All The Young Dudes
Well, Billy rapped all night about his suicide
How he'd kick it in the head when he was twenty-five
Speed jive, don't want to stay alive when you're twenty-five
And Wendy's stealing clothes from Marks and Sparks
And Freddy's got spots from ripping off the stars
From his face funky little boat race
Television man is crazy saying we're juvenile delinquent wrecks
I need TV when I got T-Rex you've guessed, I'm a dude
All the young dudes carry the news
Boogaloo dudes carry the news
Now Lucy looks sweet because he dresses like a queen
But he can kick like a mule, it's a real mean team
But we can love we can love
And my brother's back at home with his Beatles and his Stones
We never got it off on that revolution stuff
What a drag too many snags
Now I've drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine got to race some cat to bed
Is there concrete all around or is it in my head I'm a dude
All the young dudes carry the news
Boogaloo dudes carry the news
The Golden Age Of Rock 'n' Roll
Ladies and Gentlemen, the golden age of rock and roll...
Everybody hazy, shell-shocked and crazy screaming for the face at the window
Jeans for the genies, dresses for the dreamies fighting for a place in the front row
It's good for your body, it's good for your soul
It's the golden age of rock and roll
Well you getta little buzz, send for the fuzz guitars getting higher and higher
The dude in the paint thinks he's gonna faint stoke more coke on the fire
You gotta stay young, you can never grow old
It's the golden age of rock and roll
The golden age of rock and roll will never die
As long as children feel the need to laugh and cry
Don't wanna smash want a smash sensation
Don't wanna wreck just recreation
Don't wanna fight but if you turn us down
We're gonna turn you around gonna mess with the sound
The show's gotta move, everybody groove there ain't no trouble on the streets now
So if the going gets rough don't you blame us you ninety-six decibel freaks
It's good for your body, it's good for your soul
It's the golden age of rock and roll
You gotta stay young, you can never grow old
It's the golden age of rock and roll
Death May Be Your Santa Claus
How long before you realise you swing
How long before you realise you sting
From the good to the bad to the ugly change
How long before you start to rearrange
How long how long before you realise that all's strange
How long will it take to turn you around
How long will it take to bend you down
It makes you believe in the real exchange
How long will it take for me to rearrange
How long how long before you realise that all's strange
Well I don't care what the people may say
I don't give a toss anyway
I don't care what the people may say
I don't care what the people may say
I don't give a toss anyway
I don't care what the people may say
How long before you realise what you missed
How long before we we get out and may get pissed
You get all the books from the Corn Exchange really mad at this outrage
How long how long before you realise that all's strange
How long how long
Won't you tell me how long
Won't you tell me how long
Won't you tell me how long
Won't you tell me how long
How long will it take how long will it take
Where Do You All Come From
Where do you all come from I gotta find you out
Makes you feel any heads you can heal my God you're upside down
And I heard all you green gods are all jeering a bound my God don't they get around
Now where did you get that hat your religion should/would be proud of that
You can stand it on high like a flag in the sky while your pilgrim's all got stoned on that
We'll share a thousand mirrors and a beautiful view and everybody talking about you
Where did you get those clothes off a streetcar I suppose
You gotta be cool to look like a fool you ain't exactly smelling like a rose
And everybody's asking everybody out there Find Out
Where do you all come from where do you all come from?
Thank you for reason Ralph J. Gleason for you I'll sing my song
Now the revolution's coming and I just can't wait excuse me, but I'm too tired and it's late
Where do you all come from where do you all come from?
All your integrity's gone Now Tell me, where do you all come from?
(Do You Remember) The Saturday Gigs
Sixty-nine was cheapo wine have a good time what your sign?
Float up to the Roundhouse on a Sunday afternoon. in Seventy we all agreed
A King's Road flat was the place to be because Chelsea girls are the best in the world for company.
In Seventy-one all the people come bust a few seats but it's just in fun
Take the Mick out of Top of the Pops we play better than they do
In Seventy-two we was born to lose we slipped down snakes into yesterday's news
I was ready to quit but then we went to Croydon
Do you remember the Saturday gigs we do, we do
Do you remember the Saturday gigs we do, we do
The tickets for the fantasy were twelve and six a time
A fairy tale on sale Seventy-Three was a jamboree
We were the dudes and the dudes were we
Did you see the suits and the platform boots in Seventy-four on the Broadway tour
We didn't much like dressing up no more don't wanna be hip but thanks for a great trip.
Do you remember the Saturday gigs we do, we do
Do you remember the Saturday gigs we do, we do
But now the kids pay a couple of quid because they need it just the same
It's all a game a grown-up game
But you got off on those Saturday gigs and we did, we did
Because you got off on those Saturday gigs and we did, we did
And we got off on those Saturday gigs and you did, you did
And we got off on those Saturday gigs because you did, you did
Don't you ever forget us we'll never forget you
We're going to sleep now you better be good, right
See you next time so long for now
The Road To Birmingham
His feet lay heavy on the road that led to Birmingham
Unseeing eyes, defeated cries, the mysteries of men.
Many hears, the helpless tears that leave the troubled brow
A man once tall, he fought them, but he is older now.
For in your youth, you think the truth will always win the game
Some men are kings, some men are rook, some men are pawns to blame
But if your skin is colored black, well the dice are hidden in
The minds of fools who twist the rules, so you can never win
Birmingham, Birmingham, underneath your face
There's nothing but a space you're hollow.
Unlighted sky, begins to cry, the shabby coat is weak
And homes with windows dressed in warmth, and mouths that never speak
His mind is dead, his visions spread that pass before his feet
And thankfully he wears that dream that shields him from the street
Goodnight my friend, this is the end, you'll never cry again
You'll never have to smile away the bastards and the pain
Is it too late, or can you wait to take another turn
And walk together down that road that leads to Birmingham
Birmingham, Birmingham, underneath your face
There's nothing but a space inside you.
Birmingham, Birmingham, underneath your face
There's nothing but a space you're hollow
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