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Tombstone Blues

The Complete Album Collection Vol.1专辑

  • The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
    The city fathers they're trying to endorse
    The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
    But the town has no need to be nervous.
    The ghost of Belle Star she hands down her wits
    To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
    A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
    At the head of the chamber of commerce.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
    Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
    Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
    Says, "My advice is to not let the boys in".
    Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
    He walks with a swagger and he says to be bride
    "Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
    You will not die, it's not poison".
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' the fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
    Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
    Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
    Is there a hole for me to get sick in ?"
    The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
    Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
    And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
    Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
    Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
    Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
    Then sends them out to the jungle.
    Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he bums out their camps
    With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
    With a fantastic collection of stamps
    To win friends and influence his uncle.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in trouble
    With the tombstone blues.
    The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
    Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
    At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone
    But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.
    Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
    I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
    Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
    He could die happily ever after.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
    Tuba players now rehearsal around the flagpole
    And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps or the soul
    To the old folks home in the college.
    Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
    That could hold you dear lady from going insane
    That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
    Of your useless and pointless knowledge
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
  • The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
    The city fathers they're trying to endorse
    The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
    But the town has no need to be nervous.
    The ghost of Belle Star she hands down her wits
    To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
    A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
    At the head of the chamber of commerce.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
    Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
    Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
    Says, "My advice is to not let the boys in".
    Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
    He walks with a swagger and he says to be bride
    "Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
    You will not die, it's not poison".
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' the fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
    Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
    Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
    Is there a hole for me to get sick in ?"
    The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
    Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
    And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
    Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
    Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
    Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
    Then sends them out to the jungle.
    Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he bums out their camps
    With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
    With a fantastic collection of stamps
    To win friends and influence his uncle.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in trouble
    With the tombstone blues.
    The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
    Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
    At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone
    But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.
    Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
    I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
    Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
    He could die happily ever after.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.
    Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
    Tuba players now rehearsal around the flagpole
    And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps or the soul
    To the old folks home in the college.
    Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
    That could hold you dear lady from going insane
    That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
    Of your useless and pointless knowledge
    Mama's in the fact'ry
    She ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley
    He's lookin' for fuse
    I'm in the kitchen
    With the tombstone blues.

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