Lyrics:
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou knowst it, telling
Yonder
the start, ohh
How am I gonna make my mark? oh-oh
Are you gonna play me, though?
This song was never meant for the radio
I get in, forget a radio spin
There's a town they call Tombstone where the brave never cry
They lived by a sixgun by a sixgun they died
It's been a long time now since the town was
I am Jeremiah Dixon
I am a Geordie boy
A glass of wine with you, sir
And the ladies I'll enjoy
All Durham and Northumberland
Is measured up by
dancer, a dancer for money
And any old music will do
Deutch marks or dollars
American Express will do nicely, thank you
Let me loosen up your collar
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou knowst it, telling
Yonder
sit sipping their tea, watch the sea
Move the sand through their heads (sit in their chairs by the bay)
Did I show you the marks on the wall
Left by
To come back around
To the cactus in the valley
That's about to crumble down
And wipe the mark of sadness from my face
Show me that your love will
To come back around
To the cactus in the valley
That's about to crumble down
And wipe the mark of sadness from my face
Show me that your love will
Across cold water lies the sun
For now the journey has begun
The soldiers marching one by one
With golden light and silver drums
For the battle
'round.
A mark, a yen, a buck or a pound
...a buck or a pound
...a buck or a pound.
Is all that makes the world go around
That clinking, clanking sound...
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside
Now mark what followed and what did betide
For it bein'
night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page and stand by me
If thou knows it telling
Yonder
the dark, I plummet
Now the sky's blackening, I know the mark's high
Butter-flies rip apart my stomach
Knowing that no matter what bars I come with
You're
I am Jeremiah Dixon
I am a Geordie boy
A glass of wine with you, sir
And the ladies I'll enjoy
All Durham and Northumberland
Is measured up by my own
seen most of you since mama passed away
And that old chair that rocked us all will be auctioned off today
Well I guess you know of course I lost
dancer, a dancer for money
And any old music will do
Deutch marks or dollars
American Express will do nicely, thank you
Let me loosen up your collar
If I close my ears
To the feeble cry
Of the poor man's child
As he passes by me
I can mark Your word
There will come a time
When my cries will fall
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page and stand by me
If thou knows it telling
Yonder peasant, who
need inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a pin
I will follow every direction
Just lace up your shoes while I'm fetching a sleeping bag,
Let's make a toast to the damned
Waitin' for tomorrow
When we're played out by the band
Drowning out our sorrows
What will become of us now
Six lessons from Madame La Zonga
You do the Rumba and the new La Conga
Six lessons in Madame's cabana
And you will imagine you're down in Havana
At the doorstep to Hell
Within its darkness the demons dwell
From the dark age the passage hail
Created by witchcraft and hate
Where every sinner will meet
And people will come from miles around
To see Asthma Mark a-wheezing and a-playing
A-playing and a-wheezing and spewing
And a-foaming they say
We love you,
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