Well you're hearing lots of people,
You've got people blowing back and forth.
In the wee small hours with Frank Sinatra,
You're Charles Aznavour with Edith Piaf.
You're gyrating like Elvis Presley,
You're inviting them to fill the floor
I've got a message from your little sister,
She says she's missing you like never before.

It's got to be sex and drugs
It's got to be weasel words
It's got to be shock'em'all
It's got to be rock'n'roll

Now you're Dylan before he went electric,
You've got sandpaper in your voice.
You're the vocalist from AC/DC,
Keep 'em rocking until you're hoarse.
Now you're chanting Hare Krishna,
Krishna, Krishna, Hare Rama,
You've got Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds,
You're Revolution #9

You're the fifteen minute solo,
Lead guitar without a voice.
Jimmy Page or Jimi Hendrix,
They'll pay their money and make their choice.
You're the attitude of Johnny Rotten
Blurting out, "God Save the Queen"
The antithesis of easy listening,
You're the spirit of Kurt Cobain.

Now you feel like Robbie Williams,
Is this real 'cause I feel fake.
Now I'm up there in the big time
And I'm finally up-to-date.
Fifty shades of Amy Winehouse,
Fifty Cent and Eminem
Dollar bills and product placement,
Britney Spears is hip again.

3 Rock And Roll

I though through a new multi-fold view of the past,
In my daydream it didn't seem long since the last.
I sat wondering why you had wanted to go
Far beyond the horizon, I think I saw you
In a country lane, with your white anorak
In the morning rain, taking your dog for a walk
The crystal ball didn't need much looking at
To see that our two worlds were light years apart.

Dream of how the dream takes the me closer to
A detailed, romantic showdown with you

Just suppose you decide upon visiting here
Don't think twice to come round, it'll all be prepared
For a meeting of minds, a champagne affair
With a table for two, and me waiting there.
Lighting candles to speed you, and polishing plates
With the oven down low, just in case you are late.
Daring to hope for a day that will come
When my dreams and reality both will be one.

You've got what it takes to be always in style,
To turn up dressed in rags and be Belle of the Ball.
I love you, and why should I push you aside
When I want you to stay in the way of my life.
There's a day the last astronaut left the moon
And in all these years, to never return.
There's a day that Tom Baker stopped being Dr Who
But there's no day I'm gonna stop being in love with you.

4 Dream On

All you have to do is dream
You don't have to make it
Make a plan for the world
And you don't have to fake it
Somewhere beneath your hat
Is your head, where I saw you
Thinking about the past
And the way it's slipping from you.

You've said goodbye, now say hello
Don't be afraid of letting go

Sailing
You've got sails that reach the sky
Flying
You've got wings that fly so high
Take me to your circus,
I feel colour, I feel rhyme
Lift the lid on your circus
Let me see them colours shine.

The present's fresh as new-born snow
Life is for living, don't ya know

I am the call, you are the answer
I am the ball, you are the catch.
I am the song, you are the dancer
You are the flame, we are the match.

You're in a place I can't get in
But you can hear me, when I sing

Somewhere beneath your hat
There's a tale of loss and sorrow
But that's all in the past
And today will be tomorrow
As playful and inviting
As the sun upon the street
My heart invites your heart inside
To beat, beat, beat

5 Somewhere Beneath Your Hat

Drinking Joe and making plans
Things ain't gonna be the same
I love you, I love you.
Standing by a whistling train
Busy being re-arranged
I love you, and I do.

Hey you over there with the thin grey hair
And the fat cigar and the fancy car
The Jaguar that says what you are
You know your days are numbered.

And you over there with the long brown hair
And the wide-eyed stare that's without a care
And the cheeky face that's so out of place
I'm gonna have to find ya

Shirt and shoes and hair a mess
Dressing down to un-impress
I love you, I love you.
Shocking is the thought of change
Attitudes must be maintained
I love you, I love you.

Hey you over there with the stocks and shares
And the smiling looks of the Wall Street crooks
As you stuff your face with your bags of loot
You know we're gonna get ya

And you over there with the long blonde hair
And the band of gold and the lies you told
And the dress so bold and the smile so cold
I'm gonna have to find ya

Linking arms and chanting songs
Millions will understand
I love you, I love you.
Make a rhyme which ends in you
Make a love song of I do
I love you, and I do.

A private jet, tail featherised
Blows dirty tricks on the planet's side
And Sir Philip Green sails all around
In BHS's pension fund

In the countryside of Mozambique
A child plays and a land mine clicks
The child dies, the mother weeps
And an ex politician dies in his sleep

And stone skinned statues sit in heaps
Where a baby sucks on a dried up teat
And our government makes budget cuts
To foreign aid and UNICEF

In the coffee bars of old New York
Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac
Lawrence Ferlinghetti and the rest
Vive la Revolution, moi je sais!

6 Vive La Revolution

Redundant TV aerials,
Roofs that let in rain
Faces at the windowsill,
Gazes set in stone.
Dilapidated tenements,
Drunks escape the scene
Desolation all about,
Ruin by the tonne.

Undies drying out the back,
Shirt and trousers nicked.
Lovers in the open court,
Dying neck-to-neck.
Drunk man speaking sotto voce,
Ruin on the tongue.
A junkie caught in sharp midday,
Awaking in the sun.

Come and visit Glasgow
And you won't believe your eyes.
Cam awa' tae Glesgae
An' ye'll see the reason why.

Black holes in an oyster town,
A junkie takes a fix.
A door away, a neighbour
Crashes back to planet Earth.
Upwardly aspiring
To pretend he's someone else,
Felicitously drifting
In and out of life.

Stuck outside, a scratchy tune
On a mandolin
Fraying string and knuckled bone
On and on again.
Long neglected flower trays
Hanging out to die.
Smells of piss and excrement
Everywhere inside.

Colour scheme is shades of grey,
Black and brown are in.
As black as windows rolling down
On a limousine.
A woman parked upon the street
Six or seventeen
Is working to another fix
With just the life she's in.

The drunk assaults a passer-by,
The hands and feet go mad
Pummeling his private parts
While flagging down a cab.
The busker races to the scene,
The jacket pockets fall.
A worried shopper hurries home,
A story to be told.

7 Summer In The City

The sun is up on this special day.
We'll make the most of it, come what may

So come along and while away the hours
Marvel at the multicoloured flowers
Pearl has got her sequined top to dazzle
Bill has got his birthday beer in barrels
So come along and get down to the common
Come along and get down in the common

The sun is up on this special day
We'll make the most of it, come what may

Vince has got his five-arm candelabra
Tom has got his monkey paw to grab ya
Jill is in her shiny suit of snakeskin
Jane has made a riot of her furskin
So come along and get down to the common
Come along and get down in the common

The sun is up on this special day
We'll make the most of it, come what may

Torches will ablaze tonight at sundown
Drumming will resound throughout the heavens
Mother Earth herself will run in crimson
Produce of the sacrificial victim
So come along and get down to the common
Come along and get down in the common

The sun is up on this special day
- Have a nice day

8 Tewkesbury Common

You were sleeping, as I recall
The windows pressed were from some other world
Your caravan was damp and cold
In Benbecula.

Two lovers standing - the better man won,
You explained yourself in the caravan.
You're bonding with another man
In Benbecula.

It was day-glo prints and New Age books,
Astrology and horoscopes.
Your heart was set and the stars were fixed
In Benbecula.

From a puddle of land, you had seen it all
You had marked your path, you had heard the call.
Your hands were empty but your head was full
In Benbecula.

The finest girl I never owned,
The best damn looking girl in town.
I saw running water and a pile of stones
In Benbecula.

Equator crawl to Capricorn,
It's summer now, but not for long.
Yer wee bit sun will soon be gone
In Benbecula.

It's love, not hurt - that's no-one's fault
You've made your choice - make mine a malt.
So I hope this life of yours works out
In Benbecula.

9 In Benbecula

The thimble's full and there is nothing in
You're talking fancy and the state you're in
The million people and the things I've seen
It doesn't matter to you where I've been, 'cos

You don't listen to my radio
You don't listen to my radio
You know it feels so good in stereo
But you don't listen to my radio

The place the heart beats and there's no-one home
A pair of lovers living all alone
Insert your credit card and close your mind
One day you'll waken to the debt you find, 'cos

You don't listen to my radio
You don't listen to my radio
You know it feels so good in stereo
But you don't listen to my radio

I haven't seen you since you said 'so long'
Now I look back upon the feeling gone
These days were happy when I thought I knew
The little child I had inside of you

I tried to call you on your mobile phone
I tried to reach for you but you were gone
A place where nobody will know your name
You'll kiss a million faces, all the same, 'cos

You don't listen to my radio
You don't listen to my radio
You know it feels so good in stereo
But you don't listen to my radio

10 Radio

I wonder that we are still together.
I remember the way it used to be.
The way you'd move across to lean against me
Relaxing in the glow of our TV.

It's about time we held each other closely
It's about time I held you endlessly
It's about time we watched a film together
And it's about time you opened up to me.

The marriage that you thought would last forever
Is turned around and headed for the door.
The lover that you thought would love completely
Is looking all around for something more.

You go upstairs to bed now much too early
Asleep before I'm through the bedroom door.
How can it be that life begins at forty?
Return us to the way we were before.

11 About Time

I am the man of constant sorrow
I hope I die before I get old
I hail from the dear green town of Glasgow
I was born and raised there, or so I'm told.

Through this open world I'm bound to ramble
Through ice and snow, sleet and rain
I'm about to board the west coast mainline
Perhaps I'll dry upon that train.

Through the urban sprawl the train does trundle
Through Cambuslang and Motherwell.
On through grassy fields and sunlit uplands
I travel through a living hell.

High on the hills of Beattock summit
I see so clear what you've become.
You are the wind that shakes the barley
You're the lie upon the tongue.

You're the rainy day in late November
That's always to the Isle of Mull.
You are the mystery weekender
That always, always ends in Hull.

You are that special invitation
To the party that has passed.
You are the putt to win The Open
Rolled past the hole on threadbare grass.

High on the hills of Beattock summit
I see so clearly, I can tell.
You are the hand that stirs the quicksand
That ropes the wind on my shroud sail

Donald Fraser