
For daring us to be in over our heads.
For a laundry room wall nicked with the kids’ heights.

For revealing religion is unrevealed
to the preacher letting off a little steam.
For completely leveling the playing field
on which we’ll happily take one for the team.

For second-guessing the slalom through the glens
on which that buck will lead us a merry chase.
For the old Panavision wide angle lens
that shows him to be quite the chariot-ace.

For falling from a tree with a muted thump
onto a sheet already spread out for fruit.
For convincing us we’re now over the hump.
For allowing a threatened plant to take root.

For putting the skids on our putting the skids
on the idea we’re brothers under the skin.
For drawing up that blank contract with our kids
with the sole stipulation all count as kin.

For taking the part of the partial eclipse.
For insisting that no flaw’s a fatal flaw.
For having its own name on everyone’s lips.
For establishing as equal before the law

a buck whose motivations we misconstrue
and a threatened sprig on which he loves to browse.
For proving every line’s somewhat out of true
in the chamber from which we may one day rouse.

05. MADE MAN

I WAS CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE

WHEN A HITMAN FOR HIRE

ALERTED THE TOWN CRIER

YOU WERE MOUNTING A DAWN RAID

YOU’D PROVED YOU COULD LET RIP
SHOOTING FROM THE HIP

WHEN WE TOOK THAT LAST TRIP

UP TO THE PALISADES

YOU MAY PISTOL-WHIP MY BOY-CHOIR

YOU MAY GIVE ME A FAT LIP

I’LL NEVER WEAR A WIRE

I’LL NEVER FLIP

I’LL NEVER TURN MY COAT ON A FRIEND OF MINE

I TOOK A BLOOD OATH I’M A MADE MAN

I WAS EATING RAINBOW TROUT

ON A BED OF BRUSSELS SPROUTS

WHEN I BEGAN TO DOUBT

MY OWN SENSE I’D BEEN BETRAYED

YOU’D PROVED YOU’VE NERVES OF STEEL
AFTER THE VEGAS DEAL
WHEN EDDIE THE EEL

WENT WITH THE RENEGADES

YOU MAY HOLLOW-HEEL MY BOY-SCOUT

YOU MAY CUFF ME TO A WHEEL

I’LL NEVER RAT YOU OUT

I’LL NEVER SQUEAL

I’LL NEVER TURN MY COAT ON A FRIEND OF MINE

I TOOK A BLOOD OATH I’M A MADE MAN

NOT JUST ANOTHER WISEGUY

WAYLAYING BAGMEN AND BOXCARS

NOT SINCE YOU MADE ME RECOGNIZE
THE BEAUTY OF THIS THING OF OURS

NOT SINCE YOU MADE ME RECOGNIZE

THE BEAUTY OF THIS THING OF OURS

I GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE STING

SIMPLY BECAUSE I CHOSE TO FLING

MY HAT INTO YOUR RING

LIKE A HAND GRENADE

YOU’D PROVED YOU’VE PERFECT PITCH

THE NIGHT YOU FLICKED A SWITCH

AND THEN ADDRESSED THE ITCH

BETWEEN MY SHOUDERBLADES

YOU MAY TRIPLE-TWITCH MY BOY-STRING

YOU MAY DUMP ME IN A DITCH

YOU KNOW I’LL NEVER SING

I’LL NEVER SNITCH

I’LL NEVER TURN MY COAT ON A FRIEND OF MINE

I TOOK A BLOOD OATH I’M A MADE MAN

06. WHEN FIRST WE HEARD THE SHAKERS SING

WHEN FIRST WE HEARD THE SHAKERS SING

IT SEEMED WE MIGHT OURSELVES TAKE WING

AND SOAR AS ANGELS MIGHT HAVE SOARED

HAD THEY NOT SINCE BEEN SHOWN THE DOOR

THE DOORS WE HAVE BEEN SHOWN OF LATE

ARE TIGHTER FITS THAN HEAVEN’S GATE

JUST LOOK AT HOW THEY RAISED A BARN

JUST LOOK AT HOW THEY SPUN A YARN

THE YARN THEY FASHIONED INTO SOCKS

FROM MAPLE THEY WOULD MAKE A BOX

FROM WILLOW THAT ONCE SHOOK A LEG

THOSE THREE CHAIRS HANGING FROM THEIR PEGS

AND HANGING STILL IS JESUS CHRIST

WHO STANDS FOR ALL THEY SACRIFICED

THIS WAS THE CHRIST WHO COMES AGAIN

TO SEPARATE THE CHAFF AND GRAIN

FOR NOW THE TIGHT GRAIN OF A BEECH

WOULD PUT THE NEXT WORLD WITHIN REACH

FROM POPLAR THEY WOULD MAKE STAIR-TREADS

FROM CHERRY THEY WOULD MAKE THEIR BEDS

YET IN THOSE BEDS SO FEW GAVE BIRTH

FEWER STILL FOUND HEAVEN ON EARTH
THE WORLD FROM WHICH THEY HAD WITHDRAWN

PAID LITTLE HEED WHEN THEY PASSED ON

YET THEY PASSED ON THEIR SIMPLE GIFTS
SO NOW OUR OWN SPIRITS MIGHT LIFT

IT SEEMED WE MIGHT OURSELVES TAKE WING

WHEN FIRST WE HEARD THE SHAKERS SING

07. A PIECE OF YOU

IN UPPER SADDLE RIVER

AND HO-HO-KUS

THEY EAT THE LIVER

OF A FATTED GOOSE

IN SHORT HILLS

AND HACKENSACK

THEY EAT SHORT RIBS

THEY’VE PUT TO THE RACK

I’VE EATEN MY OWN WEIGHT

IN MEMPHIS BARBECUE

WHAT I’D LOVE ON MY PLATE’S

A PIECE OF YOU

A PIECE OF YOU A PIECE OF YOU

WHAT I’D LOVE NOW’S A PIECE OF YOU

BACK THERE IN NESHANIC

AND SCOTCH PLAINS

THEY EAT OAT BANNOCKS

SMEARED WITH CALF’S BRAINS

IN ALEXANDRIA

AND TUCKAHOE

THEY SERVE SHAD

ALONGSIDE SHAD ROE

I FIND IT HARD TO RELATE

TO PRAIRIE OYSTER STEW

WHAT I’D LOVE ON MY PLATE’S

A PIECE OF YOU

A PIECE OF YOU A PIECE OF YOU

WHAT I’D LOVE NOW’S A PIECE OF YOU

THOUGH I’M PRETTY SURE I DETECTED A LAUGH

FROM ONE OR TWO OF THE WAIT STAFF

AND THE KITCHEN CREW

WHEN YOU TOLD ME BACK IN THE RESTAURANT

THAT EVERYBODY SEEMS TO WANT

A PIECE OF YOU

A PIECE OF YOU A PIECE OF YOU
EVERYBODY WANTS A PIECE OF YOU

MEANWHILE IN SIDNEY
AND WATCHUNG
THEY EAT LAMB’S KIDNEY

THEY EAT LAMB’S TONGUE

IN MENLO PARK

AND MANALAPAN
THEY’LL ROAST A HEART
OVER A DRIP PAN

I’VE ORDERED IN A CRATE
OF THAT TRAPPIST BREW

WHAT I’D LOVE ON MY PLATE’S

A PIECE OF YOU

A PIECE OF YOU A PIECE OF YOU

WHAT I’D LOVE NOW’S A PIECE OF YOU

08. THREE DEER, SHARON SPRINGS, NOVEMBER, 2020
Got up though they may be in heavy duty gaberdine
they cavort like fawn-devotees of Dionysus.
Their patron saint is Joseph of Cupertino,

the go-to guy for dunces
who’ll make a run for it across a four-lane highway.
You have to admit they’re tenacious,

holding out no less than goats or hee-haws
for a tidbit that’s survived blight or powdery mildew.
The jury’s hung as to whether the Woes

of the Pharisees amount to eight (as in Matthew)
or six (as in Luke).
A corner of the meadow

where a sky once lived is shown by that blue plaque;
the sky this morning’s streaked with Coppertone
now the snow’s been washing its dirty linen in public.

09. STUPID CUPID

THOUGH I’VE TIED A LOVE KNOT

YOU GAVE IT YOUR BEST SHOT

TO THROW ME FOR A LOOP

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID]

BUT YOUR SHOT IN THE DARK

WAS SO WIDE OF THE MARK

I’LL EASILY REGROUP

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID…

STUPID CUPID… STUPID CUPID]

BECAUSE YOU CAN TAKE AIM

DOESN’T MAKE ME FAIR GAME

DOESN’T MAKE ME YOUR DUPE

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID]

YOUR GAME’S BECOME MY SPORT

NOW YOU’VE SO FALLEN SHORT

IN LEADING THE DAWN SWOOP

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID…

STUPID CUPID… STUPID CUPID]

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE ON TARGET

I WOULD COME WITHIN YOUR RANGE

BUT I’M NOT IN THE MARKET

I’M NOT LOOKING FOR A CHANGE

YOU MUST HAVE BEEN SO FOCUSED

ON CATCHING ME UNAWARES

YOU SOMEHOW FAILED TO NOTICE

MY HEART WAS ALREADY HERS

THOUGH THE DART YOU LET FLY

MAY HAVE MISSED THE BULL’S EYE

YOU PUT ME THROUGH SOME HOOPS

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID]

YOUR OWN EYE’S OUT OF JOINT

YOU’RE SO BESIDE THE POINT

YOU’RE SUCH A NINCOMPOOP

[YOU’RE SUCH A STUPID… STUPID CUPID…

STUPID CUPID… STUPID CUPID]

YOU TRIED TO SHOOT ME AT FIRST LIGHT

SO NOW I’VE GOT YOU IN MY SIGHTS

10. YOU SAY YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT

(BUT I KNOW YOU’RE JUST HANGING IN)

I WISH YOU’D LEAVE YOUR ONE BEDROOM

FLY BACK TO ME DIRECTLY

EVEN A CROW WILL NOT PRESUME

TO STICK TO THE SCRIPT EXACTLY

YOU LIKE TO SHOOT STRAIGHT FROM THE HIP

WHEN YOU’RE POURING A DRINK

AND TENDING BAR BRINGS IN THE TIPS

THAT PAY FOR TIME TO THINK

YOUR ONE BEDROOM ON BLEECKER STREET

ITS BATHTUB FULL OF GIN

YOU SAY YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT

BUT I KNOW YOU’RE JUST HANGING IN

I WISH YOU’D LOSE AT LEAST ONE LAYER

OF YOUR OBSTINANCE

EVEN A MULE’S A TEAM PLAYER

THOUGH ITS DESK’S A LOT LESS LADEN

TONIGHT DEATH VALLEY SEEMS TO RUN

FROM BLEECKER TO BROADWAY

YOU’RE HAULING BORAX BY THE TON

WHILE I PAY AND DISPLAY

YOU LOOK LIKE YOUR OWN WINDING SHEET

HELD UP BY TWO CLOTHESPINS

YOU SAY YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT

BUT I KNOW YOU’RE JUST HANGING IN

I WISH YOU’D FIND A WAY TO CHILL

STOP YOUR EXAGGERATIONS

EVEN A MOLE MAKES A MOLEHILL

OUT OF THE NEAREST MOUNTAIN

YOUR WRITING DESK IS BARBED WIRE FENCED

IT’S YOU AGAINST THE WORD

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL YOU’RE UP AGAINST

FROM EVERYTHING I’VE HEARD

YOUR ONE BEDROOM ON BLEECKER STREET

ITS WALLS ARE PAPER THIN

YOU SAY YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT

BUT I KNOW YOU’RE JUST HANGING IN

11. SMALL TALK

I’VE ARGUED WITH ARISTOTLE
ON WHAT HE THINKS IS GOOD

I’VE REACHED OUT TO WARNER BROTHERS

ON SCHMUCKS WITH UNDERWOODS

KEYBOARDS WITH OLIVETTI

RABBIT HOLES WITH ALICE

ALICE WITH TOM PETTY

THE QUEEN ON THE PALACE

I’VE COMPARED NOTES ON CHILD-REARING

WITH DOCTOR SPOCK

I’M NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

NOT SO BIG

I’M JUST NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

I’VE SEEN EYE TO EYE WITH EINSTEIN
ON E=MC2
I’VE PREVIEWED THE NEW SEASON
WITH JOHN LOGIE BAIRD

CITY LIGHTS WITH FERLINGHETTI

SIR LES WITH BARRY HUMPHRIES

HUMPHREY BOGART WITH BETTY

MRS BEETON ON COMFREY

I’VE COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING

ON THE SUBJECT OF LOCKE

I’M NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

NOT SO BIG

I’M JUST NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

I’VE CHALLENGED JOSEPH CAMPBELL
ON WHY JUNG BROKE WITH FREUD
I’VE BEEN IN DISCUSSIONS WITH NASA

ON STOPPING ASTEROIDS

HEMINGWAY ON THE SERENGETI

THE DALAI LAMA ON TENSING

TENZING ON THE YETI

YEATS ON RITUAL CLEANSING

I’VE GONE BACK AND FORTH WITH TOFFLER

ON THE FUTURE OF FUTURE SHOCK

I’M NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

NOT SO BIG

I’M JUST NOT SO BIG

ON THE SMALL TALK

12. I WAS REARED ON ROCK’N’ROLL

I WAS REARED TO FEAR THE LORD
AND NEITHER SMOKE NOR CHEW

BUT I BECAME SLIGHTLY UNSTUCK
WHEN I FIRST HEARD THE BLUES

AFTER I HAD DONE MY STINT

FOR PICKING YOUR LOCK

THEY FOUND MY PRINTS

ON A CIGAR BOX…

THE ONE LIGHTNIN’ HOPKINS PLAYED

WHEN HE HAD THE FIRST OF THE BIG PAYDAYS

THAT KICKED OFF HIS RUN OF BAD LUCK

IF IT TURNS OUT YOUR FUNDER

HAS PILLAGED AND PLUNDERED

DON’T ACT THUNDERSTRUCK

ACT LIKE YOU’VE JUST MADE A MINT

BLACKBEARD CAPTAIN FLINT

I MYSELF DON’T DO SHORE PATROL

BUT I’VE STROLLED PROMENADES AND PIERS

I MAY NOT LOOK LIKE A BUCCANEER

BUT I’VE BEEN KNOWN TO WALK ON COALS

I’M STRONGER THAN YOU THINK MY DEAR

I WAS REARED ON ROCK’N’ROLL

I WAS REARED TO STEER A COURSE
BY READINGS AT HIGH NOON
BUT I SIGNED ON FOR A PRE-NUP
THAT WOULD LEAVE ME MAROONED

AFTER I WAS DUMPED
WITH ONE FLINTLOCK
I FOUND MYSELF STUMPED
BY A PARADOX…
THE ONE WHERE EVERY DIVORCEE

STARTS TO LOOK A-OKAY

WHEN YOU’RE IN YOUR CUPS

WHEN YOU HIT ROCK BOTTOM

WITH A GIRL CALLED AUTUMN

THE SOLUTION’S BOTTOM-UP

ACT LIKE YOU JUST HIT A LITTLE BUMP

NIXON DONALD TRUMP

I MYSELF DON’T DO MIND CONTROL

BUT I’M TOLD I’VE INFLUENCED A SPHERE

I MAY NOT LOOK LIKE A PUPPETEER

BUT I’VE BEEN KNOWN TO MOVE HEARTS AND SOULS

I’M STRONGER THAN YOU THINK MY DEAR

I WAS REARED ON ROCK’N’ROLL

I WAS REARED TO CLEAR THE DECKS
IF AND WHEN A CANNON CAME LOOSE
BUT I’VE STOOD AMIDSHIPS ON THE WALRUS
WITH MY HEAD INSIDE A NOOSE

AFTER YOU HAD READ YOUR LIST
YOU KEPT AN EYE ON THE CLOCK
LIKE A THERAPIST
WITH HER KLEENEX BOX…

THE ONE LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM PLAYED

WHEN FLEETWOOD MAC WERE IN THEIR HEYDAY

AROUND THE TIME OF “TUSK”

THERE’S ALSO THE IGNOMINY

OF BETTING IT ALL ON THE 2000 GUINEAS

AND SLEEPING IN A MINIBUS

ACT LIKE THAT’S A POINT THAT WAS MISSED

BY OZ HENSEN & TWIST

I MYSELF DON’T DO CAPRIOLES

BUT I BOLDLY VAULT I BOLDLY VEER

I MAY NOT LOOK LIKE A MUSKETEER

BUT I’VE BEEN KNOWN TO FIND LOOPHOLES

I’M STRONGER THAN YOU THINK MY DEAR

I WAS REARED ON ROCK’N’ROLL

13. JOY IN SERVICE ON RUE TAGORE
I

As I enter a doctor’s office
on 57th between Eighth and Ninth
a rat comes zig-zag towards me like a powder-fuse
towards a keg. Every three months

I’d meet Emile in Le Petit Prince
or another high-end restaurant in Algiers.
In Le Normand we bought foie gras by the ounce
even as we rearranged the deckchairs;

it seemed rats given a high dosage of the amaranth
dye found in maraschino cherries
would develop tumors

so he favored mint to garnish his crème de menthe.
Bottoms up, old boy. Cheers.
If he didn’t have fresh mint he’d extemporize.

2

If he didn’t have fresh mint he’d extemporize
with something from the diplomatic pouch

to simultaneously pep up and put dampers
on our spirits. One woman flashed the badge

of a nipple but looked askance
when I took it in. Once it was all cloak and dagger.
We were all undercover once,
until Emile’s headstrong cri de coeur

against my using the hand he kept in the fridge
of his apartment on Rue Tagore
to plant a fingerprint on a doorknob chez Ducasse.

In those years it was so much easier to fudge
the evidence, before DNA and my own dodgy ticker,
the years spent chained to a briefcase.

3

The years I spent with a briefcase
chained to my wrist
are as nothing now, those most pervicacious
young creatures I encouraged to do their worst

having long since renounced
their claims or fallen foul of Special Ops.
Every October Emile would make syrup of quince.
He and I have both been toodle-pipped

at the post
by the mediocracy, the closest I now come to a stab
of joy itself being somewhat amorphous –

the fleeting smile, the blood test
proving negative that lends a bounce to my step
as I leave a doctor’s office.

14. RHUBARB JAM

IT’S QUITE OFTEN I’VE MET A NEW WIDOW

WHEN I FLY ICELANDAIR

I MAY NOT BE MAX VON SYDOW

BUT I DO HAVE GOOD HAIR

THAT’S WHY I’VE ENTERED THE MARKETPLACE

HOPING TO SPOT A TREND

LOOKS LIKE THE MOVING WALKWAY

IS COMING TO AN END

WHY DO THEY CALL IT SCHIPHOL?

IT’S REALLY AMSTERDAM

MAKE THAT VODKA A TRIPLE

AND ADD SOME RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB

I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB

I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

WHEN HER HUSBAND FELL FOUL OF WHALE-ROTTERS

WHO HANDED HIM HIS ASS

IT SEEMS GERTRUD MAGNUSDOTTIR
MIXED HIS ASHES WITH MOLTEN GLASS

AND AS SHE GRASPED THAT PAPERWEIGHT

HER HEART BEGAN TO MEND

LOOKS LIKE THE MOVING WALKWAY

IS COMING TO AN END

I’M JUST ONE MORE FLATLINER

ON AN ELECTROCARDIOGRAM

IT STEMS FROM ASIA MINOR

THAT JAR OF RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB

I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB

I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

THERE ARE TIMES IN THE RUNUP TO EASTER

DELAYS ARE A MATTER OF COURSE

ALONG THE BANKS OF THE DNIESTER

THE RHUBARB’S STILL BEING FORCED

THE TOILETS ARE ALL INTERFAITH

JUST CHECK OUT THAT J-BEND

LOOKS LIKE THE MOVING WALKWAY

IS COMING TO AN END

WHEN I MEET MY REYKJAVIKER

SHE’LL CARVE THE PASCHAL LAMB

SHE LIKES IT CUT SLIGHTLY THICKER

AND SERVED WITH RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB
I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

YOU THINK I’M TALKING RHUBARB

I’M TALKING RHUBARB JAM

DISC 2

01. MUSIC TO MY EARS

I GREW UP IN THE COUNTRY
A LITTLE TO THE WEST
I WALKED BETWEEN THE HEDGEROWS
WHERE SMALL BIRDS MADE THEIR NESTS
MY NEIGHBOURS WERE RICH FARMERS

THEY TOOK THE HIGHER GROUND

ON MOST DAYS AROUND CHRISTMAS

THEY WOULD UNLEASH THEIR HOUNDS

WHEN THEY YELPED TO THEIR MASTERS

IT MEANT A HARE WAS NEAR
THE TINKLE OF STREAM WATER

WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

WHEN I THINK OF MY CHILDHOOD

IT WAS ALL SNOW AND SUN

UNTIL THE NINETEEN SIXTIES
WHEN SOMETHING CAME UNDONE
THE GOVERNMENT HAD VETOED
OUR BASIC CIVIL RIGHTS
I MIGHT HAVE JOINED MY COUSIN
AND TAKEN UP THE FIGHT

HE STOOD WITH THE RESISTANCE

BANDITS AND BANDOLIERS

THAT GUNFIRE IN THE DISTANCE

WAS MUSIC TO HIS EARS

BUT I TOOK UP THE GUITAR

I PLAYED IT SWEET AND LOW

I’D HEARD THINGS DON’T GET STARTED

UNTIL THE AFTERSHOW

I DREAMED A GIRL CALLED SARAH
WOULD ASK ME ON HER PORCH
THE NIGHT WAS FULL OF CRITTERS
SHE LIT A TIKI TORCH

SHE WITHDREW TO HER COTTAGE

AND CAME BACK WITH TWO BEERS

THE CLINKING OF THOSE BOTTLES

WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

I WAS JUST OUT OF COLLEGE
WHEN MY MOTHER GOT ILL
MY FATHER WAS NOW AILING
I HELPED HIM WRITE HIS WILL
THEY CAME IN QUICK SUCCESSION

THOSE RINGING TELEPHONES

SO I BURIED MY PARENTS

UNDER A SINGLE STONE

A MASON SIMPLY CANNOT

BUT HIT THE STRATOSPHERE

THE CHISEL AGAINST GRANITE

WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

MY COUSIN WAS IN PRISON
BUT WHEN IT COMES TO CRIME
THROUGHOUT THE LENGTH OF IRELAND

WE WERE ALL DOING TIME
SARAH AND I WERE MARRIED

DURING THE WORKERS’ STRIKE

SHE GAVE BIRTH TO OUR DAUGHTER

JUST AS THE VIOLENCE SPIKED

THOUGH SO MUCH WAS UNSTABLE
AT LEAST I WOULDN’T VEER

FROM THE ROCKING OF A CRADLE

THAT WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

IT WAS A LOTTERY VISA

THAT WOULD BRING US TO QUEENS

THAT VISA FOUND ME WORKING

THE NEW YORK MUSIC SCENE

TELEGRAM SAM THE JEEPSTER
IT COULDN’T GET TOO LOUD

OUR NEO-GLAM BROUGHT GLAMOR

TO THIS MUCH OLDER CROWD

WE PLAYED TYRANNASAURUS
REX SONGS TILL THEY CHEERED
THEIR JOINING IN A CHORUS
WAS MUSIC TO OUR EARS

THERE WERE SO MANY ISSUES
WE HAD TO OVERCOME
WHAT WITH JACK FLASH ON VOCALS
AND PETE PEDAL ON DRUMS
ONE NIGHT JUST NORTH OF PHILLY
OUR VAN RAN OUT OF GAS
WE HUDDLED ON THE SHOULDER
WHILE SIGHING FOR THE PAST
“WHERE O WHERE,” ASKED PETE PEDAL,

“ARE THE SNOWS OF YESTERYEAR?”
A HAILSTORM’S PROMPT REBUTTAL
WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

NOW AFTER SINGING BACKUP
FOR LESS THAN MINIMUM WAGE

SARAH BACKED OUT ENTIRELY
ENTIRELY LEFT THE STAGE
I LANDED A COMMISSION
FOR “LEAVING LEAVENWORTH”
JUST SHORTLY AFTER MY DAUGHTER

HAD HERSELF GIVEN BIRTH

THOUGH MY GRANDSON WAS NAPPING

THROUGH THE WORLD PREMIERE

THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING

WAS MUSIC TO MY EARS

THE FACT THAT FAME’S ELUSIVE
TO WHICH I’M NOW RESIGNED

LIES BEHIND THE SONG CYCLE

TO WHICH I’VE TURNED MY MIND

THEY SAY THESE DAYS THAT CANCER
IS TIED TO CHROMOSOMES
LIKE CARPENTERS MOONLIGHTING
DOWN AT THE FUNERAL HOME
A PINE BOX ON A TRESTLE

A COFFIN ON A BIER

THE BUCKSAW’S RASP AND RATTLE

IS MUSIC TO MY EARS

THE BUCKSAW’S RASP AND RATTLE

IS MUSIC TO MY EARS

02. HOPE IN HELL

YOU THINK I’LL THROW
MYSELF AT YOU SO’S
TO CUSHION THE BLOW

FOR YOUR FALLS MUST BE SOFTENED

I’LL GO OUT ON A LIMB

TO SAVE YOURSELF AND JIM

FROM A FATE THAT’S PRETTY GRIM

YOU WANT SOMETHING FOR NOTHING

YOU WANT MONEY FOR OLD ROPE

OLD ROPE IS ALL YOU SELL

BUT YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE

YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE IN HELL

YOU THINK I’M BOUND

NOT TO LET YOU DOWN

INTO THE STONY GROUND

IN A SATIN-LINED COFFIN

OPPORTUNITIES ARE MEANT

TO BE HEAVEN SENT

BUT YOU’VE BECOME HELL BENT

YOU WANT SOMETHING FOR NOTHING

YOU WANT MONEY FOR OLD ROPE

OLD ROPE IS ALL YOU SELL

BUT YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE

YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE IN HELL

YOU CAN MAKE YOUR SALES PITCH

FROM NOW TO JUDGEMENT DAY

ALL YOUR EFFORTS ARE LAST DITCH

AND NOW THERE’S HELL TO PAY

YOU THINK THAT TIME

JIM AND YOU MANAGED TO CLIMB
OUT OF THE PRIMORDIAL SLIME
WASN’T ONCE TOO OFTEN

I’LL SOMEHOW TAKE THE HEAT

FOR YOUR BEING A CHEAT

WHEN YOU GET BETWEEN THE SHEETS

YOU WANT SOMETHING FOR NOTHING

YOU WANT MONEY FOR OLD ROPE
OLD ROPE IS ALL YOU SELL

BUT YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE

YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE IN HELL

YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE

YOU DON’T HAVE A HOPE IN HELL

03. NEXT TO NOTHING

THE OX STILL MEANS SAINT LUKE
THE OX MEANS BETHLEHEM
THE LIVER MEANS FLUKE

NOW RUBY MEANS GEM

GEMINI MEANS TWINS

DISENTANGLE MEANS COMB

DERMIS MEANS SKIN

SPINDRIFT STILL MEANS FOAM

AN OHM MEANS A BOFFIN

HOME MEANS A KEY

BUT YOU MEAN NOTHING

OR NEXT TO NOTHING

YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME

THE WIRE MEANS A WIRE TAP
THE WIRE MEANS BALTIMORE
A MILKSHAKE MEANS FRAPPE

NOW FUNGUS MEANS SPORE

SPORADIC MEANS SPARSE

PRIMORDIAL MEANS SLIME

FEYDEAU MEANS FARCE

MARCEL STILL MEANS MIME

OFTIMES MEANS OFTEN

A LIME MEANS A KEY

BUT YOU MEAN NOTHING

OR NEXT TO NOTHING

YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME

THE SIEGE MEANS RAT AND LOUSE
THE SIEGE MEANS LENINGRAD
THE FIGHTING HOUSE TO HOUSE
NOW ANNEX MEANS ADD

ADOBE MEANS CLAY

METAMORPHIC MEANS ROCK

MOONBEAM MEANS RAY

REYNARD STILL MEANS FOX

A BOX MEANS A COFFIN

A LOCK MEANS A KEY

BUT YOU MEAN NOTHING

OR NEXT TO NOTHING

YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME

04. SERVICE DOG

YOU THREW A LEFT HOOK

I’D DROPPED MY GUARD

YOU’D GONE BY THE BOOK

I’D PLAYED THE WILD CARD

YOU HIT MY GLASS JAW
WITH AN UPPERCUT

I HAD A FATAL FLAW

YOU KNEW IN YOUR GUT

EVERY CATASTROPHE

HAS A BACK CATALOGUE

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

EVERY CATASTROPHE

HAS A BACK CATALOGUE

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

YOU MIXED ME A DRINK

I’D TAKEN THE PLEDGE

YOU PUSHED ME TO THE BRINK

I WENT OVER THE EDGE

YOU THOUGHT THE BOULEVARD
WAS A VALE OF TEARS
MY JUDGEMENT CAME DOWN HARD
IT FELL ON DEAF EARS

EVERY IRISH POET

SINKS INTO A PEAT BOG

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

EVERY IRISH POET

SINKS INTO A PEAT BOG

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

YOU WERE IN THE KNOW

I DREW THE SHORT STRAW

YOU TAUGHT ME TO LIE LOW

I GAVE YOU A PAW

YOU STOOD ON THE LEDGE

AND CALLED ME TO COME

I MAY HAVE PULLED THE SLEDGE

BUT YOU WERE STRUCK DUMB

EVERY DEMOCRACY

THROWS UP A DEMAGOGUE

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

EVERY DEMOCRACY

THROWS UP A DEMAGOGUE

EVERY BLIND OLD LADY

NEEDS HER SERVICE DOG

05. BUDDY AND BILLIE

ALTHOUGH THE MODELS HAD BEEN SNORTING BLOW

THE OUTLOOK STILL SEEMED FAR FROM BLEAK

WHEN YOU AND I SAT THERE IN THE FRONT ROW

HALFWAY THROUGH NEW YORK FASHION WEEK

I’D HOPED THE SNOW MIGHT CLOG OUR WIPER BLADES

WHEN WE TOOK OFF FROM A RUNWAY

I’D HOPED WE MIGHT BE GOING DOWN IN FLAMES

WITH BUDDY HOLLY AND BILLIE HOLIDAY

BUT WE SEEMED DOOMED ALWAYS TO BE AT PEACE
TO FIND OURSELVES QUITE RECONCILED
OUR FRIENDS BEQUEATHING US A GOLDEN FLEECE
WHEN YOU GAVE BIRTH TO OUR FIRST CHILD

I’D HOPED THE POLICE MIGHT STILL SHOW UP TO RAID
THE PRIVATE ROOM IN WHICH WE LAY

I’D HOPED WE MIGHT BE GOING DOWN IN FLAMES

WITH BUDDY HOLLY AND BILLIE HOLIDAY

WE SEEM TO HAVE SURVIVED ANOTHER CRASH

THAT’S LEFT SO MANY OUT OF LUCK

WE’VE WAITED IN A CORNFIELD FOR A FLASH
NOT EVEN ONCE HAS LIGHTNING STRUCK

I’D HOPED THAT FASHION WEEK WOULDN’T JUST FADE

AND FIZZLE OUT AROUND HALFWAY

I’D HOPED WE MIGHT BE GOING DOWN IN FLAMES

WITH BUDDY HOLLY AND BILLIE HOLIDAY

06. COYWOLVES
The sight of one crossing my yard – all copper-zinc – in broad daylight, is etched on my eye.
It’s mostly at night, though, when they snag

a hapless deer, their voices are raised on high.
No sooner do they corner a woodchuck or racoon
than their cover of “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

resounds from here to Oregon.
The version I myself favor, to kick off a road trip,
is Frankie Laine’s of 1963. Others reckon

Johnny Cash to be preeminent. Still others heap
praise on Elvis Presley and Burl Ives.
This midnight mix of yodels and yippie-yi-oohs

may derive
not from a whole pack but a single pair.
In Alaska a hunter’s been known to set out knives

covered in ice-blood on which coywolves will pare
themselves down to the bone.
Though this may be no more than a brouhaha

over competing claims to a garbage bin
that’ll set off the neighbor’s motion
detector camera, we hear it as both a paean

of praise from a Mission
featuring a mosaic
of Saint Francis and the wolf and a muezzin’s

call to prayer from an unlikely mosque.
Frankie Laine did invite me once to co-write a song
but I stupidly declined because I can’t read music.

07. DRY WASH SOUTH OF TOWN

THERE’S A DRY WASH SOUTH OF TOWN

NEAR THE INDIAN BURYING GROUND

I’LL BE THERE BEFORE SUNDOWN

I’LL WAIT THERE TILL YOU COME ROUND

COME ROUND YOU MUST SURELY DO

IF WE TAKE THE LONGER VIEW

I WON’T NEED A NEW TATTOO

TO PROVE THAT MY HEART IS TRUE

IN THAT DRY WASH SOUTH OF TOWN

IT’S TRUE I DON’T LIKE TO SHARE

A HERO WON’T FOLLOW THE HERD

I’VE SEEN NORMAL WEAR AND TEAR

BUT YOU LEFT ME UNPREPARED

I WAS PREPARED TO GET BEHIND

EVERY PLAN YOU HAD OUTLINED

THE FACT I’D NOT BEEN ON YOUR MIND

IS ONE TO WHICH I WAS RESIGNED

TILL THE VILLAGERS HAD ENOUGH

OF ALL THIS HORSING AROUND

ENOUGH OF CALDERA STEALING THEIR STUFF

THEY’LL NOT TAKE IT LYING DOWN

MY SENSE OF WHERE YOU ARE IS ROUGH

YOU KNOW WHERE I AM TO BE FOUND

PAST THE HILL SOME CALL A BLUFF

IN THE DRY WASH SOUTH OF TOWN

I’M RESIGNED TO BEING OUTGUNNED

THE HAMMER FALLS UNDER THE THUMB

I’M RESIGNED TO BEING SHUNNED

DISAPPOINTMENT IF IT COMES

IF YOU COME MY HEART WILL POUND

EVEN AS YOU YOU SHOOT ME DOWN

IF WE NEED A DUELLING GROUND

THERE’S A DRY WASH SOUTH OF TOWN

08. THE BALLAD OF ELLEN HALL

WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND IN MY PRIME

KIND FORTUNE ON ME SMILED

MY PARENTS REARED ME TENDERLY

I BEING THEIR ONLY CHILD

BUT IT SEEMS FORTUNE HAS A WAY

OF TURNING ON ITS HEEL

MY PARENTS STEPPED OUT OF THIS WORLD

AND BY THEIR GRAVES I’D KNEEL

AT TWELVE I CAME TO LONDON TOWN

I LIVED ON BREAD AND ALE

THEN SOMEONE STOLE AN APPLE

FROM A COSTERMONGER’S PAIL

I WAS STOPPED BY A YOUNG CONSTABLE

HARD BY THE COSTER STALL

I SAID THE NAME I ANSWERED TO

WAS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

I SAID THE NAME I ANSWERED TO

WAS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

THOUGH I HAD NO SENSE OF A PLOT
OR HOW IT MIGHT UNFOLD
I CAME UNDER GREAT SCRUTINY
FROM MEN BOTH YOUNG AND OLD
AND WHEN I LOOKED INTO THEIR EYES
I SAW INTO THEIR SOULS
SOME DRINK FROM PIERIAN SPRINGS
MOST DRINK FROM FILTHY BOWLS

CONSTABLE CHRISTOPHER HAD WARNED

OF THOSE MEN AND THEIR WILES

YOU MUST PROCEED WITH CAUTION
THROUGH ST JOHN’S WOOD AND ST GILES

I WOULD HIDE A KNIFE FROM THE KITCHEN

UNDER MY RAGGED SHAWL

I WAS LESS FEARFUL FOR MY LIFE

THAN THAT OF ELLEN HALL

I WAS LESS FEARFUL FOR MY LIFE

THAN THAT OF ELLEN HALL

SO MANY MEN MADE AN ATTEMPT

SO MANY WOULD BE FOILED

ONE FROM THE HOUSEHOLD CAVALRY

WITH WHOM I’D BE EMBROILED

THE TALES MEN TELL TO MOST YOUNG GIRLS

ARE MOSTLY COCK AND BULL

BUT HIS JACKET SPOKE TRUE AS BLOOD

IT WAS DYED IN THE WOOL

AND I WOULD FIND NO LITTLE JOY

IN HIS CAVALRY TWILL

IT SAW ME THROUGH THE WINTER
I SPENT THERE ON LUDGATE HILL
FOR WHEN A CAVALRYMAN WANDERS

THROUGH THE STRAND AND PALL MALL

THE FACE HE’S SEEKING IN THE DARK

IS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

THE FACE HE’S SEEKING IN THE DARK

IS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

THIS WAS A WORLD IN WHICH A THREAT

WAS HARDLY EVER VEILED

BUT THE ETERNAL VERITIES
ETERNALLY CURTAILED

WILLIAM HAD SEEMED A DECENT SORT

I WAS UNDER HIS SPELL
YET HE’D BEEN COURTING MISS JANE LOCKE

LATELY OF TUNBRIDGE WELLS

THE AGITATION IN MY BRAIN
WAS MORE THAT I COULD QUELL
I KNEW HE’D COME FROM HASTINGS

HE’D RIDDEN FROM THERE PELL-MELL

FOR SOME REASON HE KEPT INSISTING
HE WAS STILL IN MY THRALL

HE YEARNED FOR NO ONE ELSE’S HEART

BUT THAT OF ELLEN HALL
HE YEARNED FOR NO ONE ELSE’S HEART

BUT THAT OF ELLEN HALL

HE’D FOLLOWED ME TO DRURY LANE

THOUGH MY ARDOR HAD COOLED

NOW HE HAD THE TEMERITY

TO SAY THAT HE’D BEEN FOOLED

BUT IT WAS WILLIAM PLAYED ME FALSE

HE WHO WAS FULL OF GUILE

SOME SAY THEY HEARD A TERRIBLE CRACK

WHEN HIS HEAD HIT A TILE

SOME SAY THEY SAW HIM COME IN CLOSE

TO GIVE ME AN EARFUL

SOME SAY THEY SAW GREY MATTER

ASEEPING FROM A SKULL

THEY SAY THEY COULD STILL HEAR HIM MUTTER

AS ON THE TILES HE’D SCRAWL

THE NAME HE WOULD WRITE OUT IN BLOOD

WAS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

THE NAME HE WOULD WRITE OUT IN BLOOD

WAS THAT OF ELLEN HALL

THE THING ON WHICH I STILL REMARK
IS MY NAME BEING MISPELT

I STILL HEAR HIS SAD ENTREATY
IT STILL MAKES MY HEART MELT
AS I HAD MELTED IN THE PAST
WHEN I HAD HEARD HIM WAIL
HE’D BEEN ACCOSTED BY TWO ROGUES

IN SWANKY MAIDA VALE

NOW I AM ROOTED TO THE SPOT

A BOW STREET PRISON CELL
WHERE I’M HALFWAY THROUGH DRYDEN’S
POEM ON ACHITOPHEL
TONIGHT I FEEL EVER MORE THREATENED
MY BACK IS TO THE WALL
AND I MUST PROVE I HAVE SUCH PLUCK
AS HAD THAT ELLEN HALL
AND I MUST PROVE I HAVE SUCH PLUCK
AS HAD THAT ELLEN HALL

TO THINK THAT THOSE ONCE MOST REVERED

ARE NOW THE MOST REVILED

THE DOCK I’LL TAKE QUITE MODESTLY

THOUGH I MAY BE WITH CHILD

FOR CAVALRYMEN HAVE A WAY

OF TURNING ON THEIR HEEL

SOMETIMES THEY PRESS THEMSELVES ON YOU

AND COME UP AGAINST STEEL

AS EVERY MAGISTRATE WELL KNOWS

A WOMAN CAN’T SEEM FRAIL

AS EVERY MAGISTRATE WELL KNOWS

A WOMAN CAN’T TURN TAIL

THAT’S WHY I STAYED IN DRURY LANE

STAYED IN THE PRINCE OF WALES

IT WAS TOO LATE FOR DOVER

MUCH TOO LATE TO BOARD THE MAIL

NOW I PRAY MY SERGEANT CHRISTOPHER

WILL CATCH ME IF I FALL

I PRAY I’LL MEET A KINDER FATE

THAN THAT OF ELLEN HALL

I PRAY I’LL MEET A KINDER FATE

THAN THAT OF ELLEN HALL

09. JULIUS CAESAR WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

JULIUS CAESAR WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

HE KNEW HOW PEOPLE FELT

HE KNEW IT TOOK A LITTLE COERCION

WHEN THE PEOPLE WERE THE CELTS

IN A MOUNTAIN PASS HE’D KICK SOME ASS

THEN HIGHTAIL IT BACK TO THE GYM

TILL THE TOP BRASS GOT FED UP EN MASSE

AND HAD THEIR KNIVES OUT FOR HIM

HE SHRANK FROM BRUTUS’S MILD ASPERSION

WITH AN ET TU, BRUTE, ET TU

JULIUS CAESAR WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

A PEOPLE PERSON LIKE YOU

MACHIAVELLI WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

WHOSE AMBITION WAS QUITE HUGE

YET HE STEERED CLEAR OF THE BOLD ASSERTION

AND WENT BY SUBTERFUGE

HE TRIED TO CONVINCE ANY WOULDBE PRINCE

HE MUST WORK BEHIND THE SCENES

THOUGH IT MADE HIM WINCE IT DIDN’T MATTER SINCE

THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS

HE WAS ALWAYS UP FOR A LITTLE SUBVERSION

AS IN PLOTTING A PALACE COUP

MACHIAVELLI WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

A PEOPLE PERSON LIKE YOU

AS I DROVE BACK FROM JFK

THE DAY YOU LEFT ME FOR BILL

I RECALLED YOUR EXPRESSING THE VAGARY

THAT YOU ADORED FRESHKILLS

ADOLPH HITLER AND SADDAM HUSSEIN

THEY BOTH LOVED A LANDFILL

SADDAM HUSSEIN AND IDI AMIN

THEY BOTH HAD YOUR PEOPLE SKILLS

JOSEPH STALIN WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

HE LIKED TO PUT HIS STAMP

ON PEOPLE HE SENT FOR AN EXCURSION

TO SOME FARFLUNG LABOR CAMP

THOUGH HE WONDERED WHY COLLECTIVES WOULDN’T FLY

HE HAD NO TRUCK WITH SELF-DOUBT

FIVE YEARS CAN GO BY IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE

WHEN THERE’S NO TIME TO LAZE ABOUT

THAT’S WHY HE FAVORED PHYSICAL EXERTION

FOR THE SOCIAL PARASITE AND JEW

JOSEPH STALIN WAS A PEOPLE PERSON

A PEOPLE PERSON LIKE YOU

10. UPHILL STRUGGLE

I’D HOPED TO BE LOST FOR WORDS
UNTIL I POP MY CLOGS
I’D HOPED TO FOLLOW THE HERD
IN GOING TO THE DOGS

I’VE FLIRTED WITH DISASTER
SINCE THAT BORN AGAIN PASTOR
WAS FOUND KICKING THE CASTERS

WITH ONE OF HIS FLOCK
I’D HOPED TO FOUNDER

WITH MY OWN FORTY POUNDER

AND RUN AGROUND THERE

ON THE SUBMERGED ROCK

ANYTIME I’VE TAKEN A SHOT I’VE MISSED
HITTING AN ORNITHOLOGIST
I’VE COURTED TROUBLE

BUT I CAN’T GET HER TO STAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

I’D HOPED TO HAVE COME TO NOUGHT

MY HOPES DASHED WITH MY DREAMS

I’D HOPED MY PRIVATE YACHT

WOULD BE FALLING APART AT THE SEAMS

I WENT OUT WITH THE BIRDERS

AND A SMALL GROUP OF CAT HERDERS

TO COMMIT AT LEAST ONE MURDER

BEFORE SHOOTING THE CROW

I’D HOPED I MIGHT HASTEN

BACK TO THE BOAT BASIN

WITH MY SPIRIT SOMEWHAT CHASTENED

BUT IT WAS A NO-GO

I TRIED TO VEER COMPLETELY OFF THE TRACKS

BUT NEVER DID ACQUIRE THE KNACK

I’VE COURTED TROUBLE

BUT I CAN’T GET HER TO STAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

I’D HOPED TO BE TEMPTING FATE
BUT FATE’S NOT GIVEN IN
I’D HOPED THE PROMISES I MADE

WOULD BE DYING ON THE VINE

I’VE FLIRTED WITH DISASTER

SINCE THE BIRDERS LAST GOT PLASTERED

WITH THE BURGOMASTER

OF THE HAGUE

I’D HOPED TO BE EXPLICIT

WHEN I TRIED TO SOLICIT

A KISS FROM JACQUELINE BISSET

BUT I WAS MUCH TOO VAGUE

THE NAKED PASTOR RUNS ACROSS THE LAWN

THE HUSBAND FOLLOWS HIS GUN DRAWN

BUT WHEN I’VE COURTED TROUBLE

I CAN’T GET HER TO STAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

IT’S BEEN AN UPHILL STRUGGLE

TO GO DOWNHILL ALL THE WA

11. THE RIDERS

SOME SIGH FOR THOSE NINE BEAN ROWS
SOME THE HEAVENLY ABODE
SOME SIGH FOR THE BINARY
SOME THE BINARY CODE

SOME LOAD A HERMAPHRODITE BRIG

WITH A CARGO OF TIN

SOME RIDE WITH QUANAH PARKER

SOME RIDE AGAINST THE WIND

AND THOSE OF US WHO’VE RIDDEN THE WHITE HORSE

IN OUR OWN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

NOW WEEP THAT HISTORY MUST RUN ITS COURSE

SOME SIGH FOR THE CAFÉ D’ALSACE

SOME FOR TELLING IT SLANT
SOME SIGH FOR BRAVE ULYSSES
SOME ULYSSES S. GRANT
SOME CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE FOR REAL

I THINK I’VE GOT YOU SUSSED

SOME RIDE UPON THE RAILROAD

FOR SOME IT RIDES ON US

SOME STILL SIGH FOR ART BLAKEY

SOME SIGH FOR HOW HE ROLLED

SOME SIGH FOR ACAPULCO

SOME ACAPULCO GOLD

SOME HOLD A PIERCING ON THEIR TONGUE

AND SOME A BURNING COAL

SOME RIDE IN ON A DONKEY

SOME RIDE OUT ON A POLE

AND THOSE OF US WHO’VE RIDDEN THE WHITE HORSE

IN OUR OWN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

NOW WEEP THAT HISTORY MUST RUN ITS COURSE

12. ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

YOU KNOW I’VE HEARD COUNT BASIE

I’VE HEARD SCREAMING LORD SUTCH

IT’S CLEAR THAT AN ARISTOCRAT

CAN HAVE THE COMMON TOUCH

I’M PRETTY SURE THE VISCOUNTS

RULED WITH AN IRON HAND

I’VE NOT BEEN TO SARAJEVO

BUT I’VE HEARD FRANZ FERDINAND

I’VE HEARD QUEEN I’VE HEARD THE KING

SO FAR AS I CAN SEE

YOU’RE THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

YOU’RE THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

I’VE HEARD NICKY AND THE NOBLES

I’VE HEARD THE BARRON KNIGHTS

SOME MUSICIANS SEEM TO THINK

THEY’VE A GODGIVEN RIGHT

I’VE EVEN HEARD THE ARTIST

FORMERLY KNOWN AS PRINCE

SOME SAY HE WAS A GENIUS

I’M PRETTY MUCH CONVINCED

I’VE HEARD QUEEN I’VE HEARD THE KING

SO FAR AS I CAN SEE

YOU’RE THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

YOU’RE THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

YOU KNOW I’VE HEARD THE MONARCHS

I’VE HEARD STEVE EARLE AND THE DUKES

I KNOW TYRANNOSAURUS REX

HAD SOME KILLER HOOKS

SOME PEOPLE SAY SIR NOEL COWARD

WOULD FOUND THE HOUSE OF GLAM

ALL I KNOW IS THE PHARAOHS

WERE LED BY SAM THE SHAM

I’VE HEARD QUEEN I’VE HEARD THE KING

SO FAR AS I CAN SEE

YOU’RE STILL THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

YOU’RE THE NEAREST THING

TO ROCK’N’ROLL ROYALTY

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE LOW LIFE

Rogue Oliphant is:

Songwriting credits for Highlights of the Low Life

The Lyrics

DISC 1

DISC 2

Soul Selects