From early days of infancy, through trembling years of youth,
long murky middle-age and final hours long in the tooth,
he's the hundred names of terror - creature you love the least.
Picture his name before you and exorcise the beast.
He roved up and down through history - spectre with tales to tell.
In the darkness when the campfire's dead - to each his private hell.
If you look behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast,
you can witness now the everchanging nature of the beast.

Beastie!

If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at bay.
You can pop those pills and visit some psychiatrist who'll say:
There is nothing I can do for you, everywhere's a danger zone.
I'd love to help get rid of it, but I've got one of my own.

Beastie!

There's a beast upon my shoulder, (Beastie!)
and a fiend upon my back. (Beastie!)
Feel his burning breath a heaving, (Beastie!)
smoke oozing from his stack.

And he moves beneath the covers, (Beastie!)
or he lies below the bed. (Beastie!)
He's the beast upon your shoulder. (Beastie!)
He's the price upon your head.

He's the lonely fear of dying, and for some, of living too.
He's your private nightmare pricking.
He'd just love to turn the screw.
So stand as one defiant - yes, and let your voices swell.
Stare that beastie in the face and really give him hell.

Beastie!

There's a beast upon my shoulder, (Beastie!)
and a fiend upon my back. (Beastie!)
Feel his burning breath a heaving, (Beastie!)
smoke oozing from his stack. (Beastie!)

And he moves beneath the covers, (Beastie!)
or he lies below the bed. (Beastie!)
He's the beast upon your shoulder. (Beastie!)
He's the price upon your head.

Look out! Look out!

travellers travellers on the endless wastes in single orbits,
gliding cold-eyed march towards the dawn behind
hard-weather hoods a-hiding.
Meeting as the tall ships do, passing in the channel
afraid to chance a gentle touch,
afraid to make the clasp.
In high-rise city canyons dwells the discontent of ages.
On ring roads, nose to bumper crawl
commuters in their cages. Cryptic signals flash
across from pilots in the fast lane. Double-locked
and belted in - too late to make the clasp.

Let's break the journey now on some lonely road.
Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload.
Talk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear.
Refill the cup and drink it up. Say goodnight and
wish good luck.

Synthetic chiefs with frozen smiles holding unsteady courses.
Grip the reins of history, high on their battle horses.
And meeting as good statesmen do before the T.V.
eyes of millions, hand to hand exchange the lie -
pretend to make the clasp.

Fallen on hard times - but it feels good to know
that milk and honey's just around the bend.
Running on bad lines - we'd better run as we go,
Tear up, tear up the overdraft again.
Oh, dear Prime Minister - it's all such a mess.
Go right ahead and pull the rotten tooth.
Oh, Mr. President - you've been put to the test.
Come clean, for once, and hit us with the truth.

Looking for sunshine - oh but it's black and it's cold
Yet, you say that milk and honey's just round the bend.
Giving us a hard time, my friends
handing us the same line again.

Fallen on hard times - and there's nowhere to hide
Now they've re-possessed the Rolls Royce and the mink.

Turning on the peace sign - and it's back to the wood.
Soon there will be raised a holy stink.

Somebody wake me. I've been sleeping too long.
Oh, I don't have to take this lying down.
You can keep your promises. Shove 'em where they belong.
Don't ask me to the party - won't be around.

Shout if you will, but that just won't do.
I, for one, would rather follow softer options.
I'll take the easy line; another sip of wine,
and if I ignore the face you wore it's just a way of
mine to keep from flying colours.
Don't lay your bait while the whole world waits
around to see me shoot you down - It's all so second-rate.
When we can last for days on a loving night;
or for hours at least on a warm whisper given.
You always pick the best time to rise to the fight.
To break the hard bargain that we've driven.
Once again we're flying colours.

I thought we had it out the night before,
and settled old scores, but not the hard way.
Was it a glass too much? Or a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match - did we
want them to?
In a fancy restaurant we were all aglow
keeping cool by mutual permission.
How did the conversation get to where we came to blows?
We were set up in a red condition
and again we're flying colours.

Shout - but you see it still won't do.
With my colours on I can be just as bad as you.
Have I had a glass too much? Did I give a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match - did we
want them to?
We act our parts so well, like we wrote the play.
All so predictable and we know it.

We'll settle old scores now, and settle the hard way.
You may not even live to outgrow it!
Once again we're flying colours.

Would you join a slow marching band?
And take pleasure in your leaving
as the ferry sails and tears are dried
and cows come home at evening.
Could you get behind a slow marching band?
And join together in the passing
of all we shared through yesterdays
in sorrows neverlasting.

Take a hand and take a bow.
You played for me; that's all for now, oh, and never
mind the words just hum along and keep on going.
Walk on slowly - don't look behind you.
Don't say goodbye, love. I won't remind you.

Dream of me as the nights draw cold
still marking time through Winter.
You paid the piper and called the tune
and you marched the band away.

Take a hand and take a bow.
You played for me; that's all for now, oh, and never
mind the words just hum along and keep on going.
Walk on slowly - don't look behind you.
Don't say goodbye, love. I won't remind you.

I see a dark sail on the horizon set under a black
cloud that hides the sun.
Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Get up to the roundhouse on the cliff-top standing.
Take women and children and bed them down.

Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Bless with a hard heart those who surround me.
Bless the women and children who firm our hands.
Put our backs to the north wind. Hold fast by the river.
Sweet memories to drive us on for the motherland.

In the half-tone light of a young morning
she sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
to kiss the Pussy Willow.
In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
in a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believing
for her white knight to appear.

Pussy Willow - down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs for the train - see, eight o'clock's coming
cutting dreams down to size again.

Pussy Willow - down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. Hear her typewriter humming
cutting dreams down to size again.

She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing
an apartment in old Mayfair.
Or to fish the Spey, spinning the first run of Spring
or to die for a cause somewhere.

Pussy Willow - down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. Hear her typewriter humming
cutting dreams down to size again.

I sit by the cutting on the Beaconsfield line.
He's watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast - boy, they really fly.
He's still watching me watching you watching the
trains go by.
And the way he stares - feel like locking my door
and pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
making my hair stand - making the goose-bumps crawl.

He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me
I'm watching you watching him watching me
watching Stares.

At the cocktail party with a Bucks Fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
He's still watching me watching you watching the
trains go by.

And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesn't speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand - see his lips move -
what the hell's he trying to say.

He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
I'm watching you watching him watching me
watching Stares.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching
the trains go by.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching him watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.

Take you away for my magic ship.
I have two hundred deisel horses thundering loud.
Sea birds call your name and the mountain's on fire
as the summer lightening cuts the sky like a hot wire.
And you ride on the swell and your heart is alive,
think I'll make you my seal driver.
I'm no great looker, I'm no fast shakes.
I'll give you a steady push on a six knot simmering high tide.
I can hold us down - keep our head to the wind,
or let us roll on the broadside, cold spray flying in,
and we'll ride on the swell and our hearts are alive.
Let me make you my seal driver.

I could captain you if you'd crew for me
follow white flecked spindrift - float on a moonkissed sea.

Could you fancy me as a pirate bold,
or a longship Viking warrior with the old gods on his side?
Well I'm an inshore man and I'm nobody's hero,
but I'll make you tight for a windy night and a dark ride.
Let me take you in hand and bring you alive.
Going to make you my seal driver.

Along the coast road, by the headland
the early lights of winter glow.
I'll pour a cup to you my darling.
Raise it up - say Cheerio.