Although the tales I've heard 'bout Venus
Would rot your hair up and melt down your buttons
Quick as a wink and leave you to stink
Checking on the situation
And all the tales I've heard 'bout Saturn
At Tuppence Alley in Lancashire, Blackburn
How many holes will fill up a hole
Checking on the situation
Excition, stop me when you get the time
Chills and jelly knees keeping me up
And then down and then up
And then down and then up
Round round get around
If I could only get a ticket
Tick tick tock ticket to ride
And if I only could see where I'm going, doo-doo...
Excitation, revelation
Excitation, revelation
Waterloo Station, hang me on the wall
Hiding from the gales and snow
Waterloo Station, Sunday in the hall
Waiting for the train to go, toot toot
Chuffa chuff chuff choo choo choo choo
Nooby noo noo jubba joo joo
Over the mountains and over the skies
Over the ocean, far as the blackbird flies, krak krak
And all the tales I've heard 'bout butlins
Would rot your tent up
And melt down your Primus
Quick as a wink and leave you to stink
Checking on the situation
Somehow this is just not on
Tra la la la la la, oh no no no no no no
So we really have to think 'bout getting on the scene
And fixing things up in a sociable manner
That gives us a chance to unite
'neath the banner of hope in the wonder
Of soulful salvation
Somehow this is just not on
Tra la la la la la, oh no no no no no no
Currently cheesing, hmm
Currently cheesing away
Dear Dicky and Maisie and Teddy, you too
Join hands with ol' Anwar and here's what we'll do
We'll waltz with ol' Leo and Moshe the Jew
As well as old Urho and dear Pompidou
And don't let us hear no lines in your prayers
Like "Our bomb's bigger than theirs"
And don't try to tell us you don't have a clue
Why Turks ain't delightful and Ireland's a stew
Why Chinks don't like Yankees
(They give 'em the flu)
It's almost enough to drive you cuckoo
Could start to make it smiling for fun
And say it's alright, but unload your gun
Or then we could load it, fight 'till we drown
Stand on the deck with storm spinning 'round
Cheer while we're watching the ship going down
Hip hip hooray, hip hip hooray, hooray, ay-ay...
So... No... Somehow this is just not on
Tra la la la la la, oh no no no no no no
So we really have to think 'bout getting on the scene
An' fixin' things up in a sociable manner
That gives us a chance to unite
'neath the banner of hope in the wonder
Of soulful salvation
Somehow this is just not on, tra la la la la la
So book me a flight to Saturn or Pluto or Venus
Cheap midweek flight if possible
Digging his garden, merry ol' soul
Auntie Giselda, made for that hole
Down by the rose bush mother-in-law
She's pushing up daisies for evermore
But don't stop if you're happy Horace
They won't catch you
Don't stop if you're happy Horace
No flies on you
Auntie Ivy was poisoned
By spiked cream cakes
So tell us what you're gonna do
Ooohoo! For Christ's sakes!
Don't stop if you're happy pappy
They won't catch you
Don't stop if you're happy pappy
No flies on you
Auntie was happy baking a tart
With apples from Horace, soon she will start
Pushing up rhubarbs, pushing up peas
Pushing up cabbage under the trees
Don't stop if you're happy Horace
They won't catch you
Don't stop if you're happy Horace
No flies on you
Auntie Ivy was poisoned
By spiked cream cakes
So tell us what you're gonna do
Ooohoo! For Christ's sakes!
Don't stop if you're happy pappy
They won't catch you
Don't stop if you're happy Horace
No flies on you
I'm gonna get me a shovel
Dig up every grave I know
I'm gonna get me a shovel
Dig up every grave I know
If I don't find find our victim
Gonna cancel my Life magazine subscription
I'm gonna get me a searchlight
Check out every morgue in town
And I'm gonna get me a searchlight
Check out every morgue in town, I say you one time
If I don't find my victim
I'm gonna make a complaint
Well I might take a shovel
I might take a drill
I might take a pick-axe
Maybe they take a pill
Oh Lawd yes I do believe I will
If I don't find our victim
Gonna break Sam's barbeque grill
Yeah baby, take it away, Dead Chester!
Gonna get me a buddy
Rough up every corpse we see
I'm gonna get me a buddy
Rough up every corpse we see
And if we run outa corpses
I'm gonna rough up my buddy
Aforn he roughs up me, yeah all right
The owl upon the rafter's beams
And winks an eye, or so it seems
As if to say we might have means
While I against the lamp-post leans
Silver saxophones of joy
Play a concerto just for me
Mi mi me me, no doo ray fah sol la ti
Checking on the situation
Where can I buy a map of South Venus?
Bill me when you get the time
Skipping around and all to fandjango
Was Rocking Mathilda waltzing the tango
Up in the tree tops Arnold the Sailor
Tells of the shore he saw growing paler
Checking on the situation
Where can I buy a map of South Venus?
Now, ooh...
Checking the chance a changin' the tune
Cha cha cha choo choo choo choo...
Harmless vibration!
Harmless vibration!
Harmless vibration!
The owl upon the rafter's beams
And winks an eye, or so it seems
As if to say we might have means
While I against the lamp-post leans
Silver saxophones of joy
Play a concerto just for me
Mi mi me me, mi mi me me, mi mi me me
Cosmic rot, foreboding might
Castled shadows, turret's proud
Banner standing, drawbridge tight
Protected in your shroud
Cosmic rot, silent moat
Pawns of silence, knights of black
Purple pupils glance to gloat
Protected at your back
(Spoken:) Yes, well I suppose I could
go on all night...
--------
(The LP cover gives 3rd and 4th verses as well:)
Evening's rot, mace and chain
Stallion strong, faultless lance
Visor down, relentless gain
Of death in your advance
Evening's rot, iron pride
Spur and stirrup, shield of black
Satin silence runs to hide
Protected at your back
instrumental
Somehow the prospect of camping in outer space
Seems to be further than ice cream on Mars
However, I'd just like to add, sort of save my face
I'm not contemplating no trips under cars
Hmm, and the problem of having to trade
My beads for a space-suit just leaves me dismayed
I'd hold out 'til Monday if I thought that it paid
But I have to go polish my spade
Maybe a deal could be made with the heads of state
Crosslegged 'round fires in purple haze
Lo lo lo...
Tiptoe through the graveyard, don't kick any buckets
"Poncho O'Froat"
And the problem of having to trade
My beads for a space-suit just leaves me dismayed
I'd hold out 'til Monday if I thought that it paid
But I have to go polish my spade
(Spoken:) Well, like the man said
Jeremiah Kincade's the name...
Atomic man embossed on hues of
Money greens that swell and ooze, will
Scratch his chin as if to muse that
All this winning meant to lose
'though he slaved and hated his dues
Here he was, no time to choose
A way to change and try to fuse him-
self into the way the queue's around him
"Attack you fools!", the captain bawls
"I'll have your heads upon my walls!"
Rows of heroes crouch to crawls
Bomb bamboo huts and village halls, smash
Ping-pong bats with cannon balls as
Ali Baba's sheiks and sauls
Debag Goliath as he falls
While the statue of Liberty
Climbs and mauls everything
"Champagne for the hero whore
And watch your step in all that gore
But not too much, he'll scream for more"
El pres. advices from the door
"For 'though he's filled from skin to core
It's not enough, he'll whine for sure, so
Say it's we who keep the score
And nail him back upon the floor, yeah"
(This 4th verse is printed on the LP
cover but is not sung:)
And scientist who work your charm
In quick-sell deaths and low price arm
In chemicalley funny farm
With test tube sets and poison balm
Go to hell, you'll find it calm
And I won't even spit or raise an arm
To stop the flames of your sweet napalm
If you ain't used it all in Vietnam
Start running
So there he works, still at large
Behind his smiles and his camouflage
Of nice white coats and college grades that
Hide blue suits with golden braids
And though I hope the smell just fades
It does not go but leads to raids on
Bamboo huts and country glades
Where the people use the grass for blades
Ain't that something?
Hand me down my morning suit
And air my evening gown
Summon for my carriage
I'm going up to town
To bear my first condolescenses
To where I'm really bound
And lie upon the evidence
That's hanging all around
Because one man's meat
Is another man's bread
And the bigger boys end up fed
So, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
And beg the sally army
To play a serenade
And while they blow the anthem
I will perish by the blade
And tell them not to worry
For over-time is paid
Soon as all the mourners
Leave the plot where I'm laid
'cause one man's meat
Is another man's bread
And the bigger boys end up fed
So, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
And while you highland sword-dance
I will try to die so gay
And swing a leg in Savoy style
And dance my blues away
But please don't sidle over
And slowly start to say
That someone thought they saw my head
Go flying that away
Because one man's meat
Is another man's bread
And the bigger boys end up fed
So, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
Ooh, so, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
Woo, everybody, so, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
Ooh, one more time, so, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
Ooh, once more for the King, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
So, get me to my funeral
My last blood has just bled
So, get me to my funeral