COST OF LIVING 1983. ® Music - Rick Wakeman. Lyrics - Tim Rice, except ELEGY - Thomas Gray 1. TWIJ (Instrumental) 2. PANDAMONIA I hear it down in the hole Hear it out on the street And if they're found, they'll warn us An indestructible beat It's the same every day Hardly merits a fuss Just a pull and a tweak And an evil in us I hear the noise of the feet I'm going to shove it somewhere A lovely day for a fight Another troll to explain They're screaming out, "who'll be next?" As they get onto the bus Next into the womb They're bulldog to us I hear it out in the space Where the fields used to be I'll be the hell on the earth It's the price that I'll pay An inescapable crime And it's so easy to suss Tell the world, we destroy Kill it, evil quick Us There isn't much you can do Not a lot you can say Pandamonia reigns And the rain may stop the lady It's like disease that we pay Nothing more to discuss Just for me coming back We've been missing some When you thought over old times With a client or two At peace and in pieces We'll tell something new Don't make us win And there'll be no major plus Don't move... (?) We'll stick with our Ah ah ah ah ah 3. GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN (Instrumental) 4. ONE FOR THE ROAD You're standing hands in pockets Back to the wall 19 and six foot two But not standing tall He's got a bit He'll catch a girlfriend or two But black white or yellow His color is blue Hey, get on with life Stop moaning Get off your back Where's the spirit that This beat generation lacks You've no pride No moral fibre, no rules, no code I'm not like you I'll have one for the road But some part's been broken Up on the sad and low She knows he won't be Calling her name anymore She spends all day gazing Down at the square Wondering what happened to The perfect affair Hey, get on with life Stop moaning Get off your back Where's the spirit that This beat generation lacks You've no pride No moral fibre, no rules, no code I'm not like you The boys all roam London Where you've got nothing You've got a lot To prove or die They'll raise a little local trouble Corner some, and break some more Tell them why They're outta work And in the hole On the streets again They ain't no never (gonna have) Any life They're out of work again With three million friends In the line The boys are on the move When you've got nothing You got a lot to prove Or die (It's no good to me) I'll have one for the road (It's no good to me) Just one for the road (It's nothing to me) I'll have one for the road (It's nothing to me) One for the road It's nothing to me Nothing to me Nothing to me (Backs to the wall, the wall) He's in the bar Where he's been half the nights There ain't no problem That he hasn't put right He knows the way to get shot of his load Solves every crisis With a foot on the road Hey, get on with life Stop fooling Get off your back Where's the spirit that This beat generation lacks You've no pride No moral fibre, no rules, no code I'm not like you I'll have one for the road I'll have one for the road One for the road 5. BEDTIME STORIES (Instrumental) "...Will you tell me a story?... One... two... three... four..." "...I'm going to sleep now. Night-night..." 6. HAPPENING MAN Hey hey hey hey hey hey Hey (hey) down on the farm (the farm) A sudden change is calling me (me) I'm getting tired (getting tired) Of winning all the perks inside of me Lifting the little little grip And head to town (town) Seeing that it's not OK See them all jumping (see them all jump) I could be something (you could be something) I could be someone (you could be someone) I could be a happening man I sat in the fields To load the grass Going higher (higher, higher, higher) I need some nights of nights Some days with fire (You need, you need some fire You need some fire, you need some fire You need some fire, you need it now) I won stars With my prize fighting Crawling at night You know my love Could you be my lover My love Could you be my lover I want cars, want concrete I want gas, electricity (A modern man, won't you be my lover) (A modern man, won't you be my lover) Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha I'm a happening man Look hey (hey) Look at the field (I've got it) A line of trucks arriving Such beautiful toys They catch the sun Wish I was driving This could be the chance I've waited for Now (now) I'll go wild (go wild) Let me get my hands on those controls Turn those dials Throw those switches I'll feel the 20th Century Telling me all the same A terrible jumping (a terrible jumping) I could be something (you could be something) I could've been there (you could have been there) Got to get my share (got to get your share) Could've been someone (you could've been someone) I could be someone (you could've been someone) I could be a happening man Hey, look at me now I'm not a hundred miles from My little acre I'm not going to talk Don't tell me to tell you I converted to a new category dream I'm going to have while it works 7. SHAKESPEARE RUN (Instrumental) 8. MONKEY NUTS Buy a good clean living aid By climbing through my cage I've got used to living life As if I was on stage People like to look at me I score with old and young I must fight a very handsome battle (?) And go home (?) Bars are all that separate me from the human ape Otherwise we're just the same Why bother to escape They have all the nasty habits None of us display (?) Which of us has got it right It's not for me to say I could out-stare anyone Who comes to stare at me I could show them weird things They didn't come to see Drawing crowds in minutes then With one repulsive move Make them scatter Rush for exits (?) Then you learn the truth (?) Who's on the outside Who's looking in Who will come from who Who is origin When the line is drawn When the tale is just Who is the primate Who is monkey nuts I say... That spotty little thing's just taken my banana 9. ELEGY - WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lee The ploughman homeward plods his weary way And leaves the world to darkness And to me Now fades the glimmering landscape on the site And all the air a solemn stillness holds Save where the beetle wheels his drewning flight And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds Save that from yonder isly mantle tower The moping owl doest to the moon complain Of such as, wondering near her secret bower Molest her ancient solitary reign Beneath those rugged elms that yew tree shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap Each in his narrow cell forever laid The rude forefathers of the hamlets The breezy call of incense breathing morn The swallow twittering from the strawdirt church The cock's shrill clarion of the echoing hoard No more to arouse them from their noble death For them no more the blazing hearths will burn Or busy housewifes ply their evening care No children run to list their sires return Or climb his knees, the envied kiss to share Oft' did the harvest to their sick weald Their furrow oft' a stubborn glebe was broke How jockened did they drive their team afield How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke Let not ambition rock their useful toil Their homely joys and destiny obscure Nor grandeur here with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor The boast of heraldry The pomp of power And all that beauty All that wealth 'er-gave Awakes alike the inevitable hour The paths of glory lead but to the grave Nor you 'ere prow Impute to these the fault of memory Or their tool no trophies raise Where through the long drawn aisle Of threaded vault The peeling anthem swells a note of praise The stored urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid some heart Once pregnant with celestial fire Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed Or wake to ecstacy The living liar The knowledge to their eyes Her ample page Rich with the spoils of time Did n'er unroll 'Til penury repressed their noble rage And froze the genial current of the soul For many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear For many a flower is born to blush unseen And wasted sweetness on the desert air Some village hamlet But with dauntless breast the little tyrant of his fields Withstood some mute and glorious pilgrim Here may rest Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood The applause of listening senates to command The threats of pain and ruin to despise To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land And weave their history in a nation's eyes Their lot forbade Nor circumscribed alone their growing virtues But their crimes confide The mad to wade through slaughter to a throne And shut the gates of mercy on mankind The struggling pangs of concious truth to hide To quench the blushes of ingenious shame Or heat the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the muses' flame Far from the madding crowds Ingnoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way Yet in these bones, from insult To protect some frail memorial Still erected nigh With uncouth rhymes And shapeless sculptured debt Implores the passing tribute of a sigh Their name Their years Spelt by the unlettered muse The place of fame and elegy supply And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die For who, to dumb forgetfulness at pray This pleasing anxious being 'er resigned Left the warm precints of the cheerful day Or cast one longing, lingering look behind On some fond breast the parting soul relies Some pious drops the closing eye requires E'en from the tomb The voice of nature cries E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires To thee, who mindful of the un-honoured dead Doest in these lines their artless tale relate If chance, by lonely contemplation led To some kindred spirit, should enquire thy fate Happily some hoary headed swain may say Oft' we've seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the aplen lawn There at the foot of yonder nodding beach That weaves its old fantastic route so high Its listless lenght at moontide Would he stretch And pour upon the brook that babbles by Hard by yon wood Now smiling at him scorn Muttering his wayward fancys he would roam Now drooping Would for one Like one forlorn Or crazed with care Or crossed in hopeless love One morn' I missed him on the 'customed hill Along the heath And near his favourite tree Another came Nor yet beside the rill Nor up the lawn Nor at the wood was he The next Its dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path We saw him borne Approach and read For thou canst read The ley graved on the stone Beneath yon aged thorn Here rests his head Upon the lap of earth The youth to fortune and to fame unknown Fair science frowned not on his humble birth And melancholy marked him for her own Large was his bounty And his soul sincere Heaven did a recompense as largely send He gave to misery all he had A tear, he gained from heaven T'was all he wished A friend No father seek his merits to disclose Or draw his frailties from their dread abode There they alike in trembling hope repose The bosom of his father and his god