ALL THE NOISE OF THE FAIR
©Trev Teasdel, Coventry June 1971


Chorus
All the noise of the fair
All the noise of the fair
All the noise of the fair


Roll up and try your luck
Win a fish and pick a straw
Take a ride on a heartbreak roller-coaster.


What’s she doing in another man’s arms?
What’s she doing in another man’s arms?
What the hell she doing in another man’s arms?


I feel like a derelict house
Rubble tumbled tot he ground
I feel like a derelict house
Rubble tumbled to the ground.
She walks past like she could not care
No use me pretending that she’s not there.


All the pain of the fair
All the pain of the fair
All the pain of the fair.


Shoot your blues away on a sixpenny shotgun
Win a coconut and blow your mind.
I wander by in my helter skelter confusion
ponder at the scenes life puts me through.


All the hell of the fair
All the hell of the fair
All the hell of the fair.


The girl he loves, loves another man
Who is loved by another girl that he don’t love.
And I have felt the same sometime
Yes I have felt the pain sometime.


Whoosh bam bang goes the rocket!
Click bang ping cries the pellet
Blows against my head
Blows against my head


All the hell of the fair
All the hell of the fair
All the hell of the fair.

CHILDHOOD STREET
©Trev Teasdel, Coventry October 1968


Pavements are cracked
Chimney’s unstacked.
Lawns unmowed by windows
Where lights once glowed.
Lamposts have collapsed
And time has elapsed.


Oh the street of my childhood
Is a street full of black mud
And fallen is the house in which I grew
With my parents and people I once knew.


Of the familiar scenes
That filled my dreams
All that remains
are the bricks and the beams.
I’m feeling so lost
My mind’s being tossed
from end to end
as present and past try to blend.


Where cars once drove
and folks once strove
To keep a family alive
is but now a dark and dismal sight.
Hiding its fallen face from the light.


Like an empty shell upon the shore
Childhood street won’t live no more
‘cept within my dreams.

FROM HIS POINT OF VIEW
(OR TALES OF ARTHUR)
©Trev Teasdel, Coventry, June 1968

I’m like a speck o’ dust that just got crushed
in the rush for freedom.
Pursuing my ends, following trends
a hurting feeling that never ends.
Disdaining convention, proclaiming intentions
Announcing a brand new invention.


I know a man who had a head as big as a bed
Well that’s what they said.
He had a belief he was Commander in Chief,
he wasn’t really, what a relief.
From his point of view
Nobody knew what to do.
He was king, he was referee
He was connoisseur, he was a boss
But basically he was a dead loss.


Love is a craze found in a maze
That leaves you with a hazy daze.
T’was watching a Hawk who started to talk
Said he came from a place called York.
‘Twiddling my thumbs, the Eagle hums
Eating his biscuit crumbs.


I got the real Cockney blues
Said a Clown whose
trousers fell down on the bus.
With threatening wars and threatening strikes
They’ll be manufacturing armoured push bikes.


A girl called Junie was a proverbial loony
So she went to the doctor man
who sent her to Peter Pan, in Wonderland.
I’m being used, I’m being abused
I guess that I am just confused.
I’m a cynosure which means everyone knows ya.
I guess I’ll just drink my bread away hopelessly.

SANDY, YOU’RE IN THE PAST TENSE NOW
©Trev Teasdel, Coventry, September 1969


Your face is like a heavenly palace
Your eyes, so sympathetic and wise.
Now down the long dark and lonely track I tread,
Wearily, with my burdens on my back.
Someone’s turned the light off
and the current cannot flow.
Sandy, You’re in the past tense now.


I cannot ride the train of life alone.
I am a pebble but was a larger stone.
I am a king that’s been dethroned.
A dog on the street that’s been disowned.
Someone turned the switch off
and the current cannot flow
Sandy, you’re in the past tense now.


The bridge of continuity has opened wide and angry jaws.
Our romance was founded on subsiding shores.
U-p the golden spiral staircase I did ascend.
But the air grew thin on oxygen
and forced us to descend.
Sandy, you’re in the past tense now.


And now, as i look over the bombed sight
of my present life; rubble scattered, rats run rife.
Tears won;t clear away the mess.
tears won;t lead to happiness.
Someone’s chopped the trees down
and the winds of freedom blow.
Sandy, You’re in the past tense now.
Someone’s turned the switch off
and the current cannot flow
Sandy, you’re in the past tense now.

BACK ON HOME
©Trev Teasdel Coventry May 1970


Well your love for me
Like great vaults of gold
You say is shining so brightly in your mind.
But I’m wise to you babe
My eyes see through you babe.
I’m just a leaning post
A standing stool.
You tell me that I’m the most
But i know i’m just your fool.


So I’m sending your love all back home
That’s why I’m sending your love all back home.


You know I love you babe
I can not tell a lie
But to know your game
I don’t have to try
For it’s plain to see
You’re just piggyback riding me.


You felt so boared with life
Feeling so sorry for yourself
Friends all let you down.
Your smile has withered to a frown
Fate has you on the outside of the garden gate
And i’m just a passing breeze.
Til the garden gate is opened.


Oh i wish it could be different girl
But with others you’re in a different world
You leave me on my own
Your vaults have turned to stone.

IF IT’S LOVE THAT YOU WANT

DOWN AT JOHNNY’S PAD

The drums of the wind are beating
The night is awash with electric tears
Bushes dance to the riff of the city
Oh he can’t play his Farfiza
Like the wind howls the blues tonight
No he can’t play his Farfiza
Like the wind howls the blues

WHAT IS THE SITUATION?
©Trev Teasdel Coventry October 1970


Here i sit
staring at the sun
squirming molten lava that it is.
All is calm
All is quiet
Tranquillity the colour of the room.


What is the situation
When you live for what is ‘Now‘?
I am always hustle bustle in the bedlam of my dreams,
Living on my ‘if only’ island.,
Reliving what is passed.
No wonder I feel so tired,
Squandering my energies in this way.
So I ask myself  “What is the situation?“
“What are the problems of the Now?“


Here I sit
Nothing particular to do.
The sun is shining bright
and all is calm.
Isn’t everything just beautiful?
Looking hard at all that is around me.
Taking down some observations,
Noticing how a flower dances in the gentle breeze.
And i feel calm
And I feel free,
Why can’t I remain this way forever?
Instead of creating situations
that don’t exist right now..
But there i go, off into the action of a dream,
burning energy i could better use.


So sitting here
My body floats
Far away from the evil warlocks of my dreams.
Reality is the escapist’s dream.
Looking all around me now
Seeing all that i missed
whilst in the bedlam of my dreams.
Crossing bridges
when i come to them.
So here I sit
staring at the sun
Not a wishing or a hoping
Just looking at the colours of a tree.

WHITMORE HOUSE
©Trev Teasdel Coventry October 1970


It’s so sad that we have to leave
It’s too bad, it was short but sweet.
Oh oh Whitmore House
You served us well.
Oh Whitmore House
You served us well.


There were some good times
although
There were some bad times
I know
But that was only to be expected.
Oh Whitmore House
You served us well
Oh Whitmore House
You served us well.


You showed a kindly heart
To those from other towns.
You provided a meeting place
For all our friends around.
You were the base of all our activities.
and you were handy, oh so handy.
Oh Whitmore House
we do miss you.
Oh Whitmore House
We do love you.


Have to leave old Whitmore House.
Have to leave old Whitmore House
Have to leave old Whitmore House
Have to leave old Whitmore House.


What are we going to do
Now that we have not you?
Thanks, it’s a shame that we are through.
Oh Whitmore House
We do miss you
Oh Whitmore House
We do love you.


Have to leave old Whitmore House
Have to leave old Whitmore House
Have to leave old Whitmore House
Have to leave old Whitmore House