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We're Glad You've Got a Gun EP

by The Blood Tub Orchestra

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD version, released 2015

    Includes unlimited streaming of We're Glad You've Got a Gun EP via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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1.
Yes, you're looking fine young fellow with a gun across your arm Twas a girl when last we saw you and it filled us with alarm There were older men, much older out in khaki lad, that day But you've left your girl behind you and we know with us she'll say Ah we're glad you've got a gun lad, glad that you're a sport There's time enough for other games, time enough to court We're proud to see you ready to do what must be done Your only aim to play the game We're glad you've got a gun You have left your girl behind, but my warrior brave and bold It's for 'Britain Home and Beauty' as it was in days of old What would be the use of loving, what would loving ever bring If the clank of German sabres down your village street should ring? Ah we're glad you've got a gun lad, glad that you're a sport There's time enough for other games, time enough to court We're proud to see you ready to do what must be done Your only aim to play the game We're glad you've got a gun
2.
In days long ago 'twas my custom you know To dress in my own proper red But to get my own way with you people today I must put on disguises instead Any booby can tell that they don't look so well But what's a poor devil to do? You know I got choused by that rascally Faust And Margaret bested me too. Chorus: It's true she went up, up, up But most of the girls in Town Will find their own level and go to the devil And then they'll go down, down, down. When people look sad because business is bad I don't grumble - what would be the use? I can always contrive here in England to thrive For her trade has all gone to the deuce The taxes increase though the Nation's at peace There are plenty more taxes in store It strikes me there may be the devil to pay If I only can bring on a war. Chorus: The taxes go up, up, up But the people who pay them in Town Want to know why the devil they don't find their level? And sometimes go down, down, down. The Stores years ago I invented you know Thus to ruin small tradesmen I try Though my system was nice I found once or twice It would fail, and I'll just tell you why Ladies won't walk up pairs of impossible stairs To goodness knows how many floors So a lift is supplied and they all get inside Whenever they shop at the stores. Chorus: The lift takes them up, up, up It's one of the largest in Town When they reach a high level, they shop like the devil And then they come down, down, down. Though with infinite care I poison the air There are people who can't see the joke Fools who want to control the burning of coal And make us consume our own smoke But we're too wide awake to make such a mistake In darkness and dirt we delight It must be confessed London's quite at its best While the fog turns the day into night.
3.
Oh father dear father come home with me now We want your new trousers to pawn You promised dear father that you would come home As soon as your wages were gone The broker's mans' threatening to call the police If he cannot doss in the yard This morning I threw at him our only fork It stuck in his bladder of lard Poor Benny is boozed and he can't get about His wooden leg went up the flue We've propped up the table with bundles of wood And ma's put the legs in the stew The fire has gone outside to look for some coke The boiler has threatened to burst The poor little fleas have given in their keys And scooted next door in disgust For the brokers are hanging on the backyard wall Waiting for the two pounds two And the poor little bantam in the rabbit hutch Hasn't got the strength to cock a doodle do do do do The cat and the lodger have shot the moon The poodle's ate the small teeth comb Mother's got the rolling pin, waiting for you to come in So father, father do come home
4.

about

Three Songs all over 100 years old. As far as we know none of them have been performed in the intervening century. And with good reason. The fourth track is a revisit of the first, played through the gun barrel of a tank.

credits

released May 1, 2015

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all rights reserved

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about

The Blood Tub Orchestra London, UK

Songs of the British Music Hall as no one intended them to be heard!

A London based musical rabble (as in Websters definition of ‘a large group of loud people who could become violent.’). A group of individuals now busy dragging up evil smelling offerings from demolished music halls, deconsecrated chapels and boarded up public houses. ... more

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