| Lyrics: | Transcribed by ear by David Chance
Notes from David Chance:
I transcribed
these lyrics from the version performed on the Irish TV show Talk About Pop October 11, 1973
(sometimes dated September 11, 1973)...different from the P. Stone lyrics, but perhaps enough to
help... For the guitarists here, the generic chord progression is G-Bm-C-D7...
See also the
version released on The Philosopher's Stone
I was talkin' to the judge
just
before we left the countryside,
paper in his hand,
tryin' to find a way.
Goin' by the
book,
Man, you oughtta make a serial.
Ripped the pages out
'fore they pull the final
curtain down.
I remember the day
just like the Drumshanbo hustle.
We couldn't hear
no birds,
they were makin' not a sound.
They were tryin' to muscle in,
an easy way to
bring the money in.
You were pukin' up your guts
when you read the contract had been
signed.
Prostitution on the run,
'ceptin what it was last night.
Tryin' to
drain you dry,
couldn't get too much rope.
Tryin' to take 'em down
just to see how
far it all would go.
Wasn't goin' very far
and she didn't let it bring you down.
Just remember the day,
just like the Drumshanbo hustle.
I couldn't hear no
birds,
they were makin' not a sound.
They were drivin' motionless
on the recording
and the publishing.
You were pukin' up your guts
when you read the contract had been
signed.
New York hooker style,
and the tarot and astronomy.
Tell you every
star,
didn't even get your sign.
Well they were lookin' for a scam,
a little
paperback novel or a little magazine,
but you left it all behind
when you pulled the rug
from underneath her feet.
Just rememberin' the day,
Drumshanbo hustle.
Well
you couldn't hear no birds,
they were makin' not a sound.
They were tryin' to muscle
in,
an easy way to bring the money in.
You were pukin' up your guts
when you read the
actual contract had been signed.
You were pukin' up your guts
when you heard the contract
had you signed.
You were pukin' up your guts
when you heard the contract, the contract,
had you signed |
