Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy
Album - 19 maggio 1975 - Debaser id 13192

Captain fantastic raised and regimented, hardly a hero
Just someone his mother might know
Very clearly a case for corn flakes and classics
"two teas both with sugar please"
In the back of an alley

While little dirt cowboys turned brown in their saddles
Sweet chocolate biscuits and red rosy apples in summer
For it’s hay make and "hey mom, do the papers say anything good.
Are there chances in life for little dirt cowboys
Should I make my way out of my home in the woods"


Brown dirt cowboy, still green and growing
City slick captain
Fantastic the feedback
The honey the hive could be holding
For there’s weak winged young sparrows that starve in the winter
Broken young children on the wheels of the winners
And the sixty-eight summer festival wallflowers are thinning


For cheap easy meals and hardly a home on the range
Too hot for the band with a desperate desire for change
We’ve thrown in the towel too many times
Out for the count and when we’re down
Captain fantastic and the brown dirt cowboy
From the end of the world to your town


And all this talk of jesus coming back to see us
Couldn’t fool us
For we were spinning out our lines walking on the wire
Hand in hand went music and the rhyme
The captain and the kid stepping in the ring
From here on sonny sonny sonny, it’s a long and lonely climb

Captain Fantastic

Snow.
Cement,
And ivory young towers,
Someone called us Babylon
Those hungry hunters
Tracking down the hours.
But where all your shoulders when cried,
Were the darlings on the sideline
Dreaming up such cherished lies,
To whisper in your ear before you die.

It's party time for the guys in the tower of Babel.
Sodom meet Gomorrah,
Cain meet Abel.
Have a ball ya�ll
See the letches crawl
With the call girls under the table.
Watch 'em dig their graves,
'cause Jesus don't save the guys
in the tower of Babel

Junk.
Angel,
This closet�s always stacked.
The dealers in the basement
Filling you prescription,
For a brand new heart attack.

But where all your shoulders when we cried,
Were the doctors in attendance
Saying how they felt so sick inside.
Or was it just the scalpel blade that lied.

I'm going on the circuit, I'm doing all the clubs
And I really need a song boys to stir those workers up
And get their wives to sing it with me just like in the pubs
When I worked the good old pubs in Stepney

Oh could you knock a line or two together for a friend
Sentimental tear inducing with a happy end
And we need a tune to open our season at Southend
Can you help us

It's hard to write a song with bitter fingers
So much to prove, so few to tell you why
Those old die-hards in Denmark Street start laughing
At the keyboard player's hollow haunted eyes
It seems to me a change is really needed
I'm sick of tra-la-las and la-de-das
No more long days hacking hunks of garbage
Bitter fingers never swung on swinging stars, swinging stars

I like the warm blue flame, the hazy heat it brings
It loosens up the muscles and forces you to sing
You know it's just another hit and run from the tin pan alley twins

And there's a chance that one day you might write a standard lads
So churn them out quick and fast and we'll still pat your backs
'Cause we need what we can get to launch another dozen acts
Are you working

There was a face on a hoarding that someone had drawn on
And just enough time for the night to pass by without warning
Away in the distance there's a blue flashing light
Someone's in trouble somewhere tonight
As the flickering neon stands ready to fuse
The wind blows away all of yesterday's news

Well they've locked up their daughters and they battened the hatches
They always could find us but they never could catch us
Through the grease streaked windows of an all night cafe
We watched the arrested get taken away
And that cigarette haze has ecology beat
As the whores and the drunks filed in from the street

`Cause the steams in the boiler the coals in the fire
If you ask how I am then I'll just say inspired
If the thorn of a rose is the thorn in your side
Then you're better off dead if you haven't yet died

I used to know this old scarecrow
He was my song
My joy and sorrow
Cast alone between the furrows
Of a field no longer sown by anyone

I held a dandelion
That said the time had come
To leave upon the wind
Not to return
When summer burned the earth again

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh....

Cultivate the freshest flower
This garden ever grew
Beneath these branches
I once wrote such childish words for you

But that's okay
There's treasure children always seek to find
And just like us
You must have had
A once upon a time

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh..