1. |
||||
"She Loves You"
(J. W. Lennon - J. P. McCartney)
[Intro]
Em
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
A7
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
C G6
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 1]
G Em
You think you've lost your love
Bm D
Well I saw her yesterday
G Em
It's you she's thinking of
Bm D
And she told me what to say
[Chorus]
G
She says she loves you
Em
And you know that can't be bad
Cm
Yes she loves you
D
And you know you should be glad
[Verse 2]
G Em
She said you hurt her so
Bm D
She almost lost her mind
G Em
But now she says she knows
Bm D
You're not the hurting kind
[Chorus]
G
She says she loves you
Em
And you know that can't be bad
Cm
Yes she loves you
D
And you know you should be glad
[Post-chorus]
Em
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
A7
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
Cm N.C.
With a love like that
D G
You know you should be glad
[Verse 3]
G Em
You know it's up to you
Bm D
I think it's only fair
G Em
Pride can hurt you too
Bm D
Apologize to her
[Chorus]
G
Because she loves you
Em
And you know that can't be bad
Cm
Yes she loves you
D
And you know you should be glad
[Post-сhorus]
Em
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
A7
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
Cm N.C.
With a love like that
D G G/F# Em
You know you should be glad
[Coda]
Cm N.C.
With a love like that
D7 G G/F# Em
You know you should be glad
Cm N.C.
With a love like that
D7 N.C. G G/F#
You know you should ... be glad
Em6
Yeah, yeah, yeah
C G6
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
||||
2. |
A Hard Day's Night
02:50
|
|||
It's been a hard day's night
And I've been workin' like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleepin' like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright
You know I work all day
To get you money to buy you things
And it's worth it just to hear you say
You're gonna give me everything
So why on Earth should I moan?
'Cause when I get you alone
You know I feel okay
When I'm home
Everything seems to be right
When I'm home
Feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah
It's been a hard day's night
And I've been workin' like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleepin' like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright, ow
So why on Earth should I moan?
'Cause when I get you alone
You know I feel okay
When I'm home
Everything seems to be right
When I'm home
Feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah
Oh, it's been a hard day's night
And I've been workin' like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleepin' like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright
You know I feel alright
You know I feel alright
|
||||
3. |
Beat Music
06:38
|
|||
Once upon a time there was darkness. The repeated
hitting of a metallic object: at first without
rhythm, then attaining rhyt2hm. A train-rhythmic bell-
beat of hard docky places.
“Beat music. Music of the beaten. Only we weren’t
beaten. We beat. Where are we going fellers?”
“To the top, Johnny, to the top.”
“And where’s that fellers?”
“To the toppermost of the poppermost.”
The beat was seized from the heart of darkness and
brought in chains down rivers of blood. It came back
to haunt the harbours of Slave City. It was unloaded
in the cargoes. It broke out of caverns and
warehouses, out of steel and stone, off wharfs and
docksides, out of ships from America. It scraped its
feet across concrete. It ran wild in young bloods and
cool cats in the corridors and cul-de-sacs of
Liverpool...
“We quarried the beat from metal and stone.”
“We called ourselves the Quarrymen.”
“We hammered it into life and shape.”
“We called it - The Beat-alls.”
When George joins, they start going places, like the
Oasis Club Manchester. When Ringo joins, they start
rocking the world. Whoops of joy in 4 part harmony. 3 cool cat choir. Cavernous drum. Great clunking guitar solos. A HAND FULL OF PERFECT NOTES.
Holding hands that wash
dishes, hands that cup faces. Hands flung at
diamonds, hands ringed with dreams, shake-it-up baby
faces, sweet little teens. Anything that you want.
We. Can. Do!
Peterborough
"The exciting Beatles rock group quite frankly failed to excite me. The drummer apparently thought his job was to lead, not to provide rhythm. He made for too much noice and in their final number 'Twist and Shout' it sounded as if everyone was trying to make more noise than the others. In a more mellow mood, their 'A Tate of Honey' was much better and "Love Me Do' was tolerable.
Abergavenny, Aston, Middlesborough, Newcastle, Leeds,
Norwich, Great Yarmouth, London...
“Doesn’t it worry you that teenagers are imitating
you by wearing Beatle wigs?”
They’re not imitating us because we don’t wear Beatle
wigs.
Paris...
“John, the French haven’t made up their minds about
the Beatles yet. What do you think of them?”
“Oh, we like the Beatles. They’re gear.”
New York, San Francisco, Sydney...
Nice feller Sidney.
Detroit….
“John, there is a Stamp Out The Beatles movement
under way in Detroit. What you going to do about it?”
“We have a plan to stamp out Detroit.”
Dallas.
"John aren't you ever afraid of getting shot."
"More so in Dallas than other places..."
Beatlepus Rex. The Fab Force. Conquering the planet. Saving the city. And getting the girl.
Everywhere. For three screaming years...
Even Nowhere.
|
||||
4. |
||||
I think I'm gonna be sad
I think it's today, yeah
The girl that's driving me mad
Is going away
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care
She said that living with me
Is bringing her down, yeah
She would never be free
When I was around
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care
I don't know why she's riding so high
She ought to think twice
She ought to do right by me
Before she gets to saying goodbye
She ought to think twice
She ought to do right by me
I think I'm gonna be sad
I think it's today, yeah
The girl that's driving me mad
Is going away, yeah
Ah, she's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care
I don't know why she's riding so high
She ought to think twice
She ought to do right by me
Before she gets to saying goodbye
She ought to think twice
She ought to do right by me
She said that living with me
Is bringing her down, yeah
She would never be free
When I was around
Ah, she's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care
My baby don't care
My baby don't care
My baby don't care
My baby don't care
My baby don't care
My baby don't care
|
||||
5. |
1966
01:38
|
|||
“We won the war- in 1966!”
My Welsh mum beamed in the red-hatted sun,
Commanding me to hoist The Flag upon
Our council pebbledash, porch and privets,
The Somerset exile in which she lived:
And we'd all died, she piped, when that German
Last ditch never-was-a-free-kick spun
Off Cohen's knee and fell to tricksy Fritz.
It was The Victor'snever ending tale
Of under-doggéd gung-ho Beat-all Brits -
Each Daily written off by Mother’s Mail -
Moore, Peters, Hurst, Banks, Stiles, Charlton, Wilson,
Cohen, Hunt, Ball, refashioned as Hendrix,
A mini-short beauty born to die young.
|
||||
6. |
Half God, Half Nelson
04:37
|
|
||
Our Admiral’s head it has one eye
Heave away! Heave away!
His empty sleeve’s the flag we fly.
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
He hunted polar bears, the lad
Heave away! Heave away!
‘To fetch a white rug to my dad.’
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Mosquitoes bit him half to death:
Heave away! Heave away!
‘I’ll die a hero’s life instead’
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Heave away Horatio’s boys
Heave away! Heave away!
Heave away and make a Victory noise
We're gone tomorrow but we're here today.
Off Corsica, his eye foresworn,
Heave away! Heave away!
‘I got a little hurt this morn.’
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Off Cape St Vincent, breaking ranks,
Heave away! Heave away!
He won the day and England’s thanks.
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Our king’s right hand at Santa Cruz;
Heave away! Heave away!
A night to seize; an arm to lose.
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Heave away Horatio’s boys
Heave away! Heave away!
Heave away and make a Victory noise
We're gone tomorrow but we're here today.
‘A peerage or Westminster crypt!’
Heave away! Heave away!
He sinks the French from here to Egypt
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
‘You’ll discontinue!’ flagged his Admiral.
Heave away! Heave away!
‘My blind eye does not see your signal!’
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
‘Redoubtable’ sharpshooters spy him
Heave away! Heave away!
‘They’ve done for me at last. I’m dying.’
‘Tell my wife I’m killed,’ we say.
Heave away Horatio’s boys
Heave away! Heave away!
Heave away and make a Victory noise
We're gone tomorrow but we're here today.
Heave away Horatio’s boys
Heave away! Heave away!
Heave away and make a Victory noise
We're heroes tomorrow but we're gone today.
|
||||
7. |
||||
8. |
||||
E Bm F#m C#m F#7
Wednesday morning at five o'clock as the day begins
F#m7/B B9
Silently closing her bedroom door
F#m7/B B9
Leaving the note that she hoped would say more
E Bm F#m C#m F#7
She goes downstairs to the kitchen clutching a handkerchief
F#m7/B B9
Quietly turning the backdoor key
F#m7/B B9
Stepping outside she is free
[Chorus]
E
She (We gave her most of our lives.)
E
Is leaving (Sacrificed most of our lives.)
E Bm6
Home (We gave her everything money could ^ ^ ^
C#m F#7 C#m F#7
She's leaving home after living alone for so many years
buy
[Verse]
E Bm F#m C#m F#7
Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown,
F#m7/B B9
Picks up the letter that's lying there.
F#m7/B B9
Standing alone at the top of the stairs,
E Bm F#m C#m F#7
She breaks down and cries to her husband "Daddy our baby's gone!"
F#m7/B B9
Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly?
F#m7/B B9
How could she do this to me?
[Chorus]
E
She (We never thought of ourselves.)
E
Is leaving (Never a thought for ourselves.)
E Bm6
Home (We struggled hard all our lives to get ^ ^ ^
C#m F#7 C#m F#7
She's leaving home after living alone for so many years
by
[Verse]
E Bm F#m C#m F#7
Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away
F#m7/B B9
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
F#m7/B B9
Meeting a man from the motor trade
[Chorus]
E
She (What did we do that was wrong?)
E
Is having (We didn't know it was wrong.)
E Bm6
Fun (Fun is the one thing that money can't
C#m F#7 C#m F#7
Something inside that was always denied for so many years
buy
CODA
C#m7 F# A E
She's leaving home (bye bye)
|
||||
9. |
||||
See the cover now, through my NHS Lennonist lens. It captures the landmark moment they gave us the word and we finally heard. The gay colours; the sumptuous costumes; the irreverent majesty. The moment Cinders got to the ball and became Lucy. In the Sky. With Diamonds. The moment khaki became satin; Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali; Van became the Man; frogs became princes; pumpkins turned to bubble cars; guitars became wands; school became art school; Satan became Santa; guns became flowers; Colonel Blimp’s lightning flash of manoeuvres above Salisbury Plain reflected in my bedroom window became the marmalade skies of Sergeant Pepper’s love Goons; the artiste/artisan became the artist; George Eastham became George Best; the Black GI wielding his Master’s axe became Jimi Hendrix; the Stone Age came in colours; Brian Epstein came as Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; the Hollies became King Midas (on their way to becoming Crosby, Stills, Nash and Jung); the Wurzels became Jeff Beck; the council estate got through the generation gap in the barbed wire and up up and into the Milky Way, heading like that “they think it’s all over, it is now” Geoff Hurst counter-attack over the Gates and into Heeeeeevennnnn!.
We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
We hope you have enjoyed the show
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
We're sorry but it's time to go
Sgt. Pepper's lonely, Sgt. Pepper's lonely
Sgt. Pepper's lonely, Sgt. Pepper's lonely
[Verse 2]
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
We'd like to thank you once again
Sgt. Pepper's one and only Lonely Hearts Club Band
It's getting very near the end
Sgt. Pepper's lonely, Sgt. Pepper's lonely
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
(Woo)
And the spoof lyrics at the end
He's Sergeant Spectre's lonely rubber soul
A real McCoyntney Lennon lens
Sergeant Spectre's lonely rubber soul
The Beatles are his only friends.
Sergeant Spectre's lonely rubber soul
His sister's waving round the bend
Sergeant Spectre's one and only lonely rubber soul
She's never coming home again.
|
||||
10. |
|
|||
I am he as you are he as you are me
And we are all together
See how they run like pigs from a gun
See how they fly
I'm crying
Sitting on a corn flake
Waiting for the van to come
Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday
Man you've been a naughty boy
You let your face grow long
I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob
Mister City policeman sitting
Pretty little policemen in a row
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run
I'm crying, I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying
Yellow matter custard
Dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess
Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down
I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob
Sitting in an English garden
Waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come you get a tan
From standing in the English rain
I am the egg man (now good sir)
They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)
Expert, texpert choking smokers
Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah)
See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide
I'm crying
Semolina Pilchard
Climbing up the Eiffel tower
Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe
I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo
Joob, joob, jooba
Jooba, jooba, jooba
Joob, jooba
Joob, jooba
Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba)
Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)
Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)
(from 'King Lear') O untimely death
I know thee well
A serviceable villain, as duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire
What, is is he dead?
Sit you down, Father, rest you
|
||||
11. |
Glass Onion
02:14
|
|
||
I told you about Strawberry Fields
You know the place where nothing is real
Well, here's another place you can go
Where everything flows
Looking through the bent back tulips
To see how the other half lives
Looking through a glass onion
I told you about the walrus and me, man
You know that we're as close as can be, man
Well, here's another clue for you all
The walrus was Paul
Standing on the cast iron shore, yeah
Lady Madonna trying to make ends meet, yeah
Looking through a glass onion
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Looking through a glass onion
I told you about the fool on the hill
I tell you, man, he's living there still
Well, here's another place you can be
Listen to me
Fixing a hole in the ocean
Trying to make a dovetail joint, yeah
Looking through a glass onion
|
||||
12. |
||||
Standing at the dock in Hunstanton
Trying to get to Sheringham Sands
The man at the back said
You’ll need a big mac,
It’s hissing down with rain on the strands.
Crabs! You know it ain’t easy
You know how hard it can be,
The way things are going
We’re going to Chelsea on Sea.
Hired a boat to Burnham Upmarket
Kensington on Overy Staithe.
The nob with the beard said
‘Decidedly weird,
The Chablis here don’t make any waves.’
Crabs! You know it ain’t easy.
You know how hard it can be,
The way things are going,
We’re going to Chelsea on Sea.
Saving up your money for a Cromer crab,
Fish n chips au Hotel de Paris,
I don't like the toffs but they know how to nosh
It's the Wine and Duck at Stanner for me
Lads! You can't sup the barley.
(though you can in an exceptional year)
It's strictly for the birds and the beasts.
(good luck with the ghost village)
But what's sauce for the gander,
(down the bolt hole, what!)
We’re going to Chelsea on Sea.
(did you know that half of the people settled in Norfolk come from somewhere else)
What's sauce for the gander,
(Yeah and the other half are here on holiday)
We’re going to Chelsea on Sea.
(bye!)
|
||||
13. |
Come Together
02:56
|
|
||
Here come old flat top
He come grooving up slowly
He got joo joo eyeball
He one holy roller
He got hair down to his knee
Got to be a joker he just do what he please
He wear no shoe shine
He got toe jam football
He got monkey finger
He shoot Coca-Cola
He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free
Come together, right now, over me
He bag production
He got walrus gumboot
He got Ono sideboard
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee
Hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease
Come together, right now, over me
He roller coaster
He got early warning
He got muddy water
He one mojo filter
He say, "one and one and one is three"
Got to be good looking 'cause he's so hard to see
Come together, right now, over me
Oh
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Oh
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
|
||||
14. |
The End
08:52
|
|||
April 10, 1970. I am coming back from my hospital paper round at the end of Abbey Road, exhausted as usual. I look in that Mirror I deliver to most of the neighbours and the headline is something about the Beatles which always cheers me up but then I look again and it’s Paul’s ex-Beatle pout and the headline is PAUL QUITS THE BEATLES.
*
“A face as long as a coffin, James. What’s up?”
I show her the paper.
“Oh. So the dream is over.”
“NO!”
But she’s right. It’s the Seventies. A bucket of cold water over her Sixties bed. Paul’s lyrics stop meaning anything. John cuts off a decade of Beatle growth, gets a short, back and B sides, and stops being funny. England lose the World Cup. Wales never have it. Pan’s People become Legs and Co. The Stones emigrate. Legs disappear. The Mersey Sound and the Internationale become Standard English and National Service. Jesus Christ Superstar becomes Andrew Lloyd Weber.
All You Need Is Love becomes The Me Decade.
“If that’s what happens when we wake up, what’s the point? There’s no magic, no cuddle, no love, nothing. Cindy, the dream’s not over if we still want it.”
“Oh spare me the Lennonisms, please! I’m not your Mother!”
The news was full of it. “We can’t stay Boys forever. We gave you a three cool cat choir, great clunking guitar solos and a Cavernous drum.
We gave you the perfect two minute pop-song. We gave you the perfect four minute rock movement. We gave you heart-winged mind games, melodic bass lines, backward drum fills, a hand full of perfect notes.
We gave you The Inner Light Programme and the Get Back Home Service. We gave you intergalactic hippy tribute bands from Oldham.
We gave you that Something you never realised you had. We gave you all those home-yearning bittersweet harmonies, that Apple-taste of a lost Eden.
We gave you heart, mind, body and soul for ten years. You’ve got your telly and your own house and car and garage. Harold’s in his office. Ann Jones won Wimbledon. England won the World Cup. What more do you want?”
And Cindy breaks down and cries. Because instead of all she ever wanted, and all he told us – with such aching conviction – was all we needed – Love… He. Is leaving. Her. To the Fabless 70s. Clutching a pair of Beatle nylons and the crumpled flowers of a dream. She cries for her lost innocence, her lost girlhood. She’s grown up with Him you see...
At the end of Abbey Road was a crossroads. John turned left; Paul turned right; Ringo turned back and George...kept going.
Still, the Walrus wasn’t quite dead. Lennon-McCartney wrote some of the most revolutionary music ever written. And the happiest. And, with Harrison, the loveliest. Love as a political liberation (“say the word and you’ll be free”), love as personal revelation (“the movement you need is on your shoulder”) love as a mystical force (“with our love we could save the world”.) It was the blissful fusion of opposites, counter-parts and unexpected wholes to fill the Albert Hall. Upbeat sad short-story Paul the most supreme melodist but downbeat poet rasping rocker John the composer of the great three part harmonies (This Boy; Yes It Is; Because.) George doing them both (and Frank Sinatra in the process) with Something. And, being Love’s music, it plays on from heart to heart, and each new generation catches it and sings along. It was rock n roll, the heartbeat of the Sixties, the catchiest art music ever. It did not set out to be Shakespeare. But then neither did Shakespeare. It was beat music with a Grammar School education. When Sinatra takes his trilby off to it – the “greatest love song” of his well fifty years – and he sang a few - you know they had that Something She didn’t even know She had until He Held Her Hand and told her.
This incurable Beatlemaniac never stopped hoping Cindy would turn up at my door, just as I never stop hoping she'll come to one of these shows. (Not today.) But in the end (along with the love you take being equal to the love you make) I have learned to Let It Be. Johnny went West and Cindy went East and and maybe She ( and Love) is still there. The world is full of heartache but the radio is full of love songs. A blackbird sings in the madhouse grounds, heart overflowing in the evening quiet. Imagine it’s Eden because oh boy when that bird sings, it really is.
The End
|
||||
15. |
||||
I am not
sure
if Love speaks
more in the silence
or my rage
at the age's
spirit of violence
but in the echo
of atlantic fury
you fell
silent
new york
exploding
unholy smoke
in your wide open heart
and for a bad moment
dear john
i am lost again
|
||||
16. |
||||
Love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love, love
There's nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy
Nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time
It's easy
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
Love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love, love
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
Love is all you need (love is all you need)
(Love is all you need)
Yesterday (love is all you need)
Whoa
Love is all you need
Love is all you need (oh yeah)
Love is all you need
(She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Love is all you need)
(Love is all you need...)
Oh yeah, all right
Are you going to be in my dreams
Tonight?
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make
|
Peacock's Tale Musical Storytelling Sedgeford, UK
It's all right, folks, we're married. A marriage of melody and rhythm ( flirting with harmony & timbre.) Old married woke
folk, indie, Norfolk noir, beat poems, ghazals & Americana for the world from NW Norfolk. Maz lead & harmony vocals, acoustic guitar. Gaz lead & harmony vocals, drum & bass. Traditional tunes with contemporary beats.
garethcalway.blogspot.com/p/doin-different.html
... more
Contact Peacock's Tale Musical Storytelling
Streaming and Download help
If you like Peacock's Tale Musical Storytelling, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp