56

 TELEGRAPH ROAD

A long time ago came a man on a track Walking thirty miles with a sack on his back And he put down his load where he thought it was the best He made a home in the wilderness He built a cabin and a winter store And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore And the other travellers came walking down the track And they never went further, no, they never went back Then came the churches, then came the schools Then came the lawyers, then came the rules Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads And the dirty old track was the Telegraph Road Then came the mines, then came the ore Then there was the hard times, then there was a war Telegraph sang a song about the world outside Telegraph Road got so deep and so wide Like a rolling river And my radio says tonight it's gonna freeze People driving home from the factories There's six lanes of traffic Three lanes moving slow I used to like to go to work, but they shut it down I've got a right to go to work, but there's no work here to be found Yes, and they say we're gonna have to pay what's owed We're gonna have to reap from some seed that's been sowed And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles They can always fly away from this rain and this cold You can hear them singing out their telegraph code All the way down the Telegraph Road Well, I'd sooner forget, but I remember those nights Yeah, life was just a bet on a race between the lights You had your head on my shoulder, you had your hand in my hair Now you act a little colder like you don't seem to care But just believe in me, baby, and I'll take you away From out of this darkness and into the day From these rivers of headlights, these rivers of rain From the anger that lives on the streets with these names 'Cause I've run every red light on memory lane I've seen desperation explode into flames And I don't want to see it again 

From all of these signs saying, "Sorry, but we're closed" 

All the way Down the Telegraph Road

Sultans of Swing  Instrumental

    ...                          

.......  And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone And says at last, just as the time bell rings 

"Goodnight, now it's time to go home" 

Then he makes it fast with one more thing 

"We are the Sultans We are the Sultans of Swing"

I LOVE THE DEAD

GOING HOME

Mike Tramp   Road

You get a shiver in the dark, it's raining in the park, but meantime South of the river, you stop and you hold everything A band is blowing Dixie, double-four time You feel alright when you hear that music ring Well, now you step inside, but you don't see too many faces Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down Competition in other places Ah, but the horns, they blowing that sound Way on down south Way on down south, London town You check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords Mind, he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford When he gets up under the lights to play his thing And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright He can play the honky-tonk like anything Saving it up for Friday night With the Sultans With the Sultans of Swing And a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles They don't give a damn about any trumpet-playing band It ain't what they call rock and roll And the Sultans Yeah, the Sultans, they played creole Creole 

And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone And says at last, just as the time bell rings