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Street Dogs




Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  S  →  Street Dogs  →  Дискография  →  Savin Hill

Альбом Street Dogs



2003
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Chapter 33
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. . .


Savin Hill my starting point
Down the beach with a few beers
Didn't know what life had in for us
Starting out at St. Margarets
Up there on that lonely hill
I got my start in 1970
Moved on down to Motley school
Down to St. Willies from there
The catholic golden rule got hooks in me
Sister Robad, Ms. Coughlin, the teachers and their authority
I put my fists up to them at every turn

Savin Hill it was my start
Beginning of a lifetime
I still remember those days clearly
Cannot forget my roots
Or when it really started
Savin Hill down by the beach

Grades on to eight were nuts
Hi-jinx, stunts and pranks pulled out
Me and my cousin Bill, the terrible two
Danny, Joey, Robby, John, Saxon and Victoria
Many a long neck bottle cracked down there

Savin Hill it was my start
From the courts back to the park
The weekend time seemed so damn free
If you had my back, I took yours
Our obligatory creed
Savin Hill down by the beach

Do you remember the tennis courts?
The bungalow or Harpo's bench
Do you remember jumping that bridge?
The risks we took and our chances?
GO!

The later years brought on alcohol nights
Coupled with petty arguments and barroom fights
We never broke apart and we stood our ground
If a cohort was lost he was found
If things got hot, Dorchester stayed cool
No other townies came toward us fools
Savin Hill down by the beach
It's these memories I'll go preach
Savin Hill is where it all began

. . .


The handwriting was on the wall, but I refused to read it
Our end always hung in the balance, apparent to both me and you
But now you're looking for the coward's way out, and that's unbelievable
To back out on someone when they're down is totally unforgivable

(Chorus:)
Cutdown on the 12th, You picked a great day to think of your self
Cutdown on the 12th, on a day where I scream for your help
Cutdown on the 12th, and I won't forgive your selfishness
Cutdown on the 12th, will forever distrust you

In the eleventh hour, you make a fake gesture
You want to try and work it out, but you've been sent out to pasture
Don't forget to clean up your things and leave my place for good
You've got two faces but I've only seen the evil one

(Chorus)

(Bridge:)
You've got two faces, and I never liked your evil one
You go to places, mostly to your rubber room
You've got two faces; I've barely seen the kind one
You go to places; the second one is your crazy head

(Chorus)

. . .


I can't stop these visions in my head
When I wake up in the morning and I get out of bed
When the revelry is calling me and I don't want to rise
I roll around and write it down and then to my surprise

I don't want you to see things troubling me
And I don't want you to see things troubling you

How can I turn away my
Hopes and dreams so fast I
I cannot help but thing that
My time won't last
How am I going to make my mark?
When am I going to get my star?
When will the success ship come into port
And go and dock?

I have another idea that's keeping me alive
A story that intertwines positivity and drive
It's the simplest things and it's all to real
Like rock and roll and sell your soul and how I feel

. . .


Remember those five-dollar days armed with a paintbrush
And how he's soldiered on with hard work and full coffee cups
You inspired me, with your tenacity
Never laying down to your disease
Kenny Walls, this one goes out to you


Clad with a scally cap and numerous tattoos
You always soldiered on, thought a lifetime worth of dues
We will not forget the example you laid
Never quitting regardless of obstacles made
Hey tough, we're singing your praises here

This is an ode to a man who spent his whole life in a fight
Never getting counted out at all or ducking from our sight
Our eulogy for him is clear, we know just what to say
Kenny Walls he was a fighter right up to his passing day

You got your DC35 and worked hard at your trade
People were impressed with the efforts that you made
When it came to music you loved your punk
Never privy to pop or disco junk
Kenny Walls, this chorus is sent to you

. . .

Chapter 33

[Нет текста]

. . .


We've passed the point of argument, the tension fills the air
I try to mediate diplomatically, but you don't even care
It's time to put them up and throw them down
Take this squabble round to round
Have a row, time to throw, can't see nothing but red

High time for the justifiable fisticuffs
No more debate games, justifiable fisticuffs
Justifiable fisticuffs, you've got to know when enough's enough
When it's viable, call their bluff, we need to get it out!

The battle starts, the two engage
Toe to toe, they vent their rage
Hooks from here, leads go there, the battle now ensues
But they could be more, another fight
Passions flare and skin grows tight
Thank the lord there are two more bouts on the undercard tonight

The boxing stops, the fight concludes
Blows were tossed and insults cued
It's all over, it's all through, the judges make the call
Card to card, point to point, the judges make no sense at all
Malay starts, the crowd goes nuts
A donnybrook has come

We've had enough, we've called your bluff
We've had enough, we've really had enough

. . .


Loser, some times I feel, but I know it's not real
I've told myself this a million times before
Time and time again, I try to see things 'til the end
But sometimes something seems to hold me right back to the ground

Over and over again, I think of what it could have been
If I had kept my head on straight and out of the clouds
This feeling inside of me, nowhere left to hide
It's like a bomb waiting to explode inside of me

You've got to stand up for yourself
Don't rely on no one else
Only you know where you stand in life
Go after your dreams
It's easier than it seems
Only you know where you stand in life

Take some time to figure out just what it's all about
And keep on holding on to what's dear to you
I think that in the end what it comes to my friend
Is to enjoy life and to keep on holding on and on

. . .


I met a girl at the bar during last call
I should have known that it wouldn't go real far
She sucked me in by the way she stared at me
Now she's gone and it stings
Now I see

In the beginning it seemed really cool
I should have known that I would play the fool
Over and over, I said I'd never do it again
But I think I like the pain
When it ends

When it ends it always tears my stomach out
I'm gonna miss the way I used to make her shout
I know one day another girl will come around
Another chance just to say goodbye
When it ends

You'll be single, solitary
Just like you were before the start
When it ends

. . .


Take your soapbox rants and your politics
Stick them where the sun don't shine
Won't solicit your advice
You're on the red carpet
Espousing your opinions
Why can't you just shut your mouth
Don't tell us how to feel

Don't preach to me, I cannot hear you
Don't preach to me, we really won't care
Don't preach to me, you're so self-righteous
You're a celebrity

They wear views on their sleeves
Thinking that it counts
But we have minds of our own
Sarandon shut your mouth
Just stick to the acting
Films and TV shows
Give us time to think for ourselves
Please give us that much

Yet these stars don't get it
We have minds of our own
We're capable of opinions
Madonna hit the road


Don't preach to me, we're not backin' you
Don't preach to me, we really won't care
Don't preach to me, you're so self-righteous
You're a celebrity

. . .


When you're stuck in a deep, self reflective mode
Reach for 2 bottles of sorrow
When you feel like your will to live will implode
Reach for 2 bottles of sorrow

Sometimes it's tough just to summon a smile
Or walk that long recovery mile
If you can't find your way and lost all recourse
Reach for 2 bottles of sorrow

I've seen so much in the last 2 years
(Made me) reach for 2 bottles of sorrow
Through parochial pride, I've battled those tears
(Gonna) reach for 2 bottles of sorrow

Don't try and go talking to me
Because I'll just run and then mentally flee
I can't find my way, I've lost all recourse
Reach for 2 bottles of sorrow

. . .


Woke up this morning, wondered what planet I was on
On the cover of a Rolling Stone was another dumb young blonde
While the icons of our day all slowly fade away
Paving way for a new crop of garbage clones with nothing new to say

And if you want to shout about the madness of these days
Throw your fists into the air, turn off your TV and sing this song with me

This is our generation's call to make a stand - a declaration
Come together, rise up all young women and young men - our generation

Nothing new on the evening news, more fear and anxiety
Another war, another sick, sick sign of our corrupt society
How many soldiers march and die under the blanket of democracy
While the rich mans sons conveniently go to Ivy League University

You can't just stand by friend and do nothing cause
Your chance to act has come, rise up and make the difference

. . .


It started back in '94 with the passing of a Boston Jake
And all it took to grab my heart was the sound that the bagpipes made
So on with my life I go with experiences gained through work
But the dream to get on the job in my heart and mind always keeping me focussed

It was a tribute to a fallen brother and from across the nation
Peers showed up to show their appreciation

Boston Jakes are on duty and they're ready
At a blaze or incident, so focussed and real steady

In double zero the job came in, the dream was realized
I felt a sense of purpose, pride and complete fullfillment
But with the job comes real life danger, sacrifices that's the code spoke
The territory that goes with my decision to take the job

Boston Jakes are on duty and they're ready
At a blaze or incident, so focussed and real steady
Boston Jakes committed to the people they serve
Never hesitating to jump to action or lend a hand

. . .


As I'm walking down the street, I found the things that trouble me
Are always easier to define when I have a clearer mind
Always thinking of certain things and all the happiness you'd bring
But now it's over and we need to move on

To move on
To move on
Last call to you, told me everything was through
Last call to you, reminds me what not to do

A new day is on the rise, and I feel to my surprise
That you're a memory of what was and what used to be
Every time I think of you, I'm reminded of what not to do
But you'll always have a place in my heart

In my heart
In my heart
Last call to you, told me everything was through
Last call to you, reminds me what not to do

Too many promises were void, and we both got so annoyed
Out of all the things that were once said
The one thing that sticks in my head

In my head
In my head
Last call to you, told me everything was through
Last call to you, reminds me what not to do

. . .


I'm sitting in this cell for something I didn't do
And all I can think of is baby I think of you
Don't worry baby coming back for you

There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout

Now I've got the chance I don't care about what I do
When I done them things I done them just for you
And now I'm getting out coming back for you

There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout

Well now I'm over the wall I'm nearly home
I'm coming through that door coming back to you
Now I'm nearly home nearly back for you

There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout
There's gonna be a borstal Boston breakout

. . .


Some people will go for years, without ever finding their place
Not us we are the lucky ones, for we know who we truly are
Not privy to abstract thinking, reality's a trusted friend
Not giving in to idealism, we'll stay real 'til the end

PUNCH THE CLOCK!

I don't ascribe to things, being tougher these days than the days before
People have been getting by for years, on mental toughness and the grit

Hey we're just workers, confident and realistic, we know where we stand
Hey we're just workers, not going crazy over events or current trends
Staying focussed on our duties, and good times 'til the end

Don't have any axes to grind, or agendas to seek
Accepted our place in life, got comfort in being meek
Don't have any axes to grind, any words to search
A total comfort in where and who we are since our birth

Today's organized worker is an endangered species.
For corporate terrorism is cloaked in the guise of fiscal downsizing
amidst a company recording huge profits. For today's worker, fair
and humane treatment with adequate wages are now just old
memories, nailed into an outdated history book. Which doesn't help
the current masses of mistreated workers, who are unable to
organize because of fear of reprisals, from profit hungry greedsters
ala Gordy Gecko. How do these CEO thugs and mobsters in good
conscience export American jobs day after day?
How much is enough?
Or to these robber barons is there such a thing or a concept of enough?
How many cars do you need?
How many boats?
How many houses?
How many financed mistresses?
How do you look in the mirror?
How can you sleep at night?
Well just remember this, all that you self-righteously stand for...
WE WILL FIGHT!

. . .


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