John Scott Cree's lyrics: Indirigible (unreleased CD)

Mao oo ma ma
Watch what you eat now look after your teeth (Mao oo ma ma, ma ma, oo ma ma)
Better take some exercise or you'll come to grief (Mao ...)
Hair is getting thinner I don't know where it goes (Mao ...)
Except where I don't want it growing up my nose (Mao ...)

(Refrain) Need to find some energy like my friend Kevin (Mao ...)
He's not a morning person but he's 24/7 (Mao ...)

It's no use complaining about the state I'm in (Mao ...)
It's like blaming God when your football team don't win (Mao ...)

Instrumental (Refrain) (Bridge - minor)

If I were French I'd be a man of taste, chacun a son gout
But I'm English, it's not gout it's gout, playing havoc with my foot

You say I look miserable criticise my dress (Mao ...)
Beneath this cold exterior I'm really quite depressed (Mao ...)

(Refrain) Looking for the truth I found it in The Sun (Mao ...)
Looking for a riff Ron Truman-Border gave me one (Mao ...)

The world and his wife are here seemingly
All I hear is something she said to me
Feel like a lost minstrel with a lay
Can you tell me find a lay these days?

I asked my friend for a game of darts, he said
"OK, nearest to the bull starts"
I said "Baa" he said "Moo" ----
Someone's losing out here and I know who

Can't believe I hurt her or did her wrong
But I wasn't made to be on my own
I'll go out and mix possibility's vast
A singles club or perhaps an evening class

I said "Yoga?" She asked
"How flexible are you?"
I said not Tuesdays, she said
"We'll see what we can do"
Am I indirigible for lacking direction
Too much information, too many questions

She offered me a coffee, my heart beat overtime
I started to panic and politely declined
She asked "Don't you want to meet someone like me?"
I said "Yes, but I don't like coffee"

Ay de oh ho
Ay de oh ho fish and swim, think it's time I learned to sing
I don't breathe right now, can't hold notes
Got no tone and frogs in throat
Who's my model, where should I go?
A tenor's too high and a bass is too low ... and I hate vibrato.

Ay de oh ho don't like opera, just the chords when music's choral
All together, not the solo, spare me shrill sopranos
But lately I don't mind contralto - I saw Jessye singing Samson
Remembered Kathleen singing from Messiah.

Ay de oh ho why this preference, how can one voice sound so different
Make me think twice on prejudice I've felt since my teens?
Looks prolong attention span, watching Arleen when she sang
Now she's gone I see it's wrong to label all the same.

Is incorrigible rust proof, do I read the signs right
What are we looking at here?
Trivia on the phone, at my work and in my home
The oral culture is here

There's violence in the cinema, expletives on the TV
Gloom and doom in newspapers all for reality
Everything they want to know is found in soaps and game shows
No value in the family, the library stands empty

What do they teach them in schools these days
Society, who wants to know?
What's the hidden agenda in the question of gender
Are we all better off on our own?

It's personal when four headlights are driving up my backside
For body's which must leak air, after all those piercings
It's survival of the fittest and no tolerance of weakness
But why do they look so ill after jogging?

They can hunt for Salem witches, blame immigrants for loss of riches
But we're all guilty of wrongdoing, it's just a question of degree
So when we point the finger at those who download paedolphilia
What images do we choose when we indulge in fantasy

Days like these
Walking as a young boy talking with my friend
Struggling with the changes on the way to being men
Listen to the radio have a furtive smoke
Patting horses over gates like our senses have just woke

Buffeted by wind, snow blind with white sand
Walking the kids on a Hebridean island
Looking from a dune at the roan beasts in the sea
Breaking their reflection whenever they get frisky

(Br) On days like these it's enough to breathe, enjoy the free sensation
Be there in the scenery, a small part of creation

Singing with the kids to rouse the curiosity
Of seals lazing on the rocks out there in the bay
Cheer to see them slip off, swim across the water
Heads bobbing by our feet, sad eyes filled with laughter

(Br) Treading water like the seals, enraptured by the feeling
It's good for us to be here, like wind blown birds free-wheeling

Forget presidential killings or the first moon landing
Why should we be defined by where we were when something happened
We're standing on a French beach, to watch Halle Bop’s static moving
From across 5,000 years the scientists confounding

Some headlines (such triumphs)
There's a woman in a hurricane, swept 50 miles to sea
From the wild coast of Honduras with all her family
For six days she clings on to life as one by one they drown
Rewarded for tenacity when by Providence she's found

(Chorus) Doctor listen to me and tell me if you can
Why I'm not content and want to be another man
When such triumphs give us hope and cynicism's rife
Am I just a tourist or a dweller in this life?

For a Bath student in a coma, the doctors say "Enough"
Tell the family now's the time to switch life support off
But the patient goes on living, they're sometimes wrong you see,
No brain damage as predicted, but a full recovery


There's disaster in an earthquake In Mexico City
Homes reduced to rubble to compound the poverty
With hope almost abandoned, they find an unharmed babe
And yet another precious life even after thirty days


I must keep trying
Walking down the High Street saw that girl and froze
Is she gonna look my way do you think she knows

I'm so old she can trust me, more sinned against than sinned
When I try to smile at her will she think it's wind

(Ref) I've got to laugh or else I'll end up crying ...
I just can't win but I must keep trying ...

There should be no problem, no portent of disaster
Why can't I just walk up and ask her

Will my courage fail me surely she won't bite
Do I really think she won't or perhaps she might?

E-excuse me, can you spare a minute to fill my survey in
Vegetables, do you like them frozen or tinned? Do you take jam on your piece?

To hear Chuck Berry sing
Last night I went to Crawley to hear Chuck Berry sing
I said Chuck please do your duck walk, not that smutty thing
Sing Sweet little 16, don't play Ding-a-ling

Don't waste our time together, you know we don't have long
So many songs and just one hour, Ding a ling is wrong
Leave us memories to cherish after you have gone

(Br) Work your magic play the big kid, you could drop Ding if you wanted
Let us hear those songs with subtlety

Leave out Ding it takes your kid thing, too far, but girls and cars
And school and Rock and roll we could hear all day
You made millions like me want to play


(Bridge) People made Ding number one, think it's all you’ve ever done
But it's an aberration not for me

Play us all your classic songs with your riffs to push them on
We only have one hour then you're gone
Leave me chanting Chuck refrains
I might not have the chance to see you again

She’s a paragon of virtue
Sometimes wears her hair up, always lets it down
She will raise your spirits up whenever she's around
You'll see her in the Orient, find her in the West
If you're at all uncertain, she will steer you to success

She's got the common touch, with an educated mind
She's got the art of conversation and enjoys a glass of wine
Whatever company she's in she's always at her best
She'll be the focus of attention and put your mind at rest

(BR) Not interested in status, money's never on her mind
Never needs a reason to be having a good time
She's a paragon of virtue so please take my advice
Don't do anything to hurt her, always treat her nice

She's very slow to anger, she's not easy to offend
She'll be a mother to your children, your lover and your friend
If you play your cards right, help her through her lows
You can both grow old together, sharing as you go

Instrum. Bridge

Without her you are lost always lack direction
Unquestioning in love and tireless in affection
But why is she content to be the tatties to your neaps?
Why's never too tired to read before she sleeps?

I saw you at the 100 Club
I saw you at the 100 Club, it wasn't right to speak
Chatter drowned your singing, but there was no mistaking the technique
Like when you taught me Rock me baby, when you were living down in Deal
When I see a hero struggle, I don't know how to feel


So I went to ask the man on the Clapham omnibus
His view is often quoted, so it must have gravitas
But there was no man ‘cept the driver
Not a woman I could see
Not even a conductor, only me

And I thought of bus conductors, did PC make them go?
We put up with their ding a ling but not their innuendo
Room for one on top, pass right down inside
Made some people giggle, made me want to run and hide

When does my life start, that's the burning question
I wish I knew some answers, I'm open to suggestion
Need to look more to myself, make it my life's mission
Not rely on heroes but on my intuition

Paddy, me bhoy
It is of an American
A tale to you I'll tell
To find ancestral roots he came
To Ireland for a spell
The last night was a banquet,
The best he'd ever seen
And while he dined an orchestra
Was playing evergreens

He ate and drank and drank and ate
And listened to the songs
And all the while he hoped for one
Where he could sing along
So he approached the leader
To ask his orchestra
If they would play a favourite
Of his Irish grandmother

"She sang to me when at her knee
I played with childhood toys
I thought tonight I'd hear you play
Her song 'Paddy me boy'
"It was", said he "a rare old song
My grandmother's great joy
So please be quick and wave your stick
And play 'Paddy me boy'"

The orchestra were at a loss,
They didn't know the tune
The leader said "Its getting late,
We're due to finish soon
But we're here to please you,
We've no wish to annoy
If you can hum or whistle it,
We'll play 'Paddy me boy'"

He smiled his modest smile,
He'd much to be shy about
He had a think, he took a drink,
Was this a moment's doubt?
He blew his nose, he cleared his throat,
He coughed and struck a pose
"I'm not much of a singer, but
I'll do my best, here goes"

Oh…oh…oh…Oh Paddy me boy, is that the Chattanooga choo choo?

All lyrics Copyright © John Scott Cree except where indicated otherwise


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