CRAZY LIFE ON THE ROAD

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Just some of the characters from songs on the album I’m currently working on. The idea (OK, I know its a gimmick) is to make the insert card and publicity material a guess who quiz. The above include: Charles Darwin. Napoleon Bonaparte, Genghis Khan, Attilla the Hun, Alexander The Great, Jesus Christ, Tom Paine and Hannibal – all from Broken Biscuits.

The song is partly a rant about the way older people are sometimes side-lined and denied respect in our increasingly youth orientated society, despite often having led remarkable lives. However it’s also a satirical comment on Western imperialism – not something I set out to write but just seemed to appear (I only realised this a while after finishing the song).

The title song, Crazy Life On The Road, is a fictionalised account of my adventures with old cars. Most of my life I’ve driven jalopies – too broke for anything else – which has often meant breaking down in some way out places. Also, I recall times when I hitch-hiked around the UK and Europe in search of adventure with a copy of Jack Kerouac’s ‘On The Road’ in my pocket.

 

C.  I am a very old man – what have I to offer?

Just a pile of memories, and the aches and pains I suffer.

And these broken biscuits – crumbs all over the floor.

Broken biscuits – not much more.

 

I conquered the world with Napoleon, Hannibal and Alexander,

Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun, and we all went tumbling after.

We travelled east and we travelled west, till ever land was taken,

And every high street looked the same, and we called it civilisation.

 

I fought so many battles, but the killing it never ended.

No one knew why it began, though everyone pretended.

We lived a life of luxury with all the riches we had plundered,

Champagne and caviar, and all the rest was squandered.

 

Tom Paine said its common sense – Darwin evolution.

Either way get off your backs and join the revolution.

And so we manned the barricades and kept the red flag flying,

But those who gave the orders were not the ones for dying.

 

I heard the sermon on the mount, and the followers of the prophet.

Wept awhile at the wailing wall, would you ever Adam and Eve it?

Now I walk the streets of Jerusalem, of Mecca and Varanasi,

Wondering why everybody seemed, just the same as you and me.

 

I found a girl or rather she found me, and love was all that mattered,

And all the ones that went before to the four winds they were scattered

We live in perfect harmony till we began back-biting.

Lucky I knew what to do – let the lawyers do the fighting.

 

Now my story’s at an end, God knows what comes after.

But sometimes it seems I hear the sound of distant laughter.

I’ve done my time for nearly every crime and never will deny it.

So hangman go on do your worst, at least the grave is quiet.

 

MB © 2013

 

 

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