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Fish: Acoustic session (Live At The Funny Farm)

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Artist: Fish
Title: Acoustic session (Live At The Funny Farm)
Released: 1994.09.17
Label: Dick Bros. Records
Time: 44:02
Producer(s): Derek W. Dick
Appears with: Marillion
Category: Pop/Rock
Rating: *********. (9/10)
Media type: CD
Purchase date:  1994
Price in €: 15,99
Web address: www.fishheadsclub.com











 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Lucky (Dick/Boult/Simmonds) - 4:27
[2] Internal Exile (Dick/Boult/Simmonds) - 4:33
[3] Kayleigh (Dick/Rothery/Kelly/Mosley/Trewavas) - 4:16
[4] Fortunes Of War (Dick/Cassidy/Boult) - 6:11
[5] Dear Friend (Dick/Boult/Simmonds) - 3:46
[6] Sugar Mice (Dick/Rothery/Kelly/Mosley/Trewavas) - 5:47
[7] Somebody Special (Dick/Boult/Paton) - 4:53
[8] Jumpsuit City (Dick/Boult/Cassidy) - 4:48
[9] Lady Let It Lie (Dick/Paton/Cassidy) - 5:24
 

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


FISH (aka. Derek William Dick) - Laed Vocals

ROBIN BOULT - Guitars, Backing Vocals
FRANK USHER - Guitars
DAVID PATON - Bass, Backing Vocals
DAVE STEWART - Percussion

ARNOLD AT ARNIES SHACK - Engineer & Mixing
ROBIN AYLING - Label Manager
FIN COSTELLO - Photography
 

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


Recorded Live At The Funny Farm 1994



Acoustic Session is an assortment of Fish and Marillion songs, recorded live in the studio. This CD was the thing that inspired the collection of live acoustic tracks on the four "Fortunes of War" CD singles. Most, but not all, of those songs appear on Acoustic Session. "Somebody Special" and "Jumpsuit City" are the highlights and rival the studio versions heard on Suits. Fish fans will want to add this CD to their collection, but newbies should check out the originals first.

© 1997 Steve Marshall

  

 L y r i c s


LUCKY

He met the world as a Dalkeith boy
Raised from a shaft at Monktonhall
In a well-oiled cage
That locked away his dreams
An '85 veteran face from the gallery
A ghost from the civil war in the family
He stood his ground on the picket line
'Til all that he was left with
Were his father's cough
And his mother's eyes
That would hold a tear
For the very first time
When the government they took his job away.
Now fist in hand he'll stand in line
Declare his name and mark his time
To some the only proof that they're alive.

He could have been you
He could have been me
He could have been anybody
But he was born lucky

He made his first down payment
On a sharp Italian suit
He sewed razor blades into the lapels.
See him sweating on the dance floor
Coal dust oozing out of every pore
A hard man with a hard life
And that's a story that he'll tell you
Down at Easter Road till his throat is raw
On a Saturday, he knows the score
Till the whistle blows and
The tempers with their colours fade away.

He could have been you
He could have been me
He could have been anybody
But he was born lucky

On the helipads at Aberdeen
Bound for platforms drilling oil-rich seas
Where the trawlers are getting fewer every year
By the furnaces at Ravenscraig
By the padlocks holding John Brown's gates
In the desert, in the fields of South Armagh
Where the poppies grow
Behind the Hampden roar
Behind the drums in Genoa
On the deck that rides a South Atlantic swell
Born to fight out of the tightest corner
You can bet on him with the odds against you
They'll not put him down
No matter how they try

He could have been you
He could have been me
He could have been anybody
But he was born lucky 


INTERNAL EXILE

I saw a blue umbrella in Princes Street Gardens
Heading out west for the Lothian Road
An Evening News stuffed deep in his pocket
Wrapped up in his problems to keep away the cold
Grierson's spirit haunts the dockyards
Where the only men working are on
Documentary crews
Shooting film as the lines get longer
As the seams run out, as the oil runs dry

Hey there laddie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?
Hey there lassie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?

Starlings wheeling round Georgian spires
And the fires of Grangemouth burn the skies
A lion sleeps in a tenement close
In a country that's tired and deaf to his roar

Hey there laddie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?
Hey there lassie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?

They bury a wasteland deep in the wilderness
Poison the soil and reap the harvest
Of blind indifference, greed and apathy
Sowed way back in our history
The fish are few the harbours empty
The keels now rot on our oil-slicked shores
The sheep are gone, the farms deserted
We're out of sight and we're out of mind

Hey there laddie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?
Hey there lassie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?

Like our fathers before us
We've eyes for America
Dream of a new life on foreign shores
But wherever we go, we'll always know
That the land we stand on is never our own

Hey there laddie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go?
Hey there lassie, Internal Exile
When will you realise we've got to let go? 


KAYLEIGH

Do you remember, chalk hearts melting on a playground wall?
Do you remember, dawn escapes from moonwashed college halls?
Do you remember, cherry blossom in the market square?
Do you remember, I thought it was confetti in our hair?
By the way didn't I break your heart?
Please excuse me, I never meant to break your heart
So sorry I never meant to break your heart
But you broke mine

Kayleigh is it too late to say I'm sorry?
And Kayleigh could we get it together again?
I can't go on pretending that it came to a natural end
Kayleigh I never thought I'd miss you
And Kayleigh I hoped that we'd always stay friends
We said our love would last forever
So how did it come to this bitter end?

Do you remember, barefoot on the lawn with shooting stars?
Do you remember, loving on the floor in Belsize Park?
Do you remember, dancing in stilletos in the snow?
Do you remember, you never understood I had to go?
By the way, didn't I break your heart?
Please excuse me I never meant to break your heart
So sorry, I never meant to break your heart
But you broke mine

Kayleigh, I just want to say I'm sorry
But Kayleigh I'm too scared to pick up the phone
To find you've found another lover to patch up our broken home
Kayleigh, I'm still trying to write that love song
Kayleigh it's more important to me now you're gone
Maybe it'll prove that we were right
Or it will prove that I was wrong


FORTUNES OF WAR

Rosebuds scattered across the lawn like the squares at Waterloo
With bayonets of thorns repelling small children in search of lost tennis balls
Imaginary cannonballs that were fired at the legs of galloping cavalry
Resting their dreams in the shade of the apple trees
Toy soldiers drunk on warm lemonade

And the children dream of glory and fortunes of war
Safe in bed with stories of fortunes of war, fortunes of war

As the sun sets low on these playing fields
An army returns bearing swords and shields -
Dustbin lids and raspberry canes.
They'll live to fight another day
For warrior's medals - milk bottle tops
Battle flags fashioned from mother's old table cloths
Bright colours run in the summer rain

Sometimes when they fall they will pretend
That their hankie is a bandage to stop the bleeding
And imagine city streets and desert storms and foreign fields
There's bullets flying, these are the fortunes of war

I heard a wheelchair whisper across a stale, stagnant gymnasium
Trailing an ivy league jacket like a matador
Through the jitterbug steps of the night before,
I followed him down to the church parade.
Where he makes his peace every armistice day,
I watched him fade away, melt in the autumn rain.

For sometimes when they fall they can't pretend
That the hankie is a bandage they can't stop the bleeding
They're out in city streets and desert storms or foreign fields
With bullets flying, these are the fortunes of war.
While their children dream of glory and fortunes of war,
Safe in bed with stories and fortunes of war,
Of uniforms and glory, fortunes of war, fortunes of war 


DEAR FRIEND

Dear friend, it's been a long, long while
I've been meaning to write you
But it was never my style
But what is these days now I'm a family man

Do you blow sincere kisses to mistresses
Secrets in afternoons
Do you wear your disguises, feign the surprises
At the questions she asks when she dares to accuse?
Does your past lie under a dustsheet
In the corner of a musty garage?
That's where I keep mine, now I'm a family man

Are your horses still running when the bookies shop close?
Is the band still together, did you ever get on the road?
We chased the same women, we drank the same beer
We came as a pair when we ran around here
How are you these days, now you're a family man?

Buy a drink for the boy in my place
At the end of the bar
Give my regards to Nina, slam a tequila
I'll write you at Christmas or I'll send you a card
And if you pass by you're welcome to drop in
And see me 'cause it's unlikely
I'll be round your way, 'cos I'm happy to be
Where I am, living life as a family man

Do you still have your leathers
Or did you give them away?
Do you still dream of Joni and sidewalk cafes?
Is your Norton still running, is the old man still alive?
Do you still get to Dalkeith, is your rent still as high?
But I suppose you've a mortgage, now you're a family man

Dear friend, it's been a long, long while
I've been meaning to write you,
But it was never my style.
But what is these days, now I'm a family man 


SUGAR MICE

I was flicking through the channels on the TV
On a Sunday in Milwaukee in the rain
Trying to piece together conversations,
Trying to find out where to lay the blame

But when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one here that's left to blame,
Blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain

I heard Sinatra calling me down through the floorboards
Where you pay a quarter for a partnership in rhyme
To the jukebox crying in the corner
While the waitress is counting out the time

For when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one really left to blame,
Blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain

I know what I feel, know what I want I know what I am
Daddy took a raincheck
Cos I know what I want, know what I feel I know what I need
Daddy took a raincheck, your daddy took a raincheck
Ain't no one in here that's left to blame but me
Blame it on me, blame it on me

Well the toughest thing that I ever did was talk to the kids on the phone
When I heard them asking questions I knew
That you were all alone, Can't you understand that the
Government left me out of work, I just couldn't stand the
Looks on the faces saying what a jerk

So if you want my address it's number one
At the end of the bar
Where I sit with the broken angels clutching at straws and
Nursing the scars, blame it on me, blame it on me
Sugar mice in the rain, your daddy took a raincheck
Your daddy took a raincheck 


SOMEBODY SPECIAL

She's got a photograph of David Bowie
In a Victorian hand-made frame
Signed backstage by a roadie in his name
She's got Hemingway in her bedside table
And a pistol under a pillow beside her head
The bullets round her neck
She wants to wear suits

A cocktail waitress smokes Gauloises Blondes
She's been taking tips from tables far too long
She drinks frozen Stolichnaya
She likes powders from Peru
She don't like no one to tell her what to do

She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to wear suits

She's got a nasty reputation as a cruel dude
She likes Japanese movies, she likes Chinese food
She's got handmade patent leather shoes riding on her feet
She knows the lifestyle that she wants and she's willing to compete

She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to wear suits

She put her mind to the classroom but outside
She learned more from giving head
She gave her innocence to someone that she once considered a close friend
She gave her hand to the quarterback on loan to the local football team
He gave his world as security, his heart as deposit on the dream
But, she wants to wear suits

She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to wear suits

She's got a wedding ring
That's Cartier as far as you can tell
She threw it down the local wishing well
She'd lost it in the kitchen sink
Or in a desert motel room
The insurance claim just couldn't come too soon

She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She wants to be somebody, be somebody, be somebody,
Somebody special
She's somebody special
Do you want to be somebody special?
Could you be somebody special?
Somebody special? 


JUMPSUIT CITY

All the way from Bucharest your skin crawled on the way to Hollywood
Through a hole in the wall
You saw the free world trading in bones

There's a guardian angel at the window
Staring at the corner
She's nowhere to go
She's in the free world trading her bones

But if your mother don't like it she don't need to know
As long as your sending the money home
What happened to the body of the child she bore?
Answers on a postcard from Jumpsuit City

Sprayed by a moonbeam through the Linden leaves
Cast in a shadow in anonymity
He found the free world and sucked on their bones
Performing for animals he's dressed to thrill
High on a pedestal see the surgeon's skill
He lets the free world feast on his bones

But if your mother don't like it she don't need to know
As long as your sending the money home
What happened to the body of the child she bore?
Answers on a postcard from Jumpsuit City

Behind the curtain there's a sanctuary
For the businessman and the refugee
This is the free world and they trade with their bones
A dead flower from a buttonhole
Lies in the gutter with a million souls
It's the free world, and they're only trading in bones

But if your mother don't like it she don't need to know
As long as your sending the money home
What happened to the body of the child she bore?
Answers on a postcard from Jumpsuit City 


LADY LET IT LIE

You should have listened to what your mother said
You should have listened to what your father told you to do
But you always did just what you always wanted to do
Now you end up here singing in a gilded cage
And for half your life you were wishing you were half your age
Lady let it lie

It's hard putting down family roots when you're living in
A mobile home, but there's always blood even in a rolling stone
And you squeezed me hard for the white collar dream
But you woke up to a tie dye lifestyle and its choking me
Lady let it lie

All the boys want to be all the girls want to be all the boys
I don't want to be me no more
All the boys want to be all the girls in this turnaround world
I don't want to be me no more

They once said I was a rising star declaring me a bright contender
When it all worked out I was just a pretender
I could never disagree if you said you were dissatisfied
But why you got to take it out on a guy that tried

All the boys want to be all the girls want to be all the boys
I don't want to be me no more
All the boys want to be all the girls in this turnaround world
I don't want to be me no more

But surely there's something left, something worth fighting for
Something out of all this mess that's worth building on
Maybe we can start again, maybe give it one more try
Or do we just walk away, and maybe fade and die

All the boys want to be all the girls want to be all the boys
I don't want to be me no more
All the boys want to be all the girls in this turnaround world
I don't want to be me no more
I don't want to be me no more
Me no more
All the boys want to be all the girls want to be all the boys
I don't want to be me no more
All the boys want to be all the girls in this turnaround world
I don't want to be me no more
I don't want to be me no more
Me no more

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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