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Lyr Req: Kissing English Arses Talking Blues

DigiTrad:
A COUNTRY SONG
BLOODY ROTTEN AUDIENCE
BOGLED
DO YOU KNOW ANY BOB DYLAN?
FRONT ROW COWBOY
GLASGOW LULLABY
IF WISHES WERE FISHES
LEAVING NANCY
NO MAN'S LAND
NO MAN'S LAND (3)
NO USE FOR HIM
NOBODY'S MOGGY NOW
NOBODY'S MOGGY'S LAND (No Moggy's Land)
NOW I'M EASY
SAFE IN THE HARBOUR
SILLY SLANG SONG
THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA
THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA (2)
THE SONG OF THE WHALE
WHEN THE WIND BLOWS
WILLIE MCBRIDE'S REPLY


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Mikey joe 07 Feb 01 - 11:26 AM
Amergin 07 Feb 01 - 12:15 PM
GUEST,Mj 07 Feb 01 - 01:13 PM
Sarah2 07 Feb 01 - 01:44 PM
bill\sables 07 Feb 01 - 01:59 PM
late 'n short 2 08 Feb 01 - 10:34 AM
bill\sables 08 Feb 01 - 12:47 PM
Lox 08 Feb 01 - 01:08 PM
late 'n short 2 08 Feb 01 - 02:07 PM
Dug 08 Feb 01 - 05:38 PM
Jim Dixon 12 Dec 17 - 05:03 PM
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Subject: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: Mikey joe
Date: 07 Feb 01 - 11:26 AM

I'm looking for the title of an Eric Bogle song. The song is about walking into a bar in the outback and coming across a Scot who is drunk and keeps reminiscing of home etc. etc. All help appreciated

Mj


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: Amergin
Date: 07 Feb 01 - 12:15 PM

Do you have anymore information?


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: GUEST,Mj
Date: 07 Feb 01 - 01:13 PM


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: Sarah2
Date: 07 Feb 01 - 01:44 PM

I have a friend with a mail-order music company here in town. She carries all Bogle's stuff -- I've e-mailed her, so, if no one comes through first, I should get an answer sometime today. If she doesn't know, she can contact Bogle.

Sarah


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: bill\sables
Date: 07 Feb 01 - 01:59 PM

The song you are looking for is called "Kissing English Arses" . It is on the CD "Emigrant and Exile"
Cheers Bill


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: late 'n short 2
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 10:34 AM

I know this is "off thread" but I'm trying to find copies of Eric's Songbooks...the actual books, not the CD's with that title...Can any of you help? Sarah, how about your friend? Thanks,

Dan


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: bill\sables
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 12:47 PM

You can find Eric's website here


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: Lox
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 01:08 PM

Have you got that address right? My computer doesn't recognize it.

lox


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: late 'n short 2
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 02:07 PM

Try this:

Eric Bogle

Dan


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Subject: RE: Looking for title of Eric bogle song
From: Dug
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 05:38 PM

There is a song called "You take the low road and I'll take the high..."


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Subject: Lyr Add: KISSING ENGLISH ARSES TALKING BLUES
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 12 Dec 17 - 05:03 PM

Here's my transcription from Spotify (but see the footnote). There are a few gaps. I would welcome corrections.


KISSING ENGLISH ARSES BLUES*
As recorded by Eric Bogle on "A Few Old Songs for Very New Times" (2010)

1. Now the outback of Australia is mainly desert-eatin' flies.
It's a land where the crows fly backwards to keep the dust oot o' their eyes,
Where lives are shaped and governed by a harsh nature's savage laws,
A place o' danger and hidden beauty, a bit like Pollokshaws.
That's if you can imagine Pollokshaws covered with kangaroo shit and wild animals roamin' the streets.

2. I'd been travelin' through this desert for ten hours or maybe more.
My throat was as dry as a Pommy's bath towel; I were stiff and tired and sore.
If Old Nick himself had suddenly appeared and said to me: "Hey, Jimmy!"
Your eternal soul for this glass o' beer I would 'a' said: "Hey, Nick! Gimme!"
Mind you I don't normally have social intercourse with religious people.

3. Thank God or Old Nick, I don't know which one, and didnae much care at the time,
Caused to spring up by the side of the road a holy miraculous sign.
It said: "Ten miles to go to the Outback Hotel, servin' hot food and cold beer."
Hopin' they got their adjectives the right way roond, I shifted into top gear.
Dry! My god, I could have sucked the sweat out of a Pommy's armpit.

4. Soon through the dust a building appeared, surrounded by short scrubby trees:
An oasis if ever I saw one, and I know my oasis-ease.
So I parked the car and took off for the bar like a rabbit bein' chased by a stoat.
Already I could feel that ice-cold beer orgasming its way down my throat.
[Gasping orgasmic sounds] Was it good for you too?

5. When I got to that veranda outside the doorway marked "saloon"
My ears were suddenly assaulted by a dreadful familiar soond.
It caused me to swear and made all the hair on the back o' my neck start to bristle,
And my thirst disappeared as quickly as a ... thistle.
And my heart was empty as a ... case, I heard this awful sound.
It went: [long slurred unintelligible speech].
Well at least this time I knew it wasn't me, because it bloody well usually is.

6. So I halted inside that veranda; full of indecision I stood.
I was caught on the horns of a dilemma, which wasnae doin' my piles too much good,
But I knew what waited inside for me; I'd seen this movie before.
There's no greater curse than a Scotsman's thirst, so in I went through the door.
When I say I went through the door, I'm no Arnie Schwarzenegger, you know; I actually opened it first.

7. Well I spotted him immediately; it wasnae all I had to do.
Maybe it was the tartan tammy that gave me the first wee clue.
He was about five feet five, give or take an inch, and every inch was plastered,
He'd a face as red as a well-scalped arse and a nose like a nuclear disaster.
My God he was ugly! Somebody'd hit him with an ugly stick. Mair than once!

8. Now the bar was noisy and crowded; in fact, it was packed from wall to wall:
Not surprising, seein' it was the only pub in thousands o' square miles o' bugger-all:
So I didn't think that he'd seen me, and I very much doubted that he'd hear,
When I leaned over to the barman, who said: "G'day, mate! Skin or a beer?"
I can pass myself off for a ... anytime I want to, you know. Mind you, who'd want to?

9. There's no antenna that's more finely tuned than that of a drunken Scot.
It can pick up the faintest roll of an R, the merest hint of a glottal stop.
So like a paralytic homin' pigeon, weavin' from side to side,
I watched him stagger through the crowd, and when he got to me he cried:

10. [Sing:] "Will you pray, Jimmy? Will you pray?
Are you from Milngavie or Mingulay?
I'm frae Glasga mysel'. Whit ye know? Hoo can you tell?
Will you pray, Jimmy? Will you pray?"

11. Well I told him I came from Peebles and a blank look crossed his blank face.
"Peebles? Where the hell's that?" he said; "Seems like a skin disease, not a place."
So I told him it was doon in the bottoms, and he told me this joke about sheep.
I sniggered: "Where's your welly boots, then?" and I thought to myself: "You'll keep."
Maybe I should have gone to new Zealand instead; I hear there's a nice class of animal across there—sheep as well.

12. Then he asked the inevitable question, "Ah, when were ye last hame?"
I didn't pretend to misunderstand him, or any other domicile claim.
"I was there last year for a month," I said, and heard the longin' in his voice.
And he said: "You know, I've never been back; I chose to leave and I've stood by my choice."
Ah, that wonderful stiff-necked Scottish plague; what a great national asset it is!

13. He said: [Sing:] "Where stands Scotland now?
Oh, stands it where it used to?
Oh, where stands Scotland now?
Oh, stands it where it could do?"

14. I said: "Nothing much has really changed, apart from a new motorway or two,
The tap in the pub's off a wee bit, and Glasgow's a cultural center noo.
Everyone talks like Billy Connolly; that's the influence of TV.
He's made the Glasgow accent trendy, which I never thought I'd live to see."
"Hello there, your majesty! How's it going there, hinney? How's your bum for dingleberries, now then?"

15. "And there's still talk of independence, but it seems mainly to consist
Of singin' 'Flooer o' Scotland' ad nauseam when you're pissed.
There's a little more milk an' honey to take the bad taste from the mouth,
From watchin all the oil and the money drain frae the north to the south."
You know, the more things change, the more they stay the same—auld Scottish proverb.

16. "We're a crowd o' useless bastards!" and his eyes filled with whiskey tears.
"We've been kissin' English arses for far too many years!
If Bruce or Wallace could see us noo, and the ...."
And I thought: "Aye, if they could smell your breath, you'd be diggin' ...."
My God! His breath must a been a hundred and fifty proof! I should 'a' breathed in a wee bit more.

17. "Well," I said, "I have to be goin'; I've got a long way still tae go."
And he said: "Ach! Ye're no leavin' so soon! Ah, Jimmy, surely no!
Noo share a drink before ye go; aye, ye'll have wi' me a dram."
And I thought to mysel: "Ah, what the hell;" and said: "OK, just the wan."
I wish I'd 'a' found that many tenners in my life; I'd still be skint.

18. Now what happened next was hazy, but I seem to recollect
Spending a lot o' time bein' horizontal, which leads me to suspect
That we painted that pub tartan as only exiled Scots can do,
And I vaguely recall a pair o' welly boots and a pissed-off kangaroo.
"Hey, Skippy! Hold still, ya bugger! Where's my welly boots then?"

19. We sang "Flooer o' Scotland" fifty times, and "Dear Old Glesga Toon,"
And occasionally a music-lovin' Australian would come up and knock us back doon.
And I can't remember how or when or where I left that bar,
Or how I managed to find, let alone get in and start my car.
But I do remember vividly as doon that track I went,
Fading in the outback air, that Scotsman's sad lament.
It went [long unintelligible speech].

20. [Sing:] Oh, where stands Scotland now?
Stands it where it used to?
Oh, where stands Scotland now?
Oh, stands it where it could do? [Repeat and fade]


* There are two recordings on YouTube, taken from different albums, with different song titles, but I think they are in fact the same recording:
Kissing English Arses Blues from "A Few Old Songs for Very New Times" by Eric Bogle (2010)
Kissing English Arses Talking Blues, from "The Emigrant & the Exile" by Eric Bogle & John Munro (1997)


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Mudcat time: 22 September 6:03 AM EDT

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