miscellaneous

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Bongo Beatniks
Don't Drop The Soap (For Anyone Else But Me)
Free Of It All
Funzone
Only A Hobo
The Man In The Long Black Coat
Two Guys With A Lot On Their Minds
Footnotes

bongo beatniks

Sittin' in the gaslight
Pickin' our goatees
Drinkin' cups of java
And talkin' with the fleas
Me? I got my shades on
Beret is pulled down low
Someone turns the lights on
And interrupts my flow

Chorus:
Bongo beatniks
Dig it daddy-o
Bongo beatniks
Waiting for Godot
Bongo beatniks
Dig it daddy-o
Bongo beatniks
Waiting for Godot

Diggin' bebop music
While the room is full of smoke
People snap their fingers
And ho-dads chew on rope
I'm groovin' to the beat
On the swingin' rhythm trail
I'm so cool I'm frozen
But I'll thaw out in jail

Chorus repeat

And I defect from everything I see
And I defect from the university

Sittin' in the gaslight
Pickin' our goatees
Drinkin' cups of java
And talkin' with the fleas
Me? I got my shades on
Beret is pulled down low
Someone turns the lights on
And interrupts my flow
My flow

Chorus repeat

Bongo beatniks!
Bongo beatniks!
Bongo beatniks!
Bongo beatniks!
Bongo beatniks!
Bongo beatniks!

stan says

I found this just the other day in a brown paper bag with some other stuff on cassette from the late 70's. Not bad, this. Its a rockin' little tune. The modern poets Samuel Beckett and Allen Ginsberg and the Ramones converged here to help me write this in 1975 as a song to hear something that WAS NOT on the radio at the time. I was playing top 40 gigs in Diamond Bar and trying to get my shit together. This was me finding out what I thought about writing songs and getting dead tired of Wings and The Doobie Brothers. Beatniks making a comeback. Me and my art bum friends could feel something musical was gonna blow wide open round '75... gee... guess it finally did! I played this just once in a place called "The Three Little Pigs" in West Covina just one time, and a 300 pound guy with an eye patch threw a beer at me. Pretty scary, but I finished the song. Beatniks never quit.

credits

Copyright 1975 by Stan Ridgway
Written and produced by: Stanard Ridgway

performers

Stanard Ridgway: like, everything you hear, man.

don't drop the soap (for anyone else but me)

Also found on Pecker soundtrack

Commisioned for the film Pecker.

There's a guard in the tower
We got just one hour
When we meet in the shower
You'll feel my love power

Chorus:
Don't drop the soap for anyone else but me x3

You be the momma, I'll be the pop
You be the bottom, I'll be the top

Chorus:
Don't drop the soap for anyone else but me x2

You say you're a fighter
But you won't make a sound
You'll be my pillow biter
When the sun goes down

Chorus:
Don't drop the soap for anyone else but me x3

Chorus:
Don't drop the soap for anyone else but me repeat and fade

credits

Performed by: Stanard Ridgway and Stewart Copeland with Judd Miller and Michael Thompson
Music by: Stewart Copeland
Words by: John Waters
Published by: © Copyright 1998 Palmyra Music (administered by BMI)
Produced by: Stewart Copeland and Jeff Seitz

free of it all

Commisioned for the 1999 film Simpatico.

You were captain of the ship
It was headed for rocks
But you were first in the lifeboat somehow
Now you're watching from shore
As the passengers wave from the bow

Free of it all
Now you'll just float away
Blowin' like leaves on the wind
The rules of the game can be changed
By the one who wins

Chorus:
Now you're free of it all
So free of it all
Now you're free of it all
So free of it all
And I know that you'd say
That you'd always planned it this way

The cargo was lost
But you never give in
Your heart is still locked in a vault
You're free of it all
When it's somebody else's fault

To finish this spin
With the twist of a hand
To know that you've hidden a crime
One goes on ahead while another is left behind

Chorus:
And you're free of it all
So free of it all
Now you're free of it all
So free of it all
And you knew I would say
You'd always planned it this way

I always knew
You would walk out one day
And it never crossed my mind
To throw in just one more dime
And get this close to the line

Now that it's done
And my locks've been changed
And the keys are all back in the drawer
You're not a prisoner
I'm not a guard anymore

Chorus:
And you're free of it all
So free of it all
Now you're free of it all
So free of it all
And you're free of it all
So free of it all
Now you're free of it all
So free of it all
And I know you would say
That you'd always planned it this way

credits

Written by Stan Ridgway and Stewart CopelandPublished by: © Copyright 1999 Dis-Information Music and Copeland Music (administered by BMI)
Produced by: Stewart Copeland

performers

Stanard Ridgway: vocals, harmonica
Stewart Copeland: all other instruments

funzone

Only appears on Showbusiness Is My Life.

spoken:
You know, when we were all like, uh, about this high, knee-high to a jackelope,
We always figured that the fun thing to do was to go to a funzone.
Let's go––let's go to a funzone.

Tents up in the sky and all the animals are waiting for the big show for tonight
Fat man calls my name, and calls me over to the tent he's waiting in––come watch a fight
All around there and every weekend in his trailer in the back while the clowns hold all-night poker games
Even the fat man came

Chorus:
Let's go to the funzone
We'll have a whole lot of fun
It's all there at the funzone
It's over when the fun is all done

Ride the fastest ride, you get a ticket from the man there in the booth all painted black
Corn dog for a buck, you take three bites and then you jump––what? there's some ice cream down your back
Meet a girl at night, you're talkin' to her while you coax her to a trailer in the back
While Ronald kicks his dog around

Now there's some weird ice cream stuck on my shoe
This used to be a buck––well, now it's two
And there's the ferris wheel where you spin around
Someone didn't like it––they got sick on the ground

Chorus:
Let's go to the funzone
We'll have a whole lot of fun
It's all there at the funzone
But why does that clown have a gun
At the funzone
The funzone
At the funzone
We'll be there or we'll all be left at home

Meet a girl at night, you're talkin' to her while you coax her to a trailer in the back
While Ronald kicks his dog around

Now there's some weird ice cream stuck on my shoe
This used to be a buck––well, now it's two
And there's the ferris wheel where you spin around
Someone didn't like it––they got sick on the ground

Chorus:
Let's go to the funzone
We'll have a whole lot of fun
It's all there at the funzone
But it's over when the fun is all done
At the funzone
The funzone
At the funzone
The funzone
Let's go to the funzone
We'll have a whole lot of fun
It's all there at the funzone
But be sure to wash your hands when you get home

credits

Written by: Wall Of Voodoo
Published by: © Copyright Wall Of Voodoo (copyright notice and publisher unknown)

performers

Chas Gray: synthesizer
Bruce Moreland: bass
Marc Moreland: guitar
Joe Nanini: percussion
Stanard Ridgway: vocals

only a hobo

This has yet to be recorded, but it was played as an encore during Stan's 1997 tour.

I spied an old hobo, in the doorway he lay
His face was all grounded in the cold sidewalk floor
An' I guess he'd been there for the whole night or more

Chorus:
(He was) Only a hobo, but one more is gone
Leaving nobody to sing his sad song
Leaving nobody to carry him home
He was only a hobo, but one more is gone

A blanket of newspaper covered his head
As the step was his pillow, the street was his bed
One look at his face showed the hard road he'd come
An' a fistful of coins showed the money he'd bummed

Chorus repeat

Does it take much of a man to see his whole life go down
To look up in the world from a whole in the ground
To wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame
To lie in the gutter and die with no name

Chorus repeat

credits

Written by: Bob Dylan
Originally Published by: © Copyright 1963, 1968 Warner Brothers Incorporated
Published by: © Copyright 1991 Special Rider Music

the man in the long black coat

This has yet to be recorded, but Stan played it live on a radio show called Morning Becomes Eclectic.

Crickets are chirpin'
The water is high
There's a soft cotton dress
On the line hangin' dry
The windows wide open
African trees
Bent over backward
In a hurricane breeze
Not a word of goodbye
Not even a note
She's gone with the man
In the long black coat

Somebody seen him
Hangin' around
At the old dancehall
On the outskirts of town
He looked into her eyes
When she stopped him to ask
If he wanted to dance
He had a face like a mask
Somebody said
From the Bible he quoth
There was dust on the man
In the long black coat

Preacher was talkin'
There's a sermon he gave
He said, "Every man's conscience
Is vile & depraved.
You cannot depend on it
To be your guide
When it's you
Who must keep it satisfied."
It ain't easy to swallow
It sticks in the throat
She gave her heart to the man
In the long black coat

"There are no mistakes in life,"
Some people say
It's true sometimes
You can see it that way
People don't live or die
People just float
She left with the man
In the long black coat

There's smoke on the water
It's been there since June
Tree trunks uprooted
In the high crescent moon
Hear the pulse & vibration
And the rumbling force
Somebody's out there
Beating on a dead horse
She never said nothing
There was nothing she wrote
She's gone with the man
In the long black coat

credits

Written by: Bob Dylan
Published by: © Copyright 1989 Special Rider Music

two guys with a lot on their minds

Feet are runnin' round
And someone's screamin'
"Somebody better turn on the lights!"
Meanwhile, there's four feet
Makin' tracks
To a car startin' up in the middle of the night
"Wipe the window, Charlie!
Fill up the tank fast!
We got lots of places to see
Don't bother with the tires
I checked 'em all this morning
The both of us are travellin' free
Now, Charlie, I think I'm seein'
Little things move
Right out of the corner of my eye
And I hear my name bein' whispered
From the dashboard
I could swear by that fly...
But just look at those mountains
And big pine trees
I wonder if they'll find us up there?
Hey I don't know now
You decide
Wait a minute, I thought I saw some nurse's face in your hair!"

Chorus:
We're just two guys
Two guys with a lot on our minds
Yeah, we're just two guys
Two guys with a lot on our minds

"Hey, I've been readin' this map
I think we're goin' the wrong way
It's hard lookin' for somethin' to find
Hey, let's play license plates!
I see South Dakota
Oh well, take a nap––we both have a lot on our minds.

"How long was I sleepin'?
Gee, Charlie, your head's all shiny
How much of my hair stuff did you use?
I wonder what they'll do
When they find out we're gone
We'll probably get the treatment that they put off for so long
Don't worry, we'll pitch a tent in the woods
And cook us a meal on a Coleman stove1
Hey, look over there! There's a squirrel with a nut
He'll probably eat it later after he gets back home

Chorus repeat

"Crack the window, Charlie, I can't breathe
There's really too much smoke in here.
We'd better stop for gas soon, we're almost empty
There's a cop behind us, quick––better hide the beer."

stan says

This was a song written during the "Mosquitos" album that featured Bert and Charlie from "Can't Complain". This song came first I think. It opens as they both make a break in the middle of the night from an asylum, and head out in a stolen car together towards the mountains. One of them sleeps while the other starts to hallucinate and see things. There was a big nurse back at the rubber room that gave them trouble. I figgered I really didn't need two songs about these guys, but I still have a fondness for this song and these two boobs. A kind of schizoid song really... this could be just two guys, or maybe just one, talking to himself. The Great Escape meets One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest––maybe. And the "hide the beer" line––gee...I forgot about that one there at the end. Somehow this song is a cousin to "Wake Up Sally"... funny how things get used even years later.

credits

Copyright 1988 by Stan Ridgway
Written and produced by: Stanard Ridgway

performers

Stanard Ridgway: all vocals and instruments

footnotes

  1. Coleman is a famous American manufacturer of camping equipment. Most Coleman stoves are small (and fold up even smaller), made entirely of metal, and burn canned propane.


Lyrics to Miscellaneous / Larry Hastings / larry@hastings.org