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Lyrics: Songs for a Tailor














































Lyrics by Pete Brown.  © Warner Chappell Music.

Never Tell Your Mother She's Out of Tune
When I hear that big black whistle they blow
I feel inside that it's time for me to be going
Fortunately baby I'd already gone before

When they say I'm worth ten pieces of coal
And you shouting hey what about when you are an old man
Fortunately baby I'd already locked the door

They say there are men who are blue like me in the stars
Beards for the weird and bars for bizarre guitarmen
Fortunately baby I'd already joined the force

Good time train well it does not need any track
It wins the race to the place where I'm gonna pack up
Fortunately baby I'd already grabbed the sky

All the days that the road has spent on me
Judges shout you've got to slave to be a freeman
Fortunately baby I am never coming back

Good time train, good time train . . .

Theme for an Imaginary Western
When the wagons leave the city
for the forest and further on
Painted wagons of the morning
dusty roads where they have gone
Sometimes travelling through the darkness
met the summer coming home
Fallen faces by the wayside
looked as if they might have known

O the sun was in their eyes
and the desert that dries
In the country town
where the laughter sounds

O the dancing and the singing
O the music when they played
O the fires that they started
O the girls with no regret
Sometimes they found it
Sometimes they kept it
Often lost it on the way
Fought each other to possess it
Sometimes died in sight of day

Tickets to Waterfalls
I bought you tickets for the waterfalls
and you poured away all the change
Trained your bicycle to dance
told it tales of window boxes and people with locks
While you filed away the time
and lost the place in the river

Couldn't do anything about the days
But I helped with some of the nights
You worked my blisters to the bone
playing songs of tiny men and bridges in wine
While you led the time astray
and lost your head in the rainbow

You never saw anything glittering
but you had to melt it down
I made you rivers all run dry
soaked them up with train timetables and carpets of lies
And I listened to your smile
and found my place in the morning

Weird of Hermiston
I'm going to a wedding dressed in black
I'm going to a party, won't be back
And I'm not going with you . . . no . . .
Trees are no longer a comfort
Messages sad in the wires
My hair is hung down with the blackest of rain that I'm feeling

I'm going to the river, wash my tears
I'm going to the mountains, cool my fears
That I'm not going with you . . . no . . .
Skies are no longer a comfort
Leaves turning black with the autumn
The corn is hung down with the heaviest weight that I'm feeling

I'm going to a funeral dressed in white
I'm going to a nightclub, to sleep with night
And I'm not going with you . . . no . . .
Love is no longer a comfort,
Fantastic times are forgotten
My heart is hung down with the saddest of rain that I'm feeling

Rope Ladder to the Moon
You asked me to a party
to a house just by the moon
You gave me silver loving
the end was all too soon

You asked me to the theatre
in a place quite near the sun
You gave me golden sunbeams
your act was all in fun

Rope ladder to moon!

You asked me to a meeting
in a cottage in the snow
You gave me central heating
I can't forget the glow

You asked me to a weekend
down by the stormy sea
You took me to a ceremony
and the sacrifice – was me !

You asked me to a stromcloud
up near the rainbow's end
Then you threw away the ladder
and gave me to your friend

You took me to a prison
and you said its chief was me
Then you locked me deep inside you
and thew away the key

Rope ladder to the moon !




The Ministry of Bag
It's all blues and no dinner
at the Ministry of Bag
The steaks are getting thinner
the office is a drag
It's all hills and no mountain
in the cupboard of the Few
The soda has no fountain
the coal gets in the dew

It's all chief and no father
down the avenue of lane
The soap has lost its lather
the loves gone down the drain
It's all time and no future
at the Department of Breath
The clothes aint made to suit you
the peas are boiled to death

It's hang the girls and young men
on the ropes of tweedy mind
The speedy sneaky tonguemen
have left them all behind
It's all tripe and no liver
at the cafe of the Neat
The cooks jumped in the river
the menu smells of feet

It's all swamp and no mosquitoes
along the stripes of pin
The boots have all the vetoes
and the bags to put them in
It's all blues and no dinner
at the Ministry of Bag
The steaks are getting thinner
the office is a drag

He the Richmond
There comes an affair in the tides of men
When you can't go back again
Yes there comes a darkness in the affairs of light
When you can't hold back the night
So you go where your mind will keep
Where the rain plays the restless to sleep
On the notes of a broken piano

O the rivers and the seas and you that ride them forever
They called my name to your darkeyed ranks to leave them never
Yes my name it is written in the sand
And it can't escape your sweeping hand

There comes a time as tides must come
When they leave, take some, leave some
Yes there comes a wave in the seas of men
When you can't swim back again
So you go where your mind will keep
Where the wind lulls the restless to sleep
In the beams of the broken headlights

Boston Ball Game 1967
Hey when            Well hello there baby
the time comes     if you hate it
will you                hate it so much
won't you            Why not leave it
keep your head     maybe try like me too?
In the games        We who were your fathers
of the                  Have shared out all
sunshine?             tomorrows sunshine

Well that              Time is passing baby
time has come       if you let it
and you                it will make you
can't do               do what they want
what you want      Maybe be like them too
now your mind       Those who were our fathers
is not                   Peer from inside their towers
looking                  looking

To Isnegard
And so our time is fields of sleep
And so our bed is endless deep
And so the waves are grass in sun
And so our time has just begun
And so our love moves much too fast
And sun and sleep can never last
love is lost
but one . . . but once

The time was ours we never cared
For soaring flights that eagles dared
The air was full of peaceful birds
Your eyes were moist unspoken words
And so our love moves much too fast
And sun and eyes can never last

Fire is lost
but one . . . but once

Over the hills the good times
are sitting under grey clouds
And the sound of the love songs
Is being lost in the crowds
of the magical lessons
that you taught me from the walls
I forgot all the path ways
and I remembered the falls

remember . . .

The Clearout
You say you don't want me
Well I don't want you to go
You say you don't need me
You shut my hair in the door
You say you won't have me
You're leaving my wound all sore

Chorus: Breakfast is goodnight
            Yesterdays are old meals now
            Times ripe for clearout

You say you can't eat it
Well I don't have any food
Yu say you can't face it
Well I'm not in any mood
You say you don't need it
You're leaving my head all chewed


You say you can't stand it
well why don't you let it sit
You say you can't dig it
yet you'll never let me quit
you say you can't use it
you won't find a better fit