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Politics, Religion and Sex

by Bruce Watson

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1.
Amazon 04:33
In the time it takes to sing this song There'll be four acres cleared in the Amazon The jungle burns all through the night They say you can see it from a satellite The smoke's so thick for miles around They have to close the airports down The green of the jungle turns to flaming red As another cattle ranch gets the go ahead Now hamburgers grow where the forest once stood Somehow I get the feeling that we've all been fooled I heard a man on the TV say That if they take the forest away The world will be ruined, our future will go He's a Kayapo, so he should know But this very same man still cuts down trees For him it's a question of necessity A family to feed, and he must pay the rent But when you add it all up it just doesn't make sense I heard about a man called Chico Mendes He fought the cattle ranchers head to head He taught the rubber-tappers to stand up and fight To protect the forest which is theirs by right But the ranchers had their claims to lay They wouldn't let a conservationist stand in their way One night at his home they took him unawares – Forty bullets in the back for Chico Mendes The green of the jungle turns to flaming red As another cattle ranch gets the go ahead Now hamburgers grow where the forest once stood Somehow I get the feeling that we've all been fooled
2.
Well, we've saved the Giant Panda and we've saved the great Blue Whale And we've saved that kind of furry thing with the sort of funny tail And we've even saved the Franklin from those nasty Hydro rogues And we've saved the savage crocodile, with the help of Dundee Hoges But there's one poor little fella whose headcount is on the wane – We can save him if we want to – let's all sing this sweet refrain . . . . Save the hippy! Help get their heads together man! Can you dig it? Like wow! That's cool if you can! Save the hippy! Let them hang it all out! Let's all make a big joint effort! Oh, don't let them die out! It's only 20 years ago their numbers were so high And they were all high too, man, up in their spiritual sky But now this world's a heavy trip, and love ain't all you need Oh, what would Jimi Hendrix say? And where are you Grateful Dead? Yes, The Doors and Cream are gone now, this ain't 1968 Let's strip off and all dance naked, and transcendentally meditate (to) . . Now they're only found in Nimbin, and in places like Nepal And the sales of flares and incense has continued, man, to fall We should buy that farm at Woodstock, make it a hippy preserve Let's put all the hippies on it, a have a good old perve Watch them turn on, tune in, drop out, feed them lentils, grow them dope Yes, flower power can live on, give them some psychedelic hope (and) .
3.
I've been away for a couple of years Living in the U.S.A. Sad to leave – yes there were some tears It's always hard to go away Don't know what I really miss the most I guess the people that I knew But New York City and the winter snows I really miss them too (but . . . ) It's good to be back in Melbourne I think it's where I'll stay Oh it's good to be back in Melbourne I think Melbourne's O.K. I missed the Yarra, though it's full of mud They say it flows upside down But it's so pretty up round Warrandyte – Melbourne's not a bad town It's good to get back to the ABC The Yanks got nothing quite so good And I missed the footy, and the MCG – A chance to boo at Collingwood! I love the trams that run down Swanston St. Though I wish they weren't so slow And the old Vic Market's great for veggies and meat And the buskers put on such a show Warm summer nights at Myer Music Bowl The coffee shops on Lygon Street Where Italian juke boxes play rock and roll And you just sit and talk and eat I've been away for a couple of years Living in the U.S.A. Was sad to leave – yes there were some tears It's always hard to go away But I think Melbourne's where I'll stay
4.
Who's the leader of the commies, which nobody can deny? M-I-K-H-A-I-L G-O-R-B-Y Gorbachev (Gorbachev) Gorbachev (Gorbachev) Forever let us hold the red flag high! (High, High, High!) Come along and sing a song of spy and counter-spy M-I-K-H-A-I-L G-O-R-B-Y M-I-K – (That's KGB) H-A-I-L G – (Gee, let’s hope he survives the byzantine machinations of the Soviet political system) – O-R-B-Y – Why? Because we like him! It all began with Marx, that's Karl, not Groucho He wrote lots of great big books, he really was no slouch, oh He tried to make life pleasant for the worker and the peasant He started the whole thing off! (Oy!) Then came Lenin, that's Vladimir not John He wouldn't rest until the aristocracy was gone He led the revolution, then Stalin carried on Not a patch on Gorbachev! (Oy!) Khruschev, Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov He waited patiently for all of them to drop of Now he’s General Secretary, there’s nobody on top of Michael Gorbachev! (Oy!) Some say that he has traded the sickle and the hammer For Western decadence and a fickle kind of glamour But let's face it, what's more dreary than dialectical theory And Gorby had had enough! (Oy!) If anyone suspects that Gorby isn't really red You only have to look at that birthmark on his head And at least he isn't ruling six months after he is dead He doesn't even have a bad cough! (Oy!) All the leaders of the past had been ill and psychiatric And whatever their names were they were really Gerry Atric And now there’s this new piker who they all call Perry Stroiker A mate of Gorbachev! (Oy!) So now the USSR has blue jeans and pantyhoses But he must be careful who he helps and who he indisposes 'Cause we all know that a Gorby to get up people's noses – So watch out Gorbachev! (Oy!) The arms negotiations Gory handled very well He really stuck it up Reagan’s nuclear arse . . . nal And how he rose in stature when he brown-nosed Mrs Thatcher He really pulled it off! (Oy!) Though us bourgeois running dogs and paper tigers in the West Think that Gorby is fantastic – that Gorby is the best To the Russians he's inferior, he may wind up in Siberia His Glasnost may be cut of! (Oy!)
5.
If Jesus were alive today in Australia's happy land Would he be an ocker, would he be true blue? Would he say "G'day' to tourists, would he lend his mates a hand? Would he toss another prawn on the barbeque? And if he was a carpenter, would he join the B.L.F.? I wonder what would be his point of view? Would he vote for Fred Nile's Party? Would he join the socialist left? I wonder just exactly what he'd do And if he went to a wedding, and the grog was running out Would he change the water into Fosters Beer? Would he hang around with dero's? Would he be some kind of lout? And do you reckon he would be too welcome here? And in 1988 would he have said to celebrate? Or would he say that we should hang our heads in shame? Or would he say what's gone is gone, the problem now's to right the wrong And try to live together all the same Would his mother's name be Raelene? Would his father's name be Jack? Would he grow up in a house of brick veneer? And do you reckon he would come to town riding on a donkey's back? Or would he rather drive a Holden Camira? And when he chose disciples, do you think they'd all be blokes? Or do you think he's give some women a go? Would he go for Ita Buttrose? Or, maybe Lady Flo, She's a Christian after all – but then so's Joh! And would he have his last supper at some dive in Brunswick St.? And is it wholemeal lentil burgers they'd be eating? And would he claim it on expenses, and avoid the FBT? Or would he render unto Keating what is Keating's? And would he try to help the weak, and those who've lost their pride The helpless and the homeless and the poor? And would we just ignore him, or have him crucified? Just like they did two thousand years before
6.
The Sperm 04:08
I'm going to sing a song now, with me as the main topic So let me introduce myself, I'm a cell that's microscopic I look just like a tadpole, or a little like a worm I think you should have guessed it by now, yes I'm a sperm! I haven't got a name yet, and all I do is squiggle and squirm It's not thrilling, but it's quite the thing to do when you're a sperm I don't know if I'll end up as a woman or a he-man And I don't know much about sailing, but I like to mix with semen! Oh, I really am a goer, and I know I'm going to show 'em I'm a spermatozoa! Or is that spermatozoon? It's an interesting life to be the seed of some man's loin But it isn't very comfortable living down here in his groin I don't know much about parliament or about democracy But I do know that my member is sure to stand up for me! I hope my man is macho, with a lot of pluck and spunk I'd really be jacked off if he turned out to be a monk Or maybe he's a copper working in a police station Let's hope so, 'cause my future all depends on cop ulation My aim in life's to meet a mate, I'm sure that is your inference But from where I am to where I want to be there's a vas deferens To make an overture to an ovum is what I want And I'm sure that there'll be plenty there who'll try to egg me on! I'm waiting for some action, I'm just sitting by the phone When I get the call I'll do my all to match up chromosomes I've combed my hair, I've cleaned my teeth, I've thought up ways and means I'm aching for the action – I'm dressed in my best genes! My life is very pleasant, and my worries they are few I don't have to do the dishes, or pay the rent like you There's only one thing in the world that really troubles me It's the prospect that my man might have a vasectomy! Now, IVF don't bother me, I think it's quite OK It's the only chance a sperm might get to see the light of day! I can't conceive of anything that I would rather do It's the only place a sperm can get a womb with a view! Yes I really am determined that I will put on a show This spunky little sperm is going to be an embryo!
7.
Leonard Cohen brings you down to the depths of depression You can listen to him for hours, you can spend the night just crying And you know he'll send you crazy, that's why you want to stop it And you start to slash your wrists and hang yourself from the ceiling And just when you start believing that this world you're finally leaving Then somebody stops the record, and you feel a little better 'Cause his songs are so depressing And you want to smash the record And destroy the record player But you know that you can't do it 'Cause he's destroyed the very fabric of your mind Now, the only thing that's worse than all those hours of Leonard Cohen Is to spend a long time listening to all his imitators going Through all those incomprehensible songs like Suzanne and So Long Marianne Who think that all men should be Cohen freaks and sing all songs in A minor Their guitars should all be broken, they should be banished to New Zealand They're disgusting, not quite human – they should sink into the ocean Like a stone And they want to travel with you And they want to travel blind But you know you shouldn't let them They'll destroy the very fabric of your mind
8.
Folk Rap 02:30
Well folk music's been around for years Some songs are funny, some reduce you to tears You got traditional, contemporary – the old and the new You got the Irish and the English, Australian too You got ethnic music – that's multi cultural It's lots of fun, you can really have a ball But here's something new that'll make you snap It's the Folk Rap! Forget your concertina, fiddle and flute And acoustic guitar – they may be cute But they just don't got that funky beat Like the hip hop sound, that gets you tapping your feet. You need electric guitar and a drum machine If you wanna make music that's cool and mean I’m talkin' about the sound, man – you'll have to adapt: It's the Folk Rap! Roll over Eric Bogle and Danny Spooner Gonna have to make way for a new kind of crooner You just take a song everybody knows And rap it to the rhythm – here's how it goes: "Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong Under the shade of a coolabah tree He sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled 'Who'll come and do the Folk Rap with me?'" "All among the wool, boys, all among the wool Keep your blades full, boys, keep your blades full" "It's a national institution, Australian through and through So come on mate, grab a plate, let's have a barbeque!" "One Sunday morning as I was walking By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray I saw a prisoner, his fate bewailing" He should have been doing the Folk Rap! So now you all know just how it goes Forget your hey and your ho nonny nonny no's And Gaudete Christus Gaudete Ex Maria Virgine – you gotta make way For the brand new sound that's sweeping the land It's the Folk Rap sound – I mean it man! It's new, it's bad, it's ace, it ain't whack! It's the Folk Rap!
9.
Eight Trees 03:42
There's eight trees standing by the side of the road in Clifton Hill Cars zoom by, people stroll around, if they've got time to kill Eight trees standing there in memory Of eight souls cut down innocently Eight trees standing by the side of the road The morning papers were screaming about a man on a killing spree He was shooting at cars and people, anything that he could see He must have been crazy, everybody said A menace to society, better off dead The morning papers were screaming the news Up at Duntroon they trained him to kill efficiently If you think your target's human, then you haven't been trained sufficiently Killing for your country's a glorious thing Shooting up gooks for country and king Up at Duntroon they trained him to kill Late one Sunday night he went out with his guns and his combat gear Shooting moving targets like they'd trained him, trying to show no fear Got some through the window, got some running away The others weren't so easy – quite a challenge, you'd say Eight people dead by the side of the road
10.
David's on the car phone of his Porsche, there's a deal he's trying to force He plays it cool, he plays it hard There are times you just can't feel remorse, muster every last resource And be always on your guard 35 and out to scale the dizzy heights If life's a candy, why not take a megabyte? He's a mover, he's a high flying kite In the eye of the storm Peter spends his days around the streets, maybe strolls along the beach If the weather's not too cold Now and then he has some friends he meets, maybe grab a bite to eat Happy moments are like gold 25, and never held a job for long There's always something that just happens to go wrong He wishes he could learn to cope, to be strong In the eye of the storm Mr Evans prunes another rose, watches as his garden grows Last night's storm will do some good And tho' he has his highs and lows somewhere deep inside he knows That he'd go back if he could 65, retired – his friends all say he's free But somehow his job had been his whole identity Life is pleasant but if only he could be In the eye of the storm Maryanne and John only just met, they're in love, but that's upset The contented lives they'd made Who would think that love would be a threat, but their marriages seemed set Then this love hit like a grenade Sure, they both married young and went through times of doubt But time and children seemed to sort those problems out If only they weren't both swept up and tossed about In the eye of the storm Some of us are happy, some are not, some are seeking treasures lost Some are scared of what they've found Should we all be thankful for our lot? Should we calculate the cost If we start to look around? Some like sunshine, some like walking through the rain The gentle breeze, the awe inspiring hurricane Some like peacefulness, some feel they've more to gain In the eye of the storm In the eye of the storm

about

This is Bruce Watson’s first album, and it shows how fast he came out of the blocks as a talented songwriter and spirited performer.

And yes, this album does have it all: politics, religion … and sex!

The album opens with the original version of Bruce’s iconic and oft-covered song Amazon, a powerful, yet plaintive anthem for the planet’s greatest forest, led by the unforgettable chorus: “In the time it takes to sing this song, there’ll be four acres cleared in the Amazon.” And in time, Eric Bogle and a host of other Australian and international artists took this song to their hearts and made it their own by recording and performing their own version s of the song.

Save the Hippy is a hilarious anthem to an endangered species, and It’s Good to be Back in Melbourne expresses Bruce’s love for his home town.

Bruce Watson has been a Leonard Cohen addict for decades. He called my first guitar Suzanne! He wroteSong For Leonard as a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the great writer. Eight Trees remembers those who were cut down by a crazed gunman in the streets of Melbourne on Sunday night. Bruce was only hundreds of meters away from this massacre. The Folk Rap is Bruce’s attempt to drag folk music kicking and screaming into the 1980s (which he is still trying to do!). The album finishes with the pensive song, In the Eye of the Storm

The politics? That’s covered by Bruce’s classic song in praise of Mikhail Gorbachev (which includes a tribute to Mickey Mouse – you’ll have to listen to find out!).

The religion? The song Would Jesus be an Ocker? Is a brilliant piece of music which is funny and singable, but, if you listen closely to the words, it really makes you think.

And the sex? Well, there’s the quirky, Woody Allen inspired song The Sperm. Count the bad puns!

credits

released August 4, 2020

BRUCE WATSON: vocals, guitar
GRAHAM WITT: bass, synth
JAMES RIGBY: mandolin
ERNIE GRUNER: fiddle
SARAH BELLAMY: cello
BRUCE STEPHENS: banjo
PETER VADIVELOO: drums:
Vocal harmonies by TWANKYDILLO: (LIS JOHNSTON, MEG MACDONALD, ANNIE McGLADE)
All songs by BRUCE WATSON

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Bruce Watson Melbourne, Australia

Joyful, hilarious, thought provoking and totally engaging original songs from one of Australia's foremost songwriters and performers in the folk style.

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