Elton John (62,13 %)
Rock of the Westies (40,37 %)
Released: 1975-10-04
Type: Studio
Type: Studio
Ranking:
Artist:
14
Year (1975):
61
Decade (1970's):
548
Overall:
2592
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1.
Medley: Yell Help/Wednesday Night/Ugly
 06:15
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2.
Dan Dare (Pilot of the Future)
 03:29
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3.
Island Girl
03:42
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4.
Grow Some Funk on Your Own
 04:48
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5.
I Feel Like a Bullet (In the Gun of Robert Ford)
05:27
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6.
Street Kids
06:25
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7.
Hard Luck Story
05:16
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8.
Feed Me
04:01
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9.
Billy Bones and the White Bird
04:40
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Album length:
44:03
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Lyrics |
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1.
Medley: Yell Help/Wednesday Night/Ugly
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Yell help, too many cooks and a bird in the bush, yell help Yell help, if your mirror busts and your cat gets cussed, yell help Cause down the road you find someone else who's looking Down the road you find another sweet lady cooking So I gotta yell help Yell help, some shelter from the storm like the travel agent warned Yell help, if you can help your superstitions they gonna keep you warm Cause down the road you find someone else who's looking Down the road you seen another sweet lady cooking So I gotta yell help I wish tonight wasn't Wednesday night I wish it wasn't the thirteenth of July, yell help And you're looking at the guy whose eyes can't deny That he wishes he were somewhere else tonight Well I met this woman down in New Orleans Lord she built just like a dream Even wore stockings that had seams And she was ugly Now hell I don't mind women of her kind I'll even pay sometimes for a woman that's ugly She built like a steamroller Just the kind to mow you over anytime Hey the moment might arrive On Bourbon Street Well the ugliest woman you'll ever meet But she's mine all mine and she's ugly So I better yell help |
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2.
Dan Dare (Pilot of the Future)
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Can you tell me how old Dan might have done it If he'd been here now, holy cow My stars might have been read on the planet Mars Because I don't have foresight to see If we still be together in the twenty first In the twenty first century He's our flying ace, pilot of the future In an endless space, holy cow My eyes never saw a rocket that was quite that size Because I don't have the energy To be cat and mouse for the champions For the champions of destiny So long captain Dan I fail to see what motivates your hands Goodbye restless night You know I loved Dan Dare, but I couldn't make his flight So long, so long Dan Dare doesn't know it He doesn't know it He doesn't know it But I liked the Meko |
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3.
Island Girl
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I see your teeth flash, Jamaican honey so sweet Down where Lexington cross 47th Street She's a big girl; she's standing six-foot three Turning tricks for the dudes in the big city Island girl What you wanting with the white man's world? Island girl Black boy want you in his island world He want to take you from the racket boss He want to save you, but the cause is lost Island girl, island girl, island girl Tell me what you wanting with the white man's world She's black as coal, but she burn like a fire And she wrap herself around you like a well-worn tire You feel her nail scratch your back just like a rake He one more gone; he one more John who make the mistake |
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4.
Grow Some Funk on Your Own
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Yeah, I looked at my watch and it said a quarter to five The headlines screamed that I was still alive I couldn't understand it I thought I died last night Oh, I dreamed I'd been in a border town In a little cantina that the boys had found I was desperate to dance Just to dig the local sounds When along came a señorita She looked so good that I had to meet her I was ready to approach her with my English charm When her brass knuckled boyfriend grabbed me my the arm And he said, "grow some funk of your own, amigo Grow some funk of your own We no like to with the gringo fight But there might be a death in Mexico tonight If you can't grow some funk of your own, amigo Grow some funk of your own Take my advice, take the next flight And grow your funk, grow your funk at home." Well, I looked for support from the rest of my friends For their vanishing trick they get ten out of ten I knelt to pray Just to see if he would comprehend |
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5.
I Feel Like a Bullet (In the Gun of Robert Ford)
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Like a corn in a field I cut you down I threw the last punch too hard After years of going steady, well I thought that it was time To throw in my hand for a new set of cards And I can't take you dancing out on the weekend I figured we'd painted too much of this town And I tried not to look as I walked to my wagon And I knew then I had lost what should have been found I knew then I had lost what should have been found And I feel like a bullet in the gun of Robert Ford I'm low as a paid assassin is You know I'm cold as a hired sword I'm so ashamed can't we patch it up You know I can't think straight no more You make me feel like a bullet honey in the gun of Robert Ford Like a child when his toys have been stepped on That's how it all seemed to me I burst the bubble that both of us lived in And I'm damned if I'll ever get rid of this guilt that I feel And if looks could kill then I'd be a dead man Your friends and mine don't call no more Hell, I thought it was best but now I feel branded Breaking up's sometimes like breaking the law Breaking up's sometimes like breaking the law |
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6.
Street Kids
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They must have had the whole thing planned There must have been a hundred If we make a stand I think we'll be outnumbered If I'd had the chance Then I could understand Why I'm a juvenile delinquent In an East End gang And if you think you've seen gasoline burning in my eyes Don't be alarmed, tell yourself it's good to be, it's good to be alive It's just another street kid on your tail Running on the wrong side of the rails With my boot lace tie and my hand-me-downs You know I run the toughest bunch this side of town Those street kids making news just being around I've been bottled and been brained Squealers can't be trusted If we fight tonight You can bet we'll all be busted I'd like to break away From the rut I'm in But beggars can't be choosers And I was born to sin Let's hear it for the street kids Making news just being around |
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7.
Hard Luck Story
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Sometimes I think I'm going crazy Staring at the same four walls Waiting for the working day to end Then I get home so wasted, worn out I curse at you and tell you How I've done the work of ten to fifteen men How I've struggled for my money Sweated blood to get us by, yeah Well I'm tired of it honey Think I'm gonna have to leave here for a while All you hear are hard luck stories And the ways I look at life And the way I think the world treats me And the way that I treat my wife I never seem to look at you And see that somewhere underneath A pair of tired eyes are crying out Well you know I work hard all day long Let me kiss you once with meaning Just to kill this nagging doubt Well you don't deny I do you proud And you expect me to be tired You say there's no future in our lives While I persist I'm putting out the fire All you hear are hard luck stories Just a few well chosen words 'Cause you're still the woman of a working man You've got the heart of a working girl |
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8.
Feed Me
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Don't close the shades I'm scared of the darkness I'm cold as a razor blade Inches from madness Don't let me sleep here They're all trying to kill me I've seen the walls moving They've all heard me screaming, screaming Feed me Feed my needs and then just leave me Let me go back where you found me \'Cause I miss my basement The sweet smell of new paint The warmth and the comforts of home So feed me Give me my treatment and free me My arms are so hungry so feed me The room's so distorted And filled with mad shadows I feel like a carcass White like a marrow bone It all seems so long ago I remember them laughing I heard the ambulance scream I saw the red light flashing, flashing |
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9.
Billy Bones and the White Bird
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Take the wheel I hear the timbers creaking Take the wheel I think this ship is sinking Jamaica seems so far and I've been thinking Old Billy Bones has gone to sea and quit his dockside drinking Check it out, check it out, check it out And when I'm dead who'll fly the White Bird home I'm not the ancient mariner your children know And the sea's the field these old jack tars have sown \'Cause Billy Bones just wants to know who'll fly the White Bird home Oh your majesty, your majesty I heard the boson cry Old Billy Bones has washed ashore Upon a foreign tide |