loom

Cut along the dotted line
Slip in and seal the flap
Postal competition crazy
Though you wear the dunce's cap

Win a fortnight in Ibiza
Line up for the big hand out
You'll never know unless you try
What winning's all about

Be a quizz kid
Be a whizz kid
Be a quizz kid
Be a...

Six days later
There's a rush telegram
Drop everything
And telephone this number if you can

It's a free trip down to London
For a weekend of high life
They'll wine you, dine you, undermine you
Better not bring the wife

Be a quizz kid
Be a whizz kid
Be a quizz kid
Be a...

It's a try out for a quizz show
That millions watch each week
Following the fate and fortunes
Of contestants as they speak

Answerable to everyone
Responsible to all
Publicity dissected
Brain cells splattered on the walls

Of encyclopaedic knowledge
May be barbaric but it's fun!
As the clock ticks away a lifetime
Hold your head up to the gun

Of a million cathode ray tubes
Aimed at your tiny skull
May you find sweet inspiration
May your memory not be dull

May you rise to dizzy success
May your wit be quick and strong
May you constantly amaze us
May your answers not be wrong

May your head be on your shoulders
May your tongue be in your cheek
And most of all we pray that you
May come back next week

Be a quizz kid
Be a whizz kid
Be a...



Crazed institution

(Anderson)

Just a little touch of make up
Just a little touch of bull
Just a little three chord trick
Embedded in your platform soul

You can wear a gold Piaget
On your Semaphore wrist
You can dance the old adage
With a new dapper twist

And you can ring a crown of roses 'round your cranium
Live and die upon your cross of platinum

Join the crazed institution of the stars
Be the man that you think you really are
Join the crazed institution of the stars
Be the man that you know you really are

Crawl inside your major triad, curl up and laugh
As your agent scores another front page photograph
Is it them or is it you? Throwing dice inside the loo
Awaiting someone else to pull the chain

Well, grab the old bog handle
Hold your breath and light a candle
Clear your throat and pray for rain

To irrigate the corridors
That echo in your brain
Filled with empty nothingness
And empty hunger pains

And you can ring a crown of roses 'round your cranium
Live and die upon your cross of platinum

Join the crazed institution of the stars
Be the man that you think you really are
Join the crazed institution of the stars
Be the man that you know you really are



Salamander

(Anderson)

Salamander
Born in the sun kissed flame
Who was it lit your candle?
Branded you with your name

I see you walking by my window
In your Kensington haze

Salamander, burn for me
Salamander, burn for me
Salamander, burn for me
And I'll burn for you



Taxi grab

(Anderson)

Shake a leg, it's the big rush
Can't find a taxi, can't find a bus
Bodies jammed in the underground
Evacuating London town

Nowhere to put your feet
As the big store shoppers and the pavements meet
Red lights, pin stripes
Short step shuffle into the night

Tea time calls, The Bingo Halls
Open at seven in the old front stalls

How about a taxi grab?
A taxi grab

There's an empty cab by the taxi stand
Driver's in the cafe, washing his hands
Big diesel idles, the keys inside
Come on, Sally! Let's take a ride

Flag down uptown, no sweat
For rush hour travel it's the best bet yet

Taxi grab
Taxi grab



From a dead beat to an old greaser

(Anderson)

From a dead beat to an old greaser
Here's thinking of you
You won't remember the long nights
Coffee bars and black tights

And white thighs in shop windows
Where blonde assistants fully fashioned
A world made of dummies with no mommies
Or daddies to reject them

When bombs were banned every sunday
And the Shadows played F.B.I.
And tired young sax players
Sold their instruments of torture

Sat in the station
Sharing wet dreams
Of Charlie Parker, Jack Kerouac
Rene Magritte

To name a few of the heroes
Who were too wise for their own good
Left the young brood
To go on living without them

Old queers with young faces
Who remember your name
Though you're a dead beat with tired feet
Two ends that don't meet

To a dead beat from an old greaser
Think you must have me all wrong
I didn't care, friend, I wasn't there, friend
If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again



Bad-eyed and loveless

(Anderson)

Yes and she's bad-eyed and she's loveless
A young man's fancy and an old man's dream
I'm self raising and I flower in her company
Give me no sugar without her cream

She's a warm fart at Christmas
She's a breath of champagne on sparkling night

Yes and she's bad-eyed and she's loveless
Turns other women to envious green
Yes and she's bad-eyed and she's loveless
She's a young man's vision in my old man's dream



Big dipper

(Anderson)

The mist rolls off the beaches
The train rolls into the station
Weekend happiness seekers
Pent up saturation

Well, we don't mean anyone any harm
We weren't on the Glasgow train
I'll see you at the Pleasure Beach
Roller coasting heroes

Big dipper riding
We'll give the local lads a hiding
If they keep us from the ladies
Hanging out in the penny arcades

Shaking up the Tower Ballroom
Throwing up in the bathroom
Land lady's in the backroom
Well, I'm the big dipper, it's the weekend rage

Rich widowed land lady
Give me your spare front door key
If you're thirty nine or over
I'll make love to you next thursday

Well, I may stay over for a week or two
Drop a postcard to me mom
I'll see you on the waltzer
We'll go big dipping daily

Big dipper riding
We'll give the local lads a hiding
If they keep us from the ladies
Hanging out in the penny arcades

Shaking up the Tower Ballroom
Throwing up in the bathroom
Land lady's in the backroom
Well, I'm the big dipper, it's the weekend rage



Too old to rock 'n' roll: too young to die

(Anderson)

The old rocker wore his hair too long
Wore his trouser cuffs too tight
Unfashionable to the end
Drank his ale too light

Death's head belt buckle yesterday's dreams
The transport cafe prophet of doom
Ringing no change in his double sewn seams
In his post war babe gloom

Now he's too old to rock 'n' roll
But he's too young to die
Yes, he's too old to rock 'n' roll
And he's too young to die

He once owned a Harley Davidson
And a Triumph Bonneville
Counted his friends in burned out spark plugs
And prays that he always will

But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys
And all of his mates are doing time
Married with three kids up by the ring road
Sold their souls straight down the line

And some of them own little sports cars
And meet at the tennis club do's
For drinks on a sunday, work on monday
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes

Now they're too old to rock 'n' roll
And they're too young to die
Yes, they're too old to rock 'n' roll
And they're too young to die

So the old rocker gets out his bike
To make a ton before he takes his leave
Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner
Just like it used to be

And as he flies, tears in his eyes
His wind whipped words echo the final take
And he hits the trunk road doing around 120
With no room left to brake

And he was too old to rock 'n' roll
But he was too young to die
And he was too old to rock 'n' roll
And he was too young to die

No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll
If you're too young to die
No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll
If you're too young to die



Pied piper

(Anderson)

Now if you think Ray blew it, there was nothing to it
They patched him up as good as new
You can see him every day riding down the queen's highway
Handing out his small cigars to the kids from school

And all the little girls with their bleached blond curls
Clump up on their platform soles
And they say: "Hey, Ray! Let's ride away!
Downtown where we can roll some alley bowls"

And Ray grins from ear to here and whispers:

So follow me, trail along
My leather jacket's buttoned up
And my four stroke song
Will pick you up when your last class ends

And you can tell all your friends

The pied piper pulled you
The mad biker fooled you
I'll do what you want to
If you ride with me on a friday anything goes

So follow me, hold on tight
My school girl fancy's flowing in free flight
I've a tenner in my skin tight jeans
You can touch it if your hands are clean

The pied piper pulled you
The mad biker fooled you
I'll do what you want to
If you ride with me on a friday anything goes



The chequered flag (dead or alive)

(Anderson)

The disc brakes drag
The chequered flag sweeps across the oil slick track
The young man's home, dry as a bone
His helmet off, he waves, the crowd waves back

One lap victory roll, gladiator soul
The taker of the day in winning has to say:

Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive
Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive

The sunlight streaks through the curtain cracks
Touches the old man where he sleeps
The nurse brings up a cup of tea
Two biscuits and the morning paper mystery

The hard road's end, the white god's send
Is nearer everyday, in dying the old man says:

Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive
Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive

The stillborn child can't feel the rain
As the chequered flag falls once again
The deaf composer completes his final score
He'll never hear the sweet encore

The chequered flag, the bull's red rag
The lemming hearted hordes running ever faster to the shore singing:

Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive
Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand?
Dead or alive