Out All Night

Here are all the Lyrics and some of the chords for our ‘Out All Night’ album and the ‘Harry Met Charlie’ EP.

 

All songs are composed by Nick Turner and Findlay Napier and published by Watercolour Music unless otherwise stated.

 

George

 

Standard Tuning- Capo 3- D shapes

 

He would fight with his fists if he could

Chop them down like bits of wood

They were facing a dancer, learning the music

It was a free education, I’m sure they could use it

 

Chorus: Friday and Saturday night for George is all about fighting

Friday and Saturday night for George is all about fighting

 

Frightening the schoolies in their best weekend get up

He’d steal the birds from the boy’s who were too pissed to…

Get it up, get it on

He’d take them down the woods if the rain was on

 

Chorus

 

He’d do his usual and wind up the police

They’d beat him up, their weekly release

Fry up delivered to his bedside in the cell

Later they’d run him home, understanding that he’d fell

 

Chorus

 

Sunday night, town’s full of ghosts

Sleeping off hangovers and roasts

A quick one, a chaser, the police are in bed

Looks like shanks pony tonight, time to head

 

Chorus

 

They found him in a clearing he was wandering and dazed

He’d seen her all about him he was babbling and crazed

She’s opened her eyes and he’d seen right in

The music had surrounded him, he’d felt it from within

He had blisters on his feet and his arms were in pain

They’d danced the length of Strathspey in the rain

 

Now Friday and Saturday night for George is all about dancing

Now Friday and Saturday night for George is all about dancing

 

He hits the floor of a Saturday night

The girls cluster round him their skirts are so tight

And he walks them home through the woods I suppose

You can see them in the early Sunday morning looking for their clothes

 

Chorus: 

 

He’s such a Sweetie

 

Drop D- Capo 2- D shapes

 

He moved in here a week ago

Typecast guy her mother would love her to know

He’s such a sweetie I hope he’ll go

She likes his cooking better than mine

He always buys expensive bottles of wine

He’s such a sweetie I hope he’ll go

 

Oh well done you’ve cleaned the kitchen I can see through that

Tidied up the garden, bought a new front door mat

You’re trying to steal her away I’ll put a stop to that

 

The tenner that went missing from her purse

I blamed it on him, made him look worse

Then he takes her out to dinner, gives her a rose

She thinks I’m always moody, is it cos I’m jealous

He’s such a sweetie I hope he’ll go

 

In my front room I’m no longer the greatest singer

She says his songs make her weep and quiver

Well I used his lyrics to light the fire

And shrunk all his clothes in the tumble drier

He’s such a sweetie I hope he’ll go

 

I hope that he gets famous And tops himself

She’ll grieve for the papers And pick me back of the shelf

He’s such a sweetie I hope he does

 

Their shagging kept me up all last night

The neighbours called the police they thought there’d been a fight

He’s even good in be I hope he’ll go

Yesterday they noticed I looked a little down

Maybe I should be finding a place of my own

He’s such a sweetie I hope he’ll go

He’s such a sweetie one of us will have to go

 

Mo’s All Night Cafe

 

Standard Tuning- D

 

It’s cold in the cafe at 1 am

Graveyard still now the fridge’s packed in

It’s usually round now her regulars appear

So she turns up the heating and lines up the beers

Her first in is late dressed in old working clothes

Shirt hanging out boots worn at the toes

This frost will be the death of me I walked down the road

And I can’t grip this glass. My hands are so cold.

 

Mo likes the way that he walks like he’s been in the saddle

Mo likes the way that he talks of the romance of travel

 

Another arrival clutching a book

That changed his life this week after only one look

Mo you should read this, he rolls fags from a pouch

It’s all about someone who doesn’t get out much

 

Mo likes the way his eyes follow when she turns her back

Mo likes the way that he doesn’t do fiction only fact

 

 

Just like a mouse eyes brimming with tears

Heady mix of alcohol childhood and fears

Her baggage wouldn’t fit on a flat bed truck

Hypochondriac, paranoid down on her luck

 

Mo likes the way that she nurses her drink in her hand

Mo likes the way she describes her ultimate man

 

Daylight appears still a distance away

It’s time we were off, “It’s alright you can stay”

They all leave together. They don’t leave a tip

 

Mo likes the way that they all fill the café with life

Mo likes the way that they visit her every night

Mo likes they way that they wait with her till they see light 

Mo likes the way that they vanish like ghosts in the night! 

Mo likes the way that they vanish

 

 

The Battle of Corrymuckloch

 

Melody by Findlay Napier, Lyrics Trad. Arr Napier, Frame, Millar, Jennings

 

Standard Tuning- Capo 5- G shapes

 

December on the twenty first a party o oor Scottish Greys

Gaed up amang oor mountaineers some whisky from them for to seize

Wi sword and pistol by their side they thocht to mak a bold attack

And a they wanted was to seize poor Donald wi his Smuggled drap

 

The Gauger and his Grays cam on and they poor Donald did suroon

He says your whisky I maun seize by virtue of the British Crown

Hoot Toot quo Donlad no sae fast ye ken the whisky is her nain

She fearna you nor your grey horse nor yet yer muckle bearded men

 

Dirrim a doo a doo a do

Dirrima Doo a daddy O

And a they wanted there to find

Was Donald and his smuggled Drap

 

Then Donald and his men drew up and Donald he did gie command

An a’ the arms poor Donald had was just a stick in ilka hand

When Donald an’ his boys drew up a guid stane wall was at their back

Sae when their sticks tae splinters went wi stanes they made their bold attack

 

An ere the action it was o’er there fell a horseman on the plain

Quo Snady unto Donald syne- Ye’ve killed ane o the bearded men

But up he gat an left his horse an’ straight tae Amurlee he flew

And left the rest tae dae their best as they were left at Waterloo

 

But Donald an his men stuck fast an’ garr’d the beardies quit the field

The Gauger he wis thumped weel afore his pride wad let him yield

Then Donalds men they a’ cried oot ye filthy nasty gauger loon

If ye cam back ye’ll ne’er win hame, to see your Auchterarder toon

 

(The verse we didn’t use)

An when the battle it was o’er and not a horseman to be seen

Quo Donald syne unto his men Ye’ll sit ye a’ doon on the green

For noo ma lads we’ll hae a took shust o the gear sic likes we hae

Quo Donald but I’m sure they got a filthy hurry doon the brae

 

Out All Night

 

Standard Tuning

 

Old men in doorways huddled in coats

Pillar for pillow bottle and smoke

Flagstones reflecting restaurant lights

Behind glass friends discuss TV stars plight

 

CHORUS:

I’ve been out all night looking for you

Crossed town at midnight please give me a clue

I’ve been out all night

 

Clubs are turned out queues in the street

Girls holding high heels massage their feet

Boyfriend fights boyfriend fights passer-by

Burst nose at Central an eye for an eye.

 

CHORUS:

 

MIDDLE 8

West end to Hope Street don’t drop the pace

There’s rumours and whispers don’t loose the place

River to high street walked it again

And I’ve been out all night…

 

The hookers are pacing up on Blythswood St

Most of them look like they’ve had more sex than sleep

Hard up and hungry don’t look in their eyes

War paint and stockings shames old disguise

 

CHORUS:

I’ve been out all night looking for you 

Crossed town at midnight please give me a clue 

I’ve been out all night and I’ve yet to meet you 

I’ve been out all night and I’ve never met you

 

Point of No Return

 

Standard Tuning

 

She didn’t love him exactly

So she waited sensibly

For a man a serious view on life

Who had money and needed a wife

But he never came along

So she played straight man to a clown

 

Chorus:

Way Past Ever Present

No Future Well Past

The point of no return

Way Past Ever Present

No Future Well Past

The point of no return

 

In the back row of a photograph

Cross eyed and capering for a laugh

He left the school before it began

Never showed up for final exams

Unemployable reckless mess

 

Chorus:

Self proclaimed university of life success

 

Middle 8:

Screwed right tight

She set his very soul alight

Now only embers remain

She’s chokes at the mention of his name

 

The passengers ignore her tears politely

They just see another casualty

Of over work and over play

Read the paper get on with the day

They dare not read between the lines

Too afraid of what they might find

 

Chorus:

 

 

 

A Wee Drappie O’t

 

Trad. Arr Napier, Frame, Millar, Jennings

 

Drop D- Capo 2 – D Shapes

 

This life is a journey we a’ hae tae gang

An’ care is the burden we cairry alang

Though heavy be oor burden an’ poverty oor lot

We’ll be happy a’thegither o’er a wee drappie o’t

O’er a wee drappie o’t o’er a wee drappie o’t

We’ll be happy a’thegither o’er a wee drappie o’t

 

The trees are a’ stript o’ their mantles sae green

The leaves o’ the forest nae langer are seen

For winter is here wi’ it’s cauld icy coat

And we’ve a’ met thegither o’er a wee drappie o’t

O’er a wee drappie o’t o’er a wee drappie o’t

And we’ve a met thegither o’er a wee drappie o’t

 

Job in his lamentations said man wis made tae mourn

And there’s nae such thing as pleasure frae the cradle tae the urn

But in his meditations he surely had forgot

The pleasure man enjoys o’er a wee drappie o’t

O’er a wee drappie o’t o’er a wee drappie o’t

The pleasure man enjoys o’er a wee drappie o’t

 

The Note

 

V1 In between the shopping lists and bills I found her note

Between menus, junk mail on an unused card for her to vote

A loaf, the papers, milk and eggs if you find this I am dead

There’s nothing here for me to love I’m hanging by a thread

 

CH1 On with my jacket, head on down the street

I could do without the hassle and god forbid I’ll meet

Her and all the others, there have been one or two

That tried to flag me down as I was passing through

 

Last night her fish and chip shop hands were gently pressed in yours

And though you couldn’t find it there was something there for sure

Sheltered in a bus stop crowds move before your feet

Her head falls to your shoulder you move closer share the heat

 

CH2 On with my jacket, head on down the street

I could do without the hassle and god forbid I’ll meet

Her and all the others, there have been one or two

That tried to flag me down as I was passing through

 

M8: Left their lives shattered I was not aware

Left their hearts in tatters

 

Cleanliness she said is next to early Sunday mornings

As she stepped amid the heaps of clothes and let midday through the curtains

I see you found my note she calls, then showers with the door open

You hear snippets from the musicals in a voice that’s low and broken

 

CH3 Oh dear me what’s a poor boy to do

She’s not like all the others, and I’m not just passing through

On with my jacket, head down on the street

She saw right through me I’m just like all the other guys she meets

Her and all the others there have been one or two

I tried to flag them down but they were passing through

 

Lambkin

 

Trad. Arr Napier, Frame, Millar, Jennings

 

Standard Tuning

 

1 Lambkin was as guid a mason as ever hewed a stane

He built lord Wearie’s castle and payment got nane

 

2 The lord said tae the lady e’er he gaed abroad

Beware o’ Lambkin that lives in yonder wood

 

3 But the nurseie was as faus a limmer as e’er hung on a tree

She laid a plot wi Lambkin when the lord was ower the sea

 

4 She laid a plot wi lambkin when the servants were awa

Let him in let a little wee windae in and brought him tae the ha

 

5 Whaur’s the lady o this hoose that ca’s me Lambkin

She’s in her bower sowin but we’s soon can bring her doon

 

6 Lambkin’s taen a lang knife that hung doon by his gare

An he has gien yon bonnie bairn a deep wound and a sair

 

7 Lambkin he rocked and the faus nurseie sang

And frae ilkea bore o the cradle the red blood oot it ran

 

8 And oot spak the lady at the tap o the stair

What ails my bairn nursie that he’s greetin sae sair

 

9 Still the bairn nursie still him wi the bell

He’ll no be still lady till ye cam doon yersel

 

10 Still the bairn nursie still him wi the pap

He’ll no be still nursie for this nor for that

 

11 The first step she steppet she steppet on a stane

The neist steppen she steppet she met wi Lambkin

 

12 O mercy mercy lambkin hae mercy upon me

Ye hae ta’en ain son let me be

 

13 O sall I kill her nursie or sall I let her be

Aye kill her kill her Lambkin for she ne’er was guid tae me

 

14 Scour the basin nursie scour it fair and clean

For the lady’s hearts blood for she comes o noble kin

 

15 Twa three months had past and gane Lord weary he cam hame

Aye and dowie was his heart when first he cam in

 

16 Whas blood is this he says that lies in my chaulmer

It is yer lady’s hearts blood it’s as clear as the lammer

 

17 Whas blood is this he says that lies in ma ha

It is yer bairns hearts blood it’s clearest of a’

 

18 Bonnie bonnie sang the lintie oot o a thorny tree

But sair grat Lambkin when he was condemed to dee

 

19 And bonny bonny sang the mavis oot o her thorny break

But sair grat the nursie when burnin at the stake

 

A Son of the Circus

 

Drop D – D shapes

 

V1 Sparks fly from The Whip, amidst screams of anticipation.

The music from the carousel competes with the generators.

The Fairground’s happed in mist, and it’s a tired and faded creation

And from the boxing booth a cheer, a local hero in the making?

 

CH So it’s seconds out, spit in the pail,

Rise to your feet, start swinging ‘till the bell.

If the pipes were playing it would be “The Ladies from Hell”

You’re a son of the circus, my son.

You don’t throw in the towel.

 

V2 If your life is spent on the ropes, across a canvas broad and bloody

Even a child knows winning and hope lasts longer than love or money

Baiting the bear like bees around the ring,

It’s been a long time since he felt their sting.

Too proud and too old to learn to stay down,

What’s a few more fights in a few more towns?

 

CH …You don’t know how to fail

 

M8 My fathers hand in mind, his face in cool appraisal.

Where does the rage come from?, where does it go?

 

V3 Sparks fly from The Whip, amidst screams of anticipation.

The music from the carousel competes with the generators.

The Fairground’s happed in mist, and it’s a tired and faded creation

And from the boxing booth a cheer, another hero takes a beating.

 

CH So it’s seconds out, spit in the pail,

Rise to your feet, start swinging ‘till the bell.

If the pipes were playing it would be “The Ladies from Hell”

You’re a son of the circus, my son.

So it’s seconds out, spit in the pail,

Rise to your feet, start swinging ‘till the bell.

If the pipes were playing it would be “The Ladies from Hell”

You don’t throw in the towel.

You don’t know how to fail

You’re a son of the circus, my son.