Variations On A Theme, 1983

Pedestrian Walk.
The hands in my pockets are like buckets in the ocean -
they sink but I know where they are.

And the buckets in an ocean are like hands in my pockets -
attached to my arms they don't go far.

And the hands in my pockets are like buckets in an ocean -
treasure they might recover.

And the buckets in an ocean are like hands in my pockets -
a strange creepy thing they might uncover.

My hands are leaves tumbling down,
down we slip into a quiet inner world.
Bubbles.
Bubbles of lint.
Where the sunlight is rarely seen,
and the moon is a golden dream.
Writers: Thomas-Thornton.
©1983 Bug Music / Complete Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Bird Town.
What's the name of this town?
Hey.
Hey, you -
With a duck on your head.
What's the name of this town?
The name of the town, believe it or not, is Bird Town.

Hey, kid.
What's the name of this town?
Is it Giraffe Town?
Is it Armadillo Town?
Is it Frog Town?
Is it Marsupial Town?
The name of the town, believe it or not, is Bird Town.
Writers: Thomas-Thompson.
©1983 Bug Music / Island Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

A Day At The Botanical Gardens.
As we talk even now I see so clear the lovers that we'd always been.
Oh, what a long time ago.
I fear the bitter times,
the bitter times we've come to know.

Let's strike up the band -
in time or blind,
we'll dance across the shifting sands.
Oh, what a strange kind of faith.
I fear the bitter times,
the bitter times we've come to know

Play the drums & hang the tunes.
Dance beneath the dancing moon.
We laugh & cry to think again of better days.

What about us two would interest you?
Writers: Thomas.
©1983 Bug Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

The Egg & I.
What has become of the things Humpty Dumpty learned?
Sat on a wall & had a great fall.

What has become of the things Humpty Dumpty learned?
The Egg & I cannot deny the consequence of being bootless.

What has become of the things Humpty Dumpty learned?

What is the cause of his great fall?
Nobody warned him that an egg does tend to roll.

What has become of the things Humpty Dumpty learned?
The Egg & I cannot deny the consequence of being bootless.

What is the cause of his great fall?
Could it have been forgetfulness?
Isn't it a crying shame the same things happen again?
But again, and again, and again?!
Writers: Thomas-Fier.
©1983 Bug Music / Complete Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Who Is It?
He is hunted for fur.
He's made into hats.
He deserves better than that.
Now that you have a clue can you tell me who is it?

He's a hydraulic engineer,
but he's shy.
Now, that you have a clue can you tell me who is it?

He opens habitats on nature's frontier,
and you might say it's his "habitual" career.
Now, that you have a clue can you tell me who is it?

Natural fluidity channeled by castoridae, see?

The evidence of ancient dams suggests an origin to prairies & wetlands
Now, that you have a clue can you tell me who is it?

Hunted for fur.
Made into hats.
He deserves better than that.
Writers: Thomas-Cutler-Cooper.
©1983 Bug Music / Arcades Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Song Of The Hoe.
Woe for the weeds when they meet me, says Hoe.
ho ho ho
oh oh oh
Crocodile tears from a hoe.

The jack daw crows, Use that hoe. Let those sprouts grow.
Woe for the weeds, says Hoe.
oh oh oh
ho ho ho
Writers: Thomas.
©1983 Bug Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Hurry Back.
I've never known eyes to smile half so sadly as that.
Until now.
This moment.
And I've never known words to fail me anything like this badly.
Before.
Before now.

The traces of tears are not erased by the tips of my fingers.
Like they ought to.
Ought to be.
And the words are in my throat -
they are caught there & lost, or drowned,
or they linger to be swept,
To be swept away.

Who would believe that as bad as it gets that it's just getting worse?
Burn! Burn!
That as bad as it gets it's just getting worse?
Turn, Turn away.

The house is on fire & there is no one to save it.
Is there really no way,
and no one?
And the flames that consume what is left of our love are fearsome.
And they're cruel.
And merciless.
Writers: Thomas-Jones.
©1983 Bug Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

The Rain.
Worried man under a worried rain.
Worried rain worried the roofing.
Worried man sang us a worried song.
Worried rain will not be remembered.
Writers: Thomas-Cutler-Fier.
© 1983 Bug Music / Arcades Music / Complete Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Semaphore.
Busy-ness is better than idleness.

Here is a story that's sad but true,
about a fellow who lives in a shoe.
The lure of a task he cannot resist.
And there's never quite enough to do.

My hands are complicated, complicated thoughts.
My thoughts are complicated too.
My hands are busy days.
My hands like busy days - they don't like holidays.

Here is the dread & the weightlessness that comes where there is nothing to do,
and who has not heard of the Hesperus -
helpless, awash & askew?

Busy-ness or Idleness?

It's a flurry of awkwardnesses that signals the lack of a clue.
Monstrous indeed are the consequences when there's never quite enough to do.

My hands are complicated -
What me prevaricate?
Why, you know the consequence of not enough to do!
My hands are Katzenjammers -
Little kids, big hammers.
My hands are Katzenjammers -
Grown men stare & stammer.

Busy-ness is better than idleness.

My hands articulated complicated thoughts.
My thoughts are complicated, complicated too.
My hands are semaphores.
Some semaphores are paradoxes.
My hands are semaphores.
Some semaphores are... ha!
Writers: Thomas-Cutler-Cooper-Monck.
© 1983 Bug Music / Arcades Music.
Lyrics by David Thomas.

Back to the Top

Main Pages at the Home of Ubu Projex:
Calendar • Contacts • Home • Reference • Protocols • Ubutique (Shop) • Press Center

An Irony-Free™ Site