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Hunky Dory Dec '71

Hunky Dory

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Release date: 
December 01, 1971
Total Tracks: 
11
Album image: 
Izzy Jay's picture

The Bewlay Brothers

on February 06, 2013
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And so the story goes they wore the clothes,
They said the things to make it seem improbable.
The whale of a lie like they hope it was
And the Goodmen of Tomorrow
Had their feet in the wallow
And their heads of Brawn were nicer shorn
And how they bought their positions with saccharin and
trust
The world was asleep to our latent fuss
Sighing, the swirl through the streets,
Like the crust of the sun,
The Bewlay Brothers
In our Wings that Bark
Flashing teeth of Brass
Standing tall in the dark
Oh, we were Gone
Hanging out with your Dwarf Man
We were so turned on
By your lack of Conclusions

I was Stone and he was Wax
So he could scream, and still relax, unbelievable
And we frightened the small children away
And our talk was old and dust would flow
Thru our veins and Lo! it was midnight
Back o' the kitchen door
Like the grim face on the Cathedral floor
And the solid book we wrote
Cannot be found today

It was Stalking time for Moonboys
The Bewlay Brothers
With our backs on the arch
In the Devil-may-be-here
But He can't sing about that
Oh, We were Gone
Real Cool Traders
We were so Turned On
You thought we were Fakers

Now the dress is hung, the ticket pawned
the Factor Max that proved the fact
Is melted down,
And woven on the edging of my pillow
Now my Brother lays upon the Rocks
He could be dead. He could be not,
He could be You.
He's Chameleon, Comedian Corinthian and Caricature
"Shooting-up Pie-in-the-Sky"
The Bewlay Brothers
In the feeble and the Bad
The Bewlay Brothers
In the Blessed and Cold
In the Crutch-hungry Dark
Was where we flayed our Mark
Oh, and we were Gone
Kings of Oblivion
We were so Turned On
In the Mind-Warp Pavilion

Lay me place and bake me Pie
I'm Starving for me Gravy
Leave my shoes, and door unlocked
I might just slip away
Just for the Day, Hey!
Please come Away, Hey!

Track number: 
11
Izzy Jay's picture

Queen Bitch

on February 06, 2013
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I'm up on the eleventh floor
And I'm watching the cruisers below
He's down on the street
And he's trying hard to pull sister Flo
Oh, my heart's in the basement
My weekend's at an all time low
'Cause she's hoping to score
So I can't see her letting him go
Walk out of her heart
Walk out of her mind.
Oh not her

She's so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that.

She's an old time ambassador
Of sweet talking, night walking games
Oh, and she's known in the darkest clubs
For pushing ahead of the dames
If she says she can do it
Then she can do it, she don't make false claims
For she's a Queen, and such are queens
That your laughter is sucked in their brains
Now she's leading him on
And she'll lay him right down
Bet it could have been me
Yes, it could have been me.
Why didn't I say, Why didn't I say, No, no, no

She's so swishy in her satin tat etc.

So I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
Oh the cot is so cold
It don't feel like no bed at all
Yeah I lay down a while
And I look at my hotel wall
But he's down on the street
So I throw both his bags down the hall
And I'm phoning a cab
'Cause my stomach feels small
There's a taste in my mouth
And it's no taste at all
It could have been me
Oh yeah, it could have been me
Why didn't I say, Why didn't I say, No, no, no

She's so swishy in her satin and tat etc.

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Track number: 
10
Izzy Jay's picture

Song For Bob Dylan

on February 06, 2013
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Hear this Robert Zimmerman
I wrote a song for you
About a strange young man called Dylan
With a voice like sand and glue
His words in truthful vengeance
They could pin us to the floor
Brought a few more people on
Put the fear in a whole lot more

Ah, Here she comes
Here she comes
Here she comes again
The same old painted lady
From the brow of the superbrain
She'll scratch this world to pieces
As she comes on like a friend
But a couple of songs
From your old scrapbook
Could send her home again

You gave your heart to every bedsit room
At least a picture on the wall
Sat behind a million pair of eyes
And told them how they saw
Then we lost your train of thought
The paintings are all your own
While troubles are rising
We'd rather be scared
Together than alone

Here she comes etc.

Now hear this Robert Zimmerman
Though I don't suppose we'll meet
Ask your good friend Dylan
If he'd gaze a while down the old street
Tell him we've lost his poems
So we're writing on the wall
Give us back our unity
Give us back our family
You're every nation's refugee
Don't leave us with their sanity

Here she comes etc.

Track number: 
9
Izzy Jay's picture

Andy Warhol

on February 06, 2013
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Like to take a cement fix
Be a standing cinema
Dress my friends up just for show
See them as they really are
Put a peephole in my brain
Two new pence to have a go
I'd like to be a gallery
Put you all inside my show

Andy Warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy Warhol, Silver Screen
Can't tell them apart at all

Andy walking, Andy tired
Andy take a little snooze
Tie him up when he's fast asleep
Send him on a pleasant cruise
When he wakes up on the sea
Be sure to think of me and you
He'll think about paint and he'll think about glue
What a jolly boring thing to do

Andy Warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy Warhol, Silver Screen
Can't tell them apart at all

Track number: 
8

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