I know guys who complain About their private ball and chain But I'm not one of those. When I take my woman on the scene The eyes of guys nearby turn green I'm a lucky man, I suppose But I've a problem, I can't lie It keeps me awake at night. In my sweet ointment, there's a fly Something not quite right When I try to be endearing The words I use to show I'm caring Get right up her nose. My woman's made a little list Of words she said I must resist No ifs, no buts, no maybe. Like 'pet' and 'duck' and 'chick' and 'bird' Those wicked twentieth century words I can't call my baby 'baby'. 'Little sweet' or 'cutie pie' Or 'darling honeybunch' Makes her feel objectified Or even part of lunch. Then she reminds me that She's not a mewling, infant brat I can't call my baby 'baby' 'Bunnikin' or 'little lamb', They're both well and truly banned I can't call my baby 'baby'. And 'sugar tits' - that's forbidden And 'tootsie-wootsie, little kitten'. I can't call my baby 'baby' With 'little goose' all hell breaks loose The same with 'snuggle bum' She won't reply to 'pussy pie' I have to bite my tongue 'My Babe' and 'Baby, Please Don't Go' So many songs I can't sing no mo' Now I can't call my baby 'baby'. When I say, 'Babe, gimme a smile' She says I sound like a paedophile I can't call my baby 'baby' And when I call her 'chickadee' She says, 'What's this, a menagerie?' I can't call my baby 'baby' But late at night, when things are hummin' And getting kinda hot. Whisp'ring 'darling adult woman' Just doesn't hit the spot Then when it's plain to see She's reached the point of ecstasy That's when I call my baby 'baby' (And she just loves it) Yes, I can call my baby 'baby'.

I'm in a God-forsaken city I'm in a God-forsaken bar. I just watched my team get beaten I just sold my old guitar. My woman's disappointed, My dog's gone off me too. So I'll just keep on drinking And work out what to do. I'm going to sit here on this bar-stool And close my eyes so tight Soon I'll begin to fade And I'll be out of sight Just like back in Star Trek I'm going to boldly go Into that third dimension Leave this sorry earth below. Disappear Away I'll fly Floating on the breeze Disappear Way up high Above the fields and the trees I shall be so happy In that great beyond Disappear Don't look for me I'll be gone, gone, gone. I'll be like Lord Lucan Or the crew of the Marie Celeste A mystery, an enigma, Where I've gone no one will guess. But I'll be out there somewhere Distant as a dream Drifting through the universe Checking out the scene. 'Cos up where the air is pure There's no envy, greed or lust Oh, there ain't no deadly sin within A floating piece of dust. There's no place in space for a sad face No blues in the Milky Way And you can't hear complaining When you're a trillion miles away CHORUS Oh the stars are shining oh so bright I'll wave as they fly past I'll leave my blues in the black hole of the night Free at last.... Maybe I'll find another planet Where I'll have an alien wife There my team will win every game And guitars will be for life. And late one summer's evening Beneath a crescent moon Floating on the warm night air You'll hear this little tune. CHORUS

I might take the blue pill, I might take the pink Too much on my mind, too much to think, I'm in deep, I can't get to sleep. The Footsie is falling, the currency's weak My holiday plans are all up the creek I know, I'll turn on the radio. They say that refugees are at the border again Swarming like flies on my window-pane, That grieves me in ways I can't begin to describe They're spoiling my sleep, crashing my vibe, It's no use - I've got the first world blues. The newsreader says the next report might Upset me a little - and by God, he's right No shit, I don't like it one bit. It comes from a place where they maim and behead, I've heard enough, I get out of bed, Go next door, and catch a TV show. I've got cable subscriptions on my HD TV I can watch things you wouldn't normally see But when I hit the remote, I turn on the washing-machine, My brand new white shirt's going to come out green Oh no - I've got the first world blues. In the third world, they don't need this stuff. They may not have much, but they've got enough, Living their crazy third world lives, Lots of third world children, lots of third world wives. My therapist says I've become self-obsessed She says I do what I like and just hope for the best The old bag. It's just nag nag nag. But when there's an earthquake, I try to donate, When I go to my church, I put some change in the plate, I'm just saying, it's always me who's paying. There's a reason they're third, some might conclude - They don't go to the gym, they don't eat the right food And while that may be terribly sad It don't do any good me feeling bad, I got the first world blues. I can't get a signal for my mobile phone, Yet thousands of voices won't leave me alone In my brain, sharing their third world pain. But not one of them knows just who I am, All my troubles and cares, they don't give a damn. I'm sitting here worrying 'bout what they're going through, I think they should know that I'm suffering too... With my first world blues. (Living their crazy third world lives) I've got the first world blues.

Our loving cup has recently been running rather dry Something's missing in your life, I'm almost sure. To cheer you up, I've thought of something you might like to try It's an old traditional cure... Maybe you should have an affair With some good-looking younger guy He'll be slightly dumb But with a pert little bum That one day catches your eye. At first, it won't be an affair But you'll both soon discover That your heart-to-hearts Start to lead to parts Conversation doesn't quite cover. One night you'll be beside him, together in his car He said he'll drive you home because it's dark. You'll stop to talk things over in a local public bar Then suddenly you're at in the pub car park. You'll think that it's not serious, it's just a bit of fun As you teach your young dog new tricks. But soon you'll find you're doing things that you haven't done Since 1996. I'll know all about your affair It will be so plain to see From the swing in your hips And the smile on your lips I'll just know wasn't put there by me. But I'll be cool about your affair I won't sulk or go berserk I'll stay safe and sound On the moral high ground While you're out, doing all the work. And he'll want it when he sees you, before you've time to think He'll want to have you right there and then. And you'll have had a busy day and you'll be dying for a drink, You'll be thinking to yourself, 'Here we go again.' And he'll take to the heights and then he'll take you higher Your deep and secret passions try to stir. He'll be clambering up a mountain peak of personal desire When an amble in the foothills is what you'd prefer. You'll wonder about your affair All the lies you have to tell And the stab of shame As you give a false name Checking in at a Novotel. When he tells you how much cares All the things about you he misses You'll begin to feel Like a hamster on a wheel On a grim treadmill of kisses. And I'll see it in the way you look, I'll hear it in your sighs As you lie awake beside me in the night And part of me will watch you with a heart as cold as ice While the other part will long to reach and hold you tight. But we'll keep it all together, as married couples do, Because I love you and I'll never let you go But now and then alone when it's just me and you We'll look at one another and we will know. Maybe you should have an affair With some good-looking younger guy He'll be slightly dumb But with a pert little bum That one day catches your eye.

There's a hipster dude on the TV again One of the new folk tribe He's singing a song of the world's pain He must be all of 25. He's got a little cloth cap and a face all glum As he does the traditional bit And a big brown beard, he might have come From a make-your-own-folkie kit. Who did he sleep with? Some DJ? Maybe Daddy's on the board. With that Martin guitar he thinks he can play And those fancy little chords. And look at those girls in the front row Those wide-eyed teenage chicks There's gonna be a party after the show And that bastard could take his pick Not that I am bitter, Not that I give a damn I'm just sitting here in my old armchair With the thoughts of an average man. I could do that if I'd had had the luck And a little more time to think If I hadn't got married, if I hadn't had kids Maybe a little less to drink I'm saying I could do that if I'd got off my ass And practised some of them chords I could have been me, up there on TV I'd be playing up a storm... The guys ask me every day when we'll re-form the band The wife used to love the way I played, she called me 'Slow-Hand' But I'm just sitting here, drinking my beer With the thoughts of an average man And then he'll be on Children in Need He'll be that year's pop star who cares Showing the world how his heart bleeds As he flies First Class in tears. Then he'll be snapped in a villa on Lake Como With his supermodel wife And I'll still be here watching the show And I will for the rest of my life Not that I am bitter, Not that I give a damn I'm just sitting here in my old armchair With the thoughts of an average man.

I'm not a fan of love songs I've heard them all before When it comes to talking the talk I believe that less is more But sometimes a man has to show the hand He's going to deal So here is an English love song To show just how I feel. I know how to love my good old guitar I give thanks for it each day. But when we're alone and you look in my eyes I can't think of a thing to say. If you like bouquets and those tired old clichés I'm afraid I'm not the one But I've written an English love song To get the damn' thing done. It's not that I'm frozen, It's not that I'm proud In my own little way I care But when words are spoken, Or sung out aloud They just seem to vanish into the air. I'm not going buy you a Valentine's card 'Cos I always forget the date Or a dinner for two by candlelight When you can't see what's on your plate. Chocolates melt and flowers wilt And so instead I've written an English love song To say what needs to be said Some hearts are open Each feeling exposed But that never worked when I tried I was quietly hoping To keep this one closed With you and me on the inside. So there you go, now you know I can't sing romantic things All those love-ya-baby's, all those down-on-my -knees, All that wind beneath my wings. Maybe it's best to leave unexpressed What's really true. And this English love song Is the best that I can do. Just a little English love song Sent from me to you

Let's hear it for easy listening The soft and the smooth You won't know what you've been missing Until you're in that mellow groove Let's hear it for the middle of the road Not to the left, not to the right Who needs a musical highway code When you can keep it light? Rock and to roll's too fast these days And jazz is way too cool Folk's too stuck in its folky ways For an easy listening fool. Let's hear it for swinging along Swaying like a leaf in a tree You find the tune of a little song And add some harmonies SOLO Rock and to roll's too fast these days And jazz is way too cool Folk's too stuck in its folky ways Too many lines, too many rules. That's why I believe in easy listening So soft and smooth You'll soon find out what you've been missing When you're in that mellow ... groooove

Hot dog, hallelujah, I feel so fine I been hangin' out with some friends of mine We been workin' for the man - now we cuttin' loose We may be English but darn right we got the blues We got Howlin' Wolf Perkins, he's my blues brother Honeyboy Pilkington and Catfish Carruthers They call me Blind Boy Waddington- Bruce I can see just fine but darn right I got the blues. We ain't got no Mississippi, ain't got no moonshine But we got our guitars and some nice chilled wine And a room in a pub that they done gone let us use It's like our own private delta, man - darn right we got the blues. Since we found the blues, we won't ever go back We can talk like an American and pretend that we're black. Roll over Britannia and tell the BBC news We may be English but darn right we got the blues. I love that jelly jelly jelly, I have it with my tea I got my mojo workin' whatever that might be And you can squeeze my lemons - I really like lemon juice I'm so damned authentic, and darn right I got the blues. I can sing about them cotton fields and call my music 'roots' But the nearest I've been to cotton is buying cotton-buds in Boots I don't pay it no mind - I got a perfect excuse I may be English but darn right I got the blues You may think I'm respectable and you may be right But when I got home from work each and every night. I loosen my tie and kick off my shoes And say, 'Lordy, I'm English, but darn right I got the blues.' Yes I may be English but darn right I got those good ole backyard, down-home, walking-the-dog, dust-my-broom, salty dog English blues.

I'm tired of being Mr Reliable A solid guy so full of sympathy Now I'm Mr Certifiable Let's talk for a while about me... I want to be complicated I'm going to share around my pain I'll be all agonised and agitated In my poor, fevered brain. When you're feeling happy, I'll be in a mood, I'll be underhand and over-sexed, foul-mouthed and crude. Neglectful of my hygiene, weird about my food, That's little old complicated me. I'll be oh so complicated I'll be screwed up and repressed You'll all be fascinated As to why I'm such a mess. There's not a thing I won't have taken, booze and dope and pill I'll be addicted to addiction, in thrall to every thrill It's a miracle that what I've done never seems to kill Little old complicated me. Some say I was molested at a tender age Some say I've just transvesting, I'm at that bi-gender stage Some say I'm on the spectrum, that's why I'm insecure But I say I crave affection, I need more more more more. And my women will be complicated With chequered histories. They'll be resentful, mad, frustrated They'll be even worse than me Our affairs will be desperate - intense and brief and doomed With seedy liaisons in dingy hotel rooms Before yet another break-up in floods of tears and gloom From little old complicated me. Late at night you'll get a call from the local A & E There's been a fight, maybe a fall, and you'll just know it's me. And sometimes when you really need me, I'll be nowhere to be found 'Cos one thing is guaranteed - I'll always let you down (Because) I'm so goddamned complicated You'll hear it in my songs They may make you feel nauseated But you'll still come along. And as you watch me up here, bleeding on the stage, You'll say that it's a shame I refuse to act my age But deep down you'll be loving all the pain and rage From little old complicated me. That's little old complicated me. Little old... but enough about me What do you think of.... Little old complicated me?

Well here's a little story from yesterday When I was living in Paris in France I was asked one day if I'd like to play Some tunes at a private dance. So I took my good old Jap guitar To a flat off the Champs Elysée What happened that night Is as clear and bright As if it happened yesterday. I was strumming away and singing my songs Like a regular one-man band They were drinking and a-flirting and a-singing along When things got a little out of hand Someone said 'A poil!'- that was the call To take off all the clothes they had worn They shed their pants as they danced until one and all Were naked as the day that they were born. There were couples on the floor Wall-to-wall amour But the band played on There was moaning, groaning, neighbours phoning But the band played on Someone tried to cop a feel I used my guitar as a shield She was coming on a little too strong I was all on my own at a high-tone orgy But the band played on Well it's fine being young and wild and free But soon you'll find you want a little more So I woke one day with a family First two, then three, then four. The family grew and so did the noise Until the fact of the matter was plain A man and a woman and a girl and a boy Can make a noise like a hurricane. I was living with my kin in the tin of sardines We called the family home From the twos to the teens and the years in-between I could never ever be alone. I was dad going mad with nowhere to turn At the end of my tether, I suppose. Then I remembered the lesson that I once learned At a party when I wore no clothes. (Now there was) Trouble in the kitchen Brawlin', bitchin' But the band played on There were tempers flaring, TV blaring But the band played on Guinea pigs, screamin' kids, did you hear what the teacher did? Try to keep on smiling all along While I cared for my dear little nuclear fam'ly The band played on. Well, the years flew by, it's the same old story Like you're told, getting old is a bitch One time, you're in your prime and you're driving for glory The next you're in the bottom of a ditch Lost my youth, lost my brain, lost my hair down the drain, I've been losing bits of me along the way But when I get to wait at those pearly gates There'll be just one thing I can say. Through the wind and the rain And the trouble and the pain. The band played on. Flying, crashing, losing all my cash-in The band played on Buy and sell, kiss and tell, round and round the carousel 'Cos life's just a crazy carry-on Right or wrong I sang my song And the band played on Right or wrong I sang my song And the band played on  

He's a little short of breath and a little short of bread, Quite a few of his friends these days are dead. There's been a few bumps along the road The odd wrong turning and his pace has slowed But he kept his eyes on the way ahead. She's been a little more married than she'd advise She always ends up with the wrong kind of guys. 'Though she'll admit she's not much of a picker With the help of her friends and a little strong liquor She's still got that light in her eyes. And we're still searching for that heart of gold In the windmills of our mind We're still singing lie-la-lie-la-lie-lie-lie And looking for the home we hope we'll find. Some have gone too fast, some too slow Some aimed too high, some fell too low Most of them shed a few ideals And kept on truckin' though they'd lost their wheels They were always the last to know. Once they were the children of the sun Making love not war, forever young. As the years grow dim over their shoulder They didn't grow wise as they grew older But their song is still being sung. Chorus. The times are a-changin', we used to say It was true back then and it's true today So let's sing a song of celebration For my g-g-g-generation Before we all f-f-fade away Chorus.

When the winter days are done And spring is coming through, When the earth's warmed by the sun, I'll be there with you. When the early morning light Sparkles on the dew, When everything is green and bright, I'll be there with you. And with the buzzing of the bees Flying from flower to flower, On the scent of the summer breeze, Through the lazy hours, The skylark sings his lonely song Up in a sky so blue. When life is good and days are long, I'll be there with you. And when the wild October winds Chill you to the bone, As the nights are closing in, You won't be alone. By the fire that warms your heart, Its flame so hard and true, Though we may be far apart, I'll be there with you.