Lonnie Donegan - Talking Guitar Blues (2011) by Lonnie Donegan (보컬) on maniadb.com

Now the world holds seven wonders
That the travellers always tell
Some gardens and some towers,
I guess you know them well
But now the greatest wonder
Is in Uncle Sam's fair land
It's the big Columbia River
And the big Grand Coulee Dam

She heads up the Canadian Rockies
Where the rippling waters glide
Comes a-roaring down the canyon
For to meet that salty tide
Of the big Pacific Ocean
Where the sun sinks in the west
In the big Grand Coulee country
In the land I love the best

In the misty crystal glitter
Of the wild and windward spray
Men have fought the pounding waters
And met a watery grave
Why, she tore their boats to splinters
But she gave men dreams to dream
Of the day the Coulee Dam
Would cross that wild and wasted stream

Now Uncle Sam took up the challenge
In the year of thirty three
For the farmer and the factory
And all of you and me
He said, "Roll along Columbia,
You can roll down to the sea
But river, while you're rambling
You can do some work for me."

In the misty crystal glitter

Of the wild and windward spray
Men have fought the pounding waters
And met a watery grave
Why, she tore their boats to splinters
But she gave men dreams to dream
Of the day the Coulee Dam
Would cross that wild and wasted stream

Now from Washington and Oregon
You can hear the factories hum
Making chrome and making manganese
And white aluminum
Now the roar of the Flying Fortress
For to fight for Uncle Sam
On the howling King Columbia
By the big Grand Coulee Dam

In the misty crystal glitter
Of the wild and windward spray
Men have fought the pounding waters
And met a watery grave
Why, she tore their boats to splinters
But she gave men dreams to dream
Of the day the Coulee Dam
Would cross that wild and wasted stream

Now the world holds seven wonders
That the travellers always tell
Some gardens and some towers,
Why, I guess you know them well
But now the greatest wonder
Is in Uncle Sam's fair land
It's the big Columbia River
And the big Grand Coulee Dam.

If you wanna get in trouble let me tell you how to do it
Get yourself a guitar and then you're right into it
You play all day and you play all night
People say you'll never learn to play the thing right
Always messing about, groaning at you
Moaning, won't let you practise

So I bought meself a guitar about a year ago
The man said I could learn it in a week or so
Gave me a little book, pick or two
Said, "Here y'are mate, it's up to you"
Dirty rotter, cost me ten nicker, all the loot I had
Good guitar, though, called it a pluckit

Anyway, spent me dough
And I couldn't let it all go to waste, you know
So I took the book, guitar and all
And I went back home where the trees are tall
Down in Woodford, good place to be if you've got a guitar
Pretty rotten if you ain't

Well, for weeks and weeks I worked hard
And I tried to learn a few main chords
The book says they're easy as ABC
Cor, my fingers is killing me, got sore on the ends
Couldn't hold the strings down
Wanted to pack up, cor, I felt rough

Anyway, kept on playing with all me might
I could see Mum's hair was turning white
And her face was lined with discontent
She said her patience was pretty near spent
She was nervous, ears ringing, wanted to scream
You know, couldn't get no relief

So sister, anyway, she took it worst of all
'Cause she got married the following fall
She said "For love" but I got me doubts
I think the guitar chased her out
She's a game girl, though
Just couldn't take it, you know, limit to everything

Dad, he took it a different way
He said, you can turn your Mum's hair grey
Drive your sister away from home
But you or me boy's gonna start to roam
And I ain't going, never intend to
You figure it out, so I did, fast, you know

Anyway, next day had me clothes all packed
And I slung me guitar across me back
Caught meself a great long train
Searched the world for me share of fame
Ain't found none, just hardships, messing about
Skiffle, Tommy Steele

Now here's a little story
To tell it is a must
About an unsung hero
That moves away your dust

Some people make a fortune
Others earn a mint
My old man don't earn much
In fact he's flippin' skint

Oh, my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor-blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat

He looks a proper nana
In his great big hobnail boots
He's got such a job to pull them up
That he calls 'em daisy roots

Some folks give tips at Christmas
And some of them forget
So when he picks their bins up
He spills some on the step

Now one old man got nasty
And to the council wrote
Next time my old man went 'round there
He punched him up the throat

Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor-blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat

Lonnie: I say, I say, Les.
Les: Yes?
Lonnie: I, er, I found a police dog in my dustbin
Les: Well how do you do know he's a police dog?
Lonnie: He had a policeman with him

Though my old man's a dustman
He's got an 'eart of gold
He got married recently
Though he's eighty-six years old

We said "'Ere, hang on, Dad,
You're getting past your prime"
He said "Well, when you get to my age
It helps to pass the time."

Oi! My old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor-blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat

Lonnie: I say, I say, I say!
Les: Huh?
Lonnie: My dustbin's full of lilies.
Les: Well throw 'em away then!
Lonnie: I can't: Lily's wearing them.

Now one day whilst in a hurry
He missed a lady's bin
He hadn't gone but a few yards
When she chased after him

"What game do you think you're playing?"
She cried right from the 'eart
"You've missed me, am I too late?"
"No, jump up on the cart!"

Oi! My old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor-blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat

Lonnie: I say, I say, I say!
Les: Not you again!
Lonnie: My dustbin's absolutely full with toadstools.
Les: How do you know it's full?
Lonnie: 'Cause there's not mushroom inside.

He found a tiger's head one day
Nailed to a piece of wood
The tiger looked like miserable
But I suppose he should

Just then from out a window
A voice began to wail
It said "Oi! Where's me tiger's head?"
"Four foot from his tail."

Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor-blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat

Next time you see a dustman
Looking all pale and sad
Don't kick him in the dustbin
It might be my old dad