Privateering

Créditos del album

Mark Knopfler: voces, guitarras eléctricas, slide y acústicas
Richard Bennett: guitarras, bouzouki y tiple
Jim Cox: piano y órgano
Guy Fletcher: teclados y voz
John McCusker: violín y cítara
Mike McGoldrick: silbidos y flautas uilleann
Phil Cunningham: acordeón
Glenn Worf: bajo eléctrico y vertical
Ian Thomas: batería
Kim Wilson: arpa
Tim O’Brien: mandolina y voz
Paul Franklin: pedal de acero
Ruth Moody: voz
Rupert Gregson-Williams: voz
Chris Botti: trompeta
Nigel Hitchcock: saxofón
John Charnec: clarinete

Arreglos de cuerdas por Mark Knopfler y Guy Fletcher
Dirección de cuerdas por Rupert Gregson-Williams

Todas las canciones escritas por Mark Knopfler
Excepto «Miss You Blues», letra de Mark Knopfler, melodía «Deep Blue Sea»: trad arr Knopfler
Publicado por Hornall Bros Music Ltd / Will D Side Ltd

Producido por Mark Knopfler
Coproducido por Guy Fletcher y Chuck Ainlay
Diseñado por Chuck Ainlay y Guy Fletcher
Masterizado por Bob Ludwig en Gateway mastering Studios, Portland, Maine

Fotografía de portada de Johnnie Pilkington
Fotografía adicional de Guy Fletcher
Diseño de Mark Knopfler y Salvador Design
Diseño de portada por Big Fish

Redbud Tree
Hunted down, I came upon
A place of ferns and grass
Gathered to a redbud tree
And now their footsteps pass
Where I crouch in dread
Discovery my certain death
Her leaves reaching for my head
As I suspend my breath

Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me
Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me

Those days of fear are gone
Yet I am pledged to her
As to my only one
My lovely protector

Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me
Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me
Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me
Redbud tree, shelter me, shelter me
/su_spoiler]

Haul Away
It was a windless night when you left the ship
You never were a steady bold one
I gave my hand, ah, but you did slip
I’m a living man and you’re a cold one
Haul away, haul away for home

My love’s as fair as a girl can be
My wedding ring is a heavy gold one
Now you lie alone in the deep dark sea
I’m a living man and you’re a cold one
Haul away, haul away for home

The morning brings, Lord, a fresh young breeze
To fill our sails and end the doldrums
Our lucky ship speeds across the sea
I’m a living man and you’re a cold one
Haul away, haul away for home

Don’t Forget Your Hat
Well, look out the window
Never saw so much rain
You better get down to the station
If you want to catch that train
So long, I guess that’s that
Hey, hey, don’t forget your hat

Well, you don’t call the action
You don’t make the rules
You don’t pay the piper
You don’t even pay the fuel
So long, I guess that’s that
Hey, hey, don’t forget your hat

Well, it’s a big old world out there
Go get it if you can
You got a ways to go
Before you get to be a man
So long, I guess that’s that
Hey, hey, don’t forget your hat

Privateering
Yon’s my privateer
See how trim she lies
To every man a lucky hand
And every man a prize
I live to ride the ocean
The mighty world around
To take a little plunder
And to hear the cannon sound
To lay with pretty women
To drink Madeira wine
To hear the rollers thunder
On a shore that isn’t mine

Privateering we will go
Privateering, yo ho ho ho
Privateering we will go
Yo ho ho, yo ho ho

The people on your man o’ war
Are treated worse than scum
I’m no flogging captain
And by God I’ve sailed with some
Come with me to Barbary
We’ll ply there up and down
Not quite exactly
In the service of the Crown
To lay with pretty women
To drink Madeira wine
To hear the rollers thunder
On a shore that isn’t mine

Privateering we will go
Privateering, yo ho ho ho
Privateering we will go
Yo ho ho, yo ho ho

Look’ee there’s my privateer
She’s small but she can sting
Licensed to take prizes
With a letter from the King
I love the streets and taverns
Of a pretty foreign town
Tip my hat to the dark-eyed ladies
As we sally up and down
To lay with pretty women
To drink Madeira wine
To hear the rollers thunder
On a shore that isn’t mine

Privateering we will go
Privateering, yo ho ho ho
Privateering we will go
Yo ho ho, yo ho ho

Britannia needs her privateers
Each time she goes to war
Death to all her enemies
Though prizes matter more
Come with me to Barbary
We’ll ply there up and down
Not quite exactly
In the service of the Crown
To lay with pretty women
To drink Madeira wine
To hear the rollers thunder
On a shore that isn’t mine

Privateering we will go
Privateering, yo ho ho ho
Privateering we will go
Yo ho ho, yo ho ho
/su_spoiler]

Miss You Blues
Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn’t what you’d do
Didn’t leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Who’s gonna take your place, fill your shoes?
Who’s gonna take your place, fill your shoes?
You never used to look behind you, that isn’t what you’d do
Didn’t leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn’t what you’d do
Didn’t leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Walk alone down the avenue
Walk alone down the avenue
You never used to look behind you, that isn’t what you’d do
Didn’t leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn’t what you’d do
Didn’t leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Corned Beef City
Early in the morning
Going to meet a man
Wants a truck unloading
For cash-in-hand
You don’t ask questions
When there’s nothing in the bank
Got to feed the kids
And put the diesel in the tank

Bacon, egg and sausage
Double chips and beans
Tea and bread and butter
And a day on the machines
Christmas is coming
With the final demand
What you got going
For cash in hand

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Early in the morning
Where the trucks all stand
I’ve got a pocket full of folding
And a pair of jerry cans
I’ve got to keep it going
They’re laying off at Ford
I’m only one step ahead
Of my room and board

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Early in the morning
Going to meet a man
Wants a truck unloading
For cash-in-hand
You don’t ask questions
When there’s nothing in the bank
Got to feed the kids
And put the diesel in the tank

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Go, Love
I had to leave for certain
I like to come back now and then
Maybe I’m just returning
So I can leave again

The wind comes softly blowing
From the cold grey sea
She leans into my collar
Starts whispering to me

Go, love, if you’re going
You keep looking down the track
Go, love, if you’re going
I’ll be here when you come back

Go, love, if you’re going
Go, love, if you’re going

So go, love, if you’re going
Don’t stay on account of me
Go, love, if you’re going
If that’s the way it’s got to be

Go, love, if you’re going
You keep looking down the track
Go, love, if you’re going
I’ll be here when you come back

Go, love, if you’re going
Go, love, if you’re going
/su_spoiler]

Hot or What
She came on the river
With a gift for me
I’m in way deep
That’s how it has to be
It’s hot in the desert
But I’m cool in the zone
People call me lucky
But I say you make your own

I’m on a roll
Yeah, I’m on a roll
I’m runnin’ hot
Baby, am I hot or what?

This is outrageous
I got all kinds of stuff
Can I dodge bullets
And can I bluff
Hot shots keep on a’ coming
Looking for a fight
But the names are going down
To the left and to the right

And I’m on a roll
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m on a roll
I’m runnin’ hot
Baby, am I hot or what?

It gets dark at night
That’s how it goes
It gets cold in winter
Don’t be surprised if it snows
You wanna play Hold’em
With my friend Mr Chan
If you lose your stack, well
You sure can’t blame the man

Ha! ha! ha!
Ha! ha! ha!
I’m runnin’ hot
Baby, am I hot or what?

They play with me a while
I’ll read ’em like a book
Let’s go have a drink or two
And talk about the scalps I took
I got a big old stack
I had me a big old day
Tomorrow I go back
Gonna take it all the way

‘Cos I’m on a roll
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m on a roll
I’m runnin’ hot
Baby, am I hot or what?
I said I’m runnin’ hot, baby
Baby, am I hot or what?

Yon Two Crows
Pennies from heaven
Don’t make me laugh
Here all you’ll get
Is the pattering rain
Or yon two crows up over the hill
Looking for winterkill
Always at your boots
The mud behind the byre
With its clammy hold
Would mock you up a grave
Here in the mire of a wrecked sheepfold

And all you’ll bring to this
Is muscle and grit
Persistence, that’s just about it
What made you think
There’d be a living in sheep?
Eat, work, eat, work and sleep

Duck under the eaves
Of the bothy
To sit here, caged by rain
Somewhere to go conjure
A next move
When I have to think again
The dog lifts his gaze to plead
Believes the wizard has a magic stick
Leans his weight into my tweed
I give an unholy hand to lick

I take a swig of sheep dip
From my flask
And once again I ask
What made you think
There’d be a living in sheep?
Eat, work, eat, work and sleep

They were at this game
Two hundred years ago
Had thirty ways
Of dying young, poor souls
Laid to rest in their soggy rows
Rain on their holy books
Blood and whisky
On the tongue
And no-one watching over anyone
No-one left but your stubborn one
And the crows and rooks

Ah, the dying young
Well I’m not done
You watch me and I’ll watch thee
I can still work for two men
And drink for three

And I raise my flask
To the clearing skies
To you, sweepers
You carrion spies
To scavenge and survive
If you can do it so can I

Seattle
Above the bar the TVs are showing the game
But we’re not watching it, we’re hardly focussing
Through the windows in the fading day
1st Avenue is turning grey
Do you ever look at me and see another man
Let’s get two more beers and try to make a plan
Sometimes it feels as though I have a key
But every time I try it it won’t turn for me
Seattle – you’ve got to love the rain
And we both love rain
We both love rain

We watched the city skyline from the ferry deck
And you put your arms around my neck
We talked of looking just out of town
Now it’s looking like a dream shot down
I still believe that there’s somewhere for us
But now it’s something that we don’t discuss
And you’re the best thing I ever knew
Stay with me, baby, and we’ll make it to
We’ll make it to
Seattle – you’ve got to love the rain
And we both love rain
We both love rain
Seattle – I want you just the same
And we both love rain
We both love rain

/su_spoiler]

Kingdom of Gold
The high priest of money looks down on the river
The dawn coming up on his kingdom of gold
When the rim of the sun sends an arrow of silver
He prays to the gods of the bought and the sold

He turns to his symbols, his ribbons of numbers
They circle and spin on their mystical scroll
He looks for a sign while the city still slumbers
And the ribbons and the river forever unroll
In his kingdom of gold, his kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold, his kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold

On the horizon an enemy haven
Sends traces of smoke high up into the sky
A pack of dog jackals and a rabble of ravens
Who’ll come for his fortress, his castle on high
In his kingdom of gold, kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold, his kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold

His axes and armour will conquer these devils
The turbulent raiders will falter and fall
Their leaders be taken, their camps burned and levelled
They’ll hang in the wind from his citadel walls
In his kingdom of gold, kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold, kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold

Got To Have Something
Well if you ain’t got whiskey
Don’t tell me that you ain’t got gin
If you ain’t got whiskey
Don’t tell me that you ain’t got gin
Well I got to have something
Need to get my medicine

Well I can play your fish fry
Play for change in town
I can play your fish fry
I can play for change in town
Well I got to have something
Keep me from going down

Well let me play you one thing
Somebody must have just got paid
Yeah, let me play you one thing
Somebody must have just got paid
Well I got to have something
Even if I don’t get laid

Yes, if you ain’t got whiskey
Don’t tell me that you ain’t got gin
If you ain’t got whiskey
Don’t tell me that you ain’t got gin
Well I got to have something
Need to get my medicine
Yeah, I got to have something
Need to get my medicine

Radio City Serenade
You’ve got to have no credit cards
To know how good it feels
The howling of the bridges
The sidewalks bound with steel
Sitting on the sidewalk
With a party to arrange
May you never change

I stay out when I want to
Still she takes me back
Don’t know another girl
Would cut me so much slack
Every wounded soldier
Needs a lady with a light
To help him through the night

So blow a kiss to Radio City
My forever silhouette
Oh, you are so pretty
My beautiful Rockette
You’ve got my arms
And the crosstown horns
Going on – we’ve got it going on

Have I got you a river view
This one tops the list
Got a head full of you
And Irish Mist
I know I owe it
To the lady by the sea
Who still looks out for me

So blow a kiss to Radio City
My forever silhouette
Oh, you are so pretty
My beautiful Rockette
You’ve got my arms
And the crosstown horns
Going on – we’ve got it going on

You’ve got my arms
And the crosstown horns
Going on – we’ve got it going on
We’ve got it going on

I Used To Could
Well, all down the 40 I never used to lift
Thirteen gears, double clutch shift
All those horses underneath the hood
I don’t do it no more but I used to could

GMC Cannonball going like a train
All down the 40 in the driving rain
All those horses underneath the hood
I don’t do it no more but I used to could

Well I don’t hang around ’cause it ain’t no good
Like the big bad wolf in the neighborhood
Chasin’ after Little Red Riding Hood
I don’t do it no more but I used to could

Gator Blood
Hammer on a skillet up they come
Showman whanging on a ballyhoo drum
Watch out, people I’m a greedy man
Swallowed all the fishes in the frying pan
Blood, gator blood, I got gator blood

Chicken on a hotplate gobbledegook
Come on up, honey and take a look
Mighty fine weather this time of year
Shake a tail feather you chicken you hear
Blood, gator blood, I got gator blood

Chicken on a hotplate it’s gonna dance
Gonna lose these chickens my first chance
Don’t you know I’m a flim flam man
A chicken show it ain’t worth a damn
Gator blood, I got gator blood

I got a country boy, he’s a bird who sings
Butter paddle, buck ‘n wing
Kid’s got a winner bonafide hit
I’m gonna have my dinner on a spit
Blood, gator blood, I got gator blood

Hoopla, humbug, howdy-do
Gonna make you into chicken stew
Alligator in the mud
Don’t you know I got gator blood
Gator blood, I got gator blood

Never lend a dollar to your good friend Tom
Hogwash Holler is where he’s from
If you got treasure all in a vault
And he gets you, baby that’s your own fault
Gator blood, I got gator blood

Bluebird
Got crows in my pasture
Rats in my barn
Crows in my pasture, babe
Rats in my barn
If I was you, little bluebird
I’d up and find another farm

I’ve got nightshade in my meadow
Ragweed in my corn
Nightshade in my meadow
And ragweed in my corn
If I was you, little bluebird
I’d be long gone

Yes, I got squirrels in my rafters
Weevils in my hay
Squirrels in my rafters
Weevils in my hay
If I was you, little bluebird
I’d up and fly away
Fly away, baby

Dream of the Drowned Submariner
We run along easy at periscope depth
Sun dappling through clear water
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Far away from the slaughter

Your hair is a strawflower that sings in the sun
My darling, my beautiful daughter
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Cast away on the water

From down in the vault, down in the grave
Reaching up to the light on the waves

So she did run to him over the grass
She fell in his arms and he caught her
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Far away on the water
Far away on the waterWe run along easy at periscope depth
Sun dappling through clear water
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Far away from the slaughter

Your hair is a strawflower that sings in the sun
My darling, my beautiful daughter
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Cast away on the water

From down in the vault, down in the grave
Reaching up to the light on the waves

So she did run to him over the grass
She fell in his arms and he caught her
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Far away on the water
Far away on the water

Blood and Water
Blood and water bound to overflow
Blood and water bound to overflow
Well there’s no more high water
But the Old Man’s just waiting, I know

He was sent up on the levee
Now they’ve gone up country
They won’t do nothing for you now
And don’t go asking me
They’ve gone – it’s all over here
Sometimes I’d see her passing
With the evening coming on
I’ve seen you on her pathway
I’ve seen you at dawn
Look over yonder at that empty shack
You know as well as I do
They ain’t coming back
They’re gone – it’s all over here

Blood and water bound to overflow
Blood and water bound to overflow
Well there’s no more high water
But the Old Man’s just waiting, I know

So many promises
We broke them, every one
Kept people on the levees
With sherrifs and shotguns
They’re gone – it’s all over here
Look over yonder at that empty shack
You know as well as I do
They ain’t coming back
They’re gone – it’s all over here

Blood and water bound to overflow
Blood and water bound to overflow
Well there’s no more high water
No more high water
There’s no more high water
But the Old Man’s just waiting, I know

Today Is Okay
Well, we like to have some friends around
Do the twist to Ray Charles and James Brown
After lunch I’ll maybe take a nap
I like a nap before a scrap

Honey, pass me more of them peas
Mm, I do like these
And let me have some more of those
More steak and potatoes, yeah

In a little while I’m going downtown
Maybe take me one or two rounds
I’m gonna knock that man clean out
He’s going down, no doubt

Maybe I was born on a bad luck day
Born under a bad sign
But today is okay
Today’s just fine

Baby you can read my mind
I’ll be home just after nine
You’re the best medicine I know
Tonight we’re gonna let it all go

Put on that pretty silk shirt
Put on on that tight black skirt
Put on those heels so black
We can party on when I get back

Maybe I was born on a bad luck day
Born under a bad sign
But today is okay
Today’s just fine

After The Beanstalk
Well a hen can lay a golden egg but she still can’t sing
A hen can lay a golden egg but she still can’t sing
Well the hen’s alright but the harp is everything

When he’s gunning for glory a boy just won’t be told
Gunning for glory a boy just won’t be told
I went up three times but it never was for the gold

Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
That old cow she wasn’t milking anyhow

After the beanstalk your life’s not the same
After the beanstalk your life’s not the same
Well the harp’s worth more than any fortune and fame

Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
I’m still up in the morning to get behind the plough

A hen can lay a golden egg but she still can’t sing
A hen can lay a golden egg but she still can’t sing
Well the hen’s alright but the harp is everything

Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
Oh, Mama what’s the matter now
I’m still up in the morning to get behind the plough

Deluxe Bonus Disc - Rehearsal Desk Mixes

Why Aye Man (Live From Music Bank London/2011)
We had no way of staying afloat
We had to leave on the ferry boat
Economic refugees
On the run to Germany

We had the back of Maggie’s hand
Times were tough in Geordieland
We got wor tools and working gear
And humped it all from Newcastle to here

Why aye man, why aye, why aye man
Why aye man, why aye, why aye man

We’re the nomad tribes, travelling boys
In the dust and dirt and the racket and the noise
Drills and hammers, diggers and picks
Mixing concrete, laying bricks

There’s English, Irish, Scots, the lot
United nation’s what we’ve got
Brickies, chippies, every trade
German building, British-made

Why aye man, why aye, why aye man
Why aye man, why aye, why aye man

Nae more work on Maggie’s farm
Hadaway down the autobahn
Mine’s a portacabin bed
Or a bunk in a nissen hut instead

There’s plenty deutschmarks here to earn
And german tarts are wunderschoen
German beer is chemical-free
Germany’s alreet with me

Sometimes I miss my river tyne
But you’re my pretty fraulein
Tonight we’ll drink the old town dry
Keep wor spirit levels high

Why aye man, why aye, why aye man
Why aye man, why aye, why aye man

ADDITIONAL MUSICIANS
Jimmy Nail & Tim Healy: backing vocals

Cleaning My Gun (Live From Music Bank London/2011)
I keep a weather eye on the horizon, my back to the wall
I like to know who’s coming through the door, that’s all
It’s the old army training kicking in
I’m not complaining, it’s the world we live in

Blarney and Malarkey, they’re a devious firm
They’ll take you to the cleaners or let you burn
The help is breaking dishes in the kitchen – thanks a lot
We hired the worst dishwasher this place ever got
Come in below the radar, they want to spoil our fun
In the meantime I’m cleaning my gun

Remember it got so cold ice froze up the tank
We lit a fire beneath her just so she would crank
I keep a weather eye on the horizon, tap the stormglass now and then
I’ve got a case of Old Damnation for when you get here, my friend
We can have ourselves a party before they come
In the meantime I’m cleaning my gun

We had women and a mirror ball, we had a dee jay
used to eat pretty much all that came his way
Ever since the goons came in and took apart the place
I keep a tyre iron in the corner, just in case

I gave you a magic bullet on a little chain
to keep you safe from the chilly winds and out of the rain
We’re gonna might need bullets should we get stuck
Any which way, we’re going to need a little luck
You can still get gas in Heaven, and a drink in Kingdom Come
In the meantime I’m cleaning my gun

Corned Beef City (Live From Music Bank London/2011)
Early in the morning
Going to meet a man
Wants a truck unloading
For cash-in-hand
You don’t ask questions
When there’s nothing in the bank
Got to feed the kids
And put the diesel in the tank

Bacon, egg and sausage
Double chips and beans
Tea and bread and butter
And a day on the machines
Christmas is coming
With the final demand
What you got going
For cash in hand

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Early in the morning
Where the trucks all stand
I’ve got a pocket full of folding
And a pair of jerry cans
I’ve got to keep it going
They’re laying off at Ford
I’m only one step ahead
Of my room and board

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Early in the morning
Going to meet a man
Wants a truck unloading
For cash-in-hand
You don’t ask questions
When there’s nothing in the bank
Got to feed the kids
And put the diesel in the tank

So it ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City
It ain’t too pretty
Corned Beef City

Sailing To Philadelphia (Live From Music Bank London/2011)
I am Jeremiah Dixon
I am a Geordie Boy
A glass of wine with you, sir
And the ladies I’ll enjoy

All Durham and Northumberland
Is measured up by my own hand
It was my fate from birth
To make my mark upon the earth…

He calls me Charlie Mason
A stargazer am I
It seems that I was born
To chart the evening sky

They’d cut me out for baking bread
But I had other dreams instead
This baker’s boy from the west country
Would join the Royal Society…

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line

Now you’re a good surveyor, Dixon
But I swear you’ll make me mad
The West will kill us both
You gullible Geordie lad

You talk of liberty
How can America be free
A Geordie and a baker’s boy
In the forest of the Iroquois…

Now hold your head up, Mason
See America lies there
The morning tide has raised
The capes of Delaware

Come up and feel the sun
A new morning is begun
Another day will make it clear
Why your stars should guide us here…

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line

ADDITIONAL MUSICIANS
James Taylor: vocals
Paul Franklin (honorary 96er): pedal steel

Hill Farmer’s Blues (Live From Music Bank London/2011)
I’m going into tow law
For what I need

Chain for the ripsaw
Killer for the weed
The dog’s at the back door
Leave him be
Don’t feed him Jack
And don’t wait up for me

Going into tow law
To fuel my fire
Shells for the twelve
And razor wire
The dog’s at the back door
Leave him be
Don’t do jack
And don’t wait up for me

So bad so bad
So bad so bad

I’m going into tow law
To have my fun
Don’t get me wrong
You were the only one
Behind my back lord
You made a fool of me
Don’t do jack
And don’t wait up for me

So bad so bad
So bad so bad

ADDITIONAL MUSICIANS
Paul Franklin: pedal steel

Super Deluxe Box Set Bonus Disc

Occupation Blues
I can get you what you want at the market
As long as you have the price
The colonel is the Governor
He steals from his own supply
The jailhouse is full of small fry
Who never did much wrong
All the big fish swam away
All long gone

All long gone
All long gone
All long gone
All long, all long gone

I can get you what you want at the market
Everybody’s on the make
The colonel is the Governor
And he’s on a slice of the cake
And everyone in this occupied land
Is on the game
And over here in Contraband
It’s the same

All long gone
All long gone
All long gone
All long, all long gone

Chief cook and bottle washer
That’s me
I’m the man
So many people to see
Contraband
Chief cook and bottle washer
That’s me
I’m the man
What do you do
What do you do
You do what you can

But we’re all long gone
All long gone
We’re all long gone
All long, all long gone

There’ll be rain
Behind the wind
Last night it was cold
And when it all caves in
I’ll tell them
I only did what I was told

Water of love
By day I sell them my soul
I work like a mole
Under the shop
By night I’ll drink in the cold hole
But down in the nine-foot drop

By day I’m a company mule
The wage slaving fool
They chain up like a dog
By night I’ll be sailing away
On my stool
On a river of grog
A river of grog

Two drinks
In my line of my sight
But that can’t be right
I know it’s untrue
I’m seeing double tonight
But there can only be one of you

I’ve loaded my pockets with stones
To bury my bones
In the mud of the bog
So let me go sailing
Away on my own
On a river of grog
A river of grog

If you miss me when I go
It’s been a barrel of fun
I’m gonna miss you
When I go
But down in this bottle
There’s a song for me waiting I know

I’ve loaded my pockets with stones
To bury my bones
In the mud of the bog
So let me go sailing
Away on my own
On a river of grog
A river of grog
River of grog

Setting me up
The day’s been a while fading
Seems like we have slowed
My eyes are getting weary
Can barely see the road
Been a while since we left behind the city lights
There’s just a line winding through the night

Yesterday’s lie scattered
Like broken swords and shields
Like the used up shells and bullets
On a hundred battlefields
When, I think of all the close calls
Both sides of love and death
Sometimes I can hardly get my breath

But I’ll follow the ribbon anyhow
I’ll follow the ribbon
That’s all right for now
Up in the high country
Or down where the river flows
Wherever it goes

Don’t care if they like it
Don’t care if they don’t
Never did much care about
If they will or won’t
If all you want to know is acorns
Rootin’ me a patch of earth
What can you praise
That’s really any worth

I’m just living with the ringing
Of tomorrow’s ancient rhymes
The road ahead may be shorter
Than the one we left behind
If there’s whiskey in the bottle
Leave some for me
I’ll get to it, eventually

I’ll follow the ribbon
By the cold lagoon
Follow the ribbon
Under the helpless moon
Winding through the dark hills
Where a million stars a-falls
Wherever it goes

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