* * * LYRICS * * *

Beside Me I Dreamed I Stopped Smoking Might as Well Saturday Evening Down in Verdun
Car Keys Id Rather Walk Old Man Santo Spill Yer Guts
Carla I Tried Old Mutt Murphy Ten Years Younger
Couldnt We Joes Report from the AfterLife Perpetual Motion Water & Stone
Flower of the middle Class   Rosy Rear View When I was a Young Man


Joe's Report from the Afterlife

Joe's Report from the Afterlife


On a Sunday evening in the plastic paddy pub

There were Algerians and Russians playing rub-a-dub

There were dissidents and malcontents from many different nations

Heretics and infidels of all denominations

There were mandolins and dulcimers, fiddlers and fluters

Bass and concertina, bhodran and djarboukas

The music it was smokin' and the craic was more than fair

Then I saw a ghostly form in the only empty chair


I said "Hey Joe, how's the weather where you are?

Is you time spent meditating or hanging round in bars?

Did the cats in the scriptures paint a picture clear enough,

Is it Nirvana or Valhalla or the land of Tir-nan-Och?

Have they sorted out the problems that we're knee-deep in down here

Is it something to look forward to or something I should fear?"

He said "Oh man, the truth would fry your brain, why don't you

Take it to the bridge 'till I try to explain?


I saw Jesus and Mohammed arm-in-arm commiserating

About all the harm that's been done in their names

How instead of peace and love, it's been building walls and hating

Instead of loving life, it's been filling it with shame

And right-wing politicians and all like-minded others

Have been reincarnated and come back as single mothers

And there's pile & piles of drugs of any kind whatever

But we don't have to take them 'cause we've got our shit together"


Then Joe stood up, said "Well folks, I gotta move,

Keep one eye on each other and the other one on the groove.

Truth and rights are the things to advance to,

Always keep on working for a revolution you can dance to.

Try to stay free, don't try and count your losses,

Don't take no wooden nickels from no cheapskate brown-shirt bosses"

I said "Hey Joe, you give me something to aspire to;

Politics, style, and fun, and music to perspire to."


Patrick Hutchinson ©  2005 SOCAN


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