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Pogues
Pogues


Background information
Origin Kings Cross, London, England
Genre(s) Rock
Celtic Punk
Fusion
Folk Punk
Years active 1982—present
Website Website
Members
Shane MacGowan
James Fearnley
Spider Stacy
Jeremy 'Jem' Finer
Andrew Ranken
Phil Chevron
Terry Woods
Darryl Hunt
Former members
Joe Strummer
Cait O'Riordan
Jamie Clarke
Dave Coulter
James McNally



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  P  →  Pogues  →  Albums  →  Rum Sodomy & the Lash

Pogues Album


Rum Sodomy & the Lash (1985)
1985
1.
2.
3.
Wild Cats of Kilkenny
4.
5.
6.
7.
A Pistol for Paddy Garcia
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
. . .


McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side of you with bottles in their hands
You need one more drop of poison and you'll dream of foreign lands

When you pissed yourself in Frankfurt and got syph. down in Cologne
And you heard the rattling death trains as you lay there all alone
Frank Ryan brought you whiskey in a brothel in Madrid
And you decked some fucking blackshirt who was cursing all the Yids
At the sick bed of Cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair

And in the Euston Tavern you screamed it was your shout
But they wouldn't give you service so you kicked the windows out
They took you out into the street and kicked you in the brains
So you walked back in through a bolted door and did it all again
At the sick bed of Cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair

You remember that foul evening when you heard the banshees howl
There was lousy drunken bastards singing ‘Billy is in the bowl’
They took you up to midnight mass and left you in the lurch
So you dropped a button in the plate and spewed up in the church

Now you'll sing a song of liberty for blacks and paks and jocks
And they'll take you from this dump you're in and stick you in a box
Then they'll take you to Cloughprior and shove you in the ground
But you'll stick your head back out and shout "we'll have another round"
At the graveside of Cuchulainn we'll kneel around and pray
And God is in His heaven, and Billy's down by the bay

. . .


When I first came to London I was only sixteen
With a fiver in my pocket and my ole dancing bag
I went down to the dilly to check out the scene
And I soon ended up on the old main drag

There the he-males and the she-males paraded in style
And the old man with the money would flash you a smile
In the dark of an alley you'd work for a fiver
For a swift one off the wrist down on the old main drag

In the cold winter nights the old town it was chill
But there were boys in the cafes who'd give you cheap pills
If you didn't have the money you'd cajole or you'd beg
There was always lots of tuinol on the old main drag

One evening as I was lying down by Leicester Square
I was picked up by the coppers and kicked in the balls
Between the metal doors at Vine Street I was beaten and mauled
And they ruined my good looks for the old main drag

In the tube station the old ones who were on the way out
Would dribble and vomit and grovel and shout
And the coppers would come along and push them about
And I wished I could escape from the old main drag

And now I'm lying here I've had too much booze
I've been shat on and spat on and raped and abused
I know that I am dying and I wish I could beg
For some money to take me from the old main drag

. . .

Wild Cats of Kilkenny

[No lyrics]

. . .


Oh my name is Jock Stewart
I'm a canny gun man
And a roving young fellow I've been
So be easy and free
When you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

I have acres of land
I have men at command
I have always a shilling to spare
So be easy and free
When you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

So come fill up your glasses
Of brandy and wine
Whatever it costs I will pay
So be easy and free
When you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

Well I took out my dog
And him I did shoot
All down in the county Kildare
So be easy and free
When you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

---

These are the lyrics as they appear on the Rum, Sodomy, & The Lash insert

(Jock Stewart)
--------------------------------------

Now, my name is Jock Stewart
I'm a canny gaun man
And a roving young fellow, I've been

So be easy and free
When you're drinkin wi' me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

I have acres of land
I have men at command
I have always a shilling to spare

Now, I took out my gun
With my dog I did shoot
All down by the River Kildare

I'm a piper by trade
And a roving young blade
And many a tune I do play

Let us catch well the hours
And the minutes that fly
And we'll share them together this day

So, come fill up your glasses
Of brandy and wine
And whatever the cost, I will pay

The song is an Irish narrative ballad that has been shortened to an Aberdeenshire drinking song. It is essentially Jeannie Robertson's version, slightly modified by Archie Fisher in the third verse so the dog doesn't get shot. It is alternatively claimed by the Singing Stewarts to have been written for Bell's father

. . .


One summer evening drunk to hell
I stood there nearly lifeless
An old man in the corner sang
Where the water lilies grow
And on the jukebox Johnny sang
About a thing called love
And it's how are you kid and what's your name
And how would you bloody know?
In blood and death 'neath a screaming sky
I lay down on the ground
And the arms and legs of other men
Were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed and bled some more
And the only thing that I could see
Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me
But when we got back, labeled parts one to three
There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me

And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
For a pair of brown eyes

I looked at him he looked at me
All I could do was hate him
While Ray and Philomena sang
Of my elusive dream
I saw the streams, the rolling hills
Where his brown eyes were waiting
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes
That waited once for me
So drunk to hell I left the place
Sometimes crawling sometimes walking
A hungry sound came across the breeze
So I gave the walls a talking
And I heard the sounds of long ago
From the old canal
And the birds were whistling in the trees
Where the wind was gently laughing

And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
For a pair of brown eyes

. . .


Well Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Now Jimmy didn't like his place in this world of ours
Where the elephant man broke strong men's necks
When he'd had too many Powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that he's leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away (far away)
I'd like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

The years passed by the times had changed I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beers and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and horses to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy's making money far away
And some people left for heaven without warning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away (far away)
I'd like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

When Jimmy came back home he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak but Jimmy drank until he choked
And he took the road for heaven in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away (far away)
I'd like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

. . .

A Pistol for Paddy Garcia

[No lyrics]

. . .


I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Spring's a girl from the streets at night
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
I Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I'm gonna make me a big sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

. . .


Jesse James we understand
Has killed many a man
He robbed the Union trains
He stole from the rich
and gave to the poor
He'd a hand and a heart
and a brain

Now Jesse had a wife
Lived a lady all her life
And children they were brave
But history does record
That Bob and Charlie Ford
Have laid poor Jesse in his grave

Well it was on Saturday night
The stars were shining bright
They robbed the Glendale train
And the people they did say
for many miles away
It was those outlays
Frank and Jesse James

Now Jesse had a wife
Lived a lady all her life
And children they were brave
But history does record
That Bob and Charlie Ford
Have laid poor Jesse in his grave

Well it was Bob and Charlie Ford
Those dirty little cowards
I wonder how they feel
For they ate of Jesse's bread
and they slept in Jesse's bed
And they laid poor Jesse in his grave

Now Jesse had a wife
Lived a lady all her life
And children they were brave
But history does record
That Bob and Charlie Ford
Have laid poor Jesse in his grave

Well the people held their breath
When they heard of Jesse's death
They wondered how he came to fall
Well it was Robert Ford in fact
who shot him in the back
While he hung a picture on the wall

. . .


The canals and the bridges, the embankments and cuts,
They blasted and dug with their sweat and their guts
They never drank water but whiskey by pints
And the shanty towns rang with their songs and their fights.

Navigator, Navigator rise up and be strong
The morning is here and there's work to be done.
Take your pick and your shovel and the bold dynamite
For to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
Yes to shift a few tons of this earthly delight.

They died in their hundreds with no sign to mark where
Save the brass in the pocket of the entrepreneur.
By landslide and rockblast they got buried so deep
That in death if not life they'll have peace while they sleep.

Navigator, Navigator rise up and be strong
The morning is here and there's work to be done.
Take your pick and your shovel and the bold dynamite
For to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
Yes to shift a few tons of this earthly delight.

Their mark on this land is still seen and still laid
The way for a commerce where vast fortunes were made
The supply of an Empire where the sun never set
Which is now deep in darkness, but the railway's there yet.

Navigator, Navigator rise up and be strong
The morning is here and there's work to be done.
Take your pick and your shovel and the bold dynamite
For to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
Yes to shift a few tons of this earthly delight.

. . .


Billy ran around with the rare old crew
And he knew an Arsenal from Tottenham blue
We'd be a darn sight better of if we knew
Where Billy's bones are resting now
Billy saw a copper and he hit him in the knee
And he took him down from six foot to five foot three
Then he hit him fair and square in the do-re-mi
That copper won't be having any family

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

Billy went away with the peace-keeping force
'Cause he liked a bloody good fight of course
Went away in an old khaki van to the banks of the river Jordan
Billy saw the Arabs and he had 'em on the run
When he got 'em in the range of his sub-machine gun
Then he had the Israelis in his sights, went a ra-ta-ta
And they ran like Shiites

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

One night Billy had a rare old time,
Laughing and singing on the Lebanon line
Came back to camp not looking too pretty
Never even got to see the Holy City
Now Billy's out there in the desert sun
And his mother cries when the morning comes
And there's mothers crying all over this world
For their poor dead darling boys and girls

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

Have a Billy holiday
Born on a Monday
Married on a Tuesday
Drunk on a Wednesday
Got plugged on a Thursday
Sick on a Friday
Died on a Saturday
Buried on a Sunday

. . .


It's of a gentleman soldier
as sentry he did stand
He saluted a fair maiden
by a waiving of his hand
So then he boldly kissed her
and he passed it off as a joke
He drilled her up in the sentry box
wrapped up in a soldier's cloke

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
And the fifes they loudly play
Fare you well Polly my dear
I must be going away

All night they tossed and tumbled
till the daylight did appear
The soldier rose, put on his clothes,
saying, Fare you well my dear
For the drums they are a beating
and the fifes they so sweetly play
If it weren't for that Polly my dear
with you I'd gladly stay

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
And the fifes they loudly play
Fare you well Polly my dear
I must be going away

Now come you gentleman soldier,
won't you marry me?
Oh no my dearest Polly
such things can never be
for I've a wife already
children I have three
Two wives are allowed in the army
but one's too many for me

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
And the fifes they loudly play
Fare you well Polly my dear
I must be going away

If anyone comes a courting you,
you can treat them to a glass
If anyone comes a courting you,
you can say you're a country lass
You needn't ever tell them,
nor pass it off as a joke
That you got drilled in a sentry box
wrapped up in a soldier's cloke

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
And the fifes they loudly play
Fare you well Polly my dear
I must be going away

Oh it's come my gentleman soldier,
why didn't you tell me so? My parents will be angy
when this they come to know When nine months had been and gone
the poor girl she brought shame
She had a little militia boy
and she didn't know his name

And the drums are going a rap a tap tap
And the fifes they loudly play
Fare you well Polly my dear
I must be going away

. . .


When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be
done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the
cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
When the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He showered us with bullets, he rained us with
shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
And we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

Now those who were living did their best to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for seven long weeks I kept myself alive
While the corpses around me piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, Christ I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
And no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
To the green bushes so far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded and maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind and insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
And they turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving their dreams of past glory
I see the old men, all twisted and torn
The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask me, "What are they
marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march beside the billabong
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me?

. . .


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