Skyclad

Skyclad - Any Old Irony lyrics

Your rating:
hurriedly galloping down a dirt-track.
 Six furtive figures, crooked as Caliban;
 Smuggling hope to the land of the claque.

 Weary, hoarse-riders; irksomely blistered.
 Spent from a decade a-roving the road.
 Frigging a jig for our brothers and sisters;
 Stark-raving-madrigals by the cartload.

 Without trepidation I sing in laudation;
 Vocal salute to all travelling tinkers.
 Vagabond nation joined in congregation.
 United free-thinkers cry from the bryony;

 "Any old irony?!"

 Chorus:
 Come one, come all to our travelling circus;
 Cast-off your cares for the painted parade.
 Whirl down the wynd like dervish-berserkers;
 If life hands us lemons; we'll make lemonade.

 Maybe Jay's smashed (?), drumming up passion;
 Scarring forever with each brisk tattoo
 Bean's in the place so bass is in fashion,
 killing us all with his amp set on 2.

 Watch out for Ridley The Raucously Tiddly,
 Unplugged he's no Dr. Jekyll....so Hyde!
 Desperate-Dan-Ramsey; deft fingers diddle.
 Watching The Match on a telly stage-side.

 The cat on the fiddle, Miss Georgie Biddle;
 Keeping it reeling with her fugue electric.
 Stuck in the middle I'll rhyme you a riddle;
 Irate and eclectic my cry from the bryony;

 "Any old irony?!"

 Chorus:
 Come one, come all to our travelling circus;
 Cast-off your cares for the painted parade.
 Whirl down the wynd like dervish-berserkers;
 If life hands us lemons; we'll make lemonade
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: Martin Walkyier

Composer: ?

Publisher: Nuclear Blast

Details:

Released in: 2000

Language: English

Appearing on: Folkémon (2000)

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found