Stevie McCabe words

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U VW X Y Z

MADE TO DIE
I'm a real operator in a high-class joint
All the operators offer me a joint
But I was made - made - made to die
Made of suffering an' lies

All the operators think that they know better
But I'm a wild-eyed Mother with a big Baretta
(that is one bug- eyed brother!)
M-m-m-made - made - made to die
Made of suffering an' lies

I wuz made outta skin - made outta bone;
Made from the leftovers of Bugsy Malone.
Torn from the Earth - ripp'd from the sky
Made to live - made to die...

All you cats an' all o' you guys
Better get out of my way or prepare to die!
Die-ie-ie-ie-ie-ie-ie-ie etc.

THE MAN IN THE MOOD

He's always so darned happy
He's always feelin' good
He's in the frame of mind for loving
Even when he's chopping wood
He's always glad to help
He'd give you his last piece of food -
That's why they call him
The Man in the Mood
He's always got his Tux on,
He's dancin' at the drop of a hat
He's always goin' to Tucson
For a hot cuppa coffee an' a nice long chat
And when the lights go down
you know he'll make his date feel good
That's why they call him
The Man in the Mood

A MAN O' SUBSTANCE
He's a man of substance, hair, skin & fibre
Organ's that play up like hearts on fire
A sense primed with wit, like Sherlock Holmes' rival
Overwhelmed with his huge sense of desire
What a fire, goodness knows, don't start a fight
Who wants to fight while you can still dance
Take it all the way, take it up to the wire
He really is a man of substance.

MANA MACHINE

Walkin', talkin' mana machine,
He's hot when it really counts
Like a brother or a mother, whatever you are,
Ya gotta hit 'em where it really smarts!

Like a lion in a cage, he's a mana machine
With an awesome line of patter, he's hot
Got a caviar hunger on a bread & butter buget
Got the mana of a martyr, that's what.

Physical egress of a manic cowboy,
Polarised by mute expressions of joy
He's every mother's dreamboat, he's a Tower of strength,
Like a real - live mother's boy!

If you caught him on a good day, he's 10-ft tall
If you catch him on a bad day he's not
Mana like that don't grow on trees y'know
Nor either is it underfoot.

You gotta hand it to him, it's a must-see, must do
If you aint already done it, go now!
Forever hold your peace if you don't wanna speak up
Give him dues, like a holy cow!

MY MASSACHUSETTS BABY
My Massachusetts baby sent me away
So I could cry cry cry
Like Robert Cray Cray Cray
Them blues will come an' get you if you let 'em -
Even in the 7-11
The catfish got up an' walked -
The Walkin' fish got up an' jumped
An' now I's all jumped up
I's wild and heady an' humped
Pumpin' iron like a child
Run like a lady on heels
I'm on a Greyhound to Hell,
I like my meals on wheels!
Massachusetts baby, You are drivin' me crazy, its
Constitutionally wrong,
This Emotional prong
That you're drivin though my heart
Like a Kraftwerk song!

MICHAEL'S CANE
Michael had a cane, it was white as a ghost
And when it came to cane pain, he could give the most
He would give it his all, he had to have the best
He had a cupboardful of canes that never passed the test
Whippin' 'em good he would lick 'em like fire
You could hardly even see him move!
Whackin' like Wacko on his one-armed bandit
Get that cane right in the groove
With his cane he is able to deftly deflect
A fly off a light at ten paces
You gotta give him his dues, give him some respect
His cane-skills take him all kinds of places

MING'S CHINA SHOP

Ming had a China shop and on the side
He specialised in Rhinoplasty
One day he had a mix-up and enamelled his nose
Boy did that Ming die nasty
Three pensioners were there on that fateful eve
They witnessed the whole thing with no fright
When asked why they were fearless at this horrid scene
They said "Thursday is our Ming-go Night!"

MINI-SERIES KILLER
Mini-series killer, yer a serial killer
Over seven gripping episodes on consecutive nights!
Yer like a macabre prime-time hybrid Kotter slash Barney Miller
An' you wait up each eve to see your name up in lights
Every sodding evening you're there, up till all hours
Watching re-runs of your crimes, like a real-life CrimeWatch
But by day you stalk for real, this aint no show that yer re-living
This is real, it's the streets, man, time to take another swatch!
Mini-series killer, you're a living legend
Could I please have your autograph?
Please, Mister killer, You can write it on my pillow!
You don't know what you're up against!

MOONLIGHT AND VERMOUTH
Goodnight my love, goodnite darling
Give it t'me straight, once more, but with feeling
Just once before I had this feeling, in truth
Just once I had moonlight and dry Vermouth
So one more time remind me darling
Of what it really feels like
To be soaked in wine an' whiskey
An' I'll tell you if it feels right
I feel good in the sense that I don't feel bad
I feel more like myself than myself
But the day must come when I bid you adieu
With a moonlight toast and Vermouth

MR ERASMUS JONES
You me, body and soldering iron,
Heart, head and parcel of bones
And I can't respect you ever again
Mr Erasmus Jones
When he was off on the black noise
Not one could understand him
It was just as much as any could do
To just rope him up and brand 'im
Broke off all agreements with his landlord
While holding a reasonable tenancy
As a tenant, he was outstanding, fine
But for his irrational tendencies
For surely no man should piece together
What a god has thrown asunder
The fallacy inherent in doing this act is
The most monumental of blunders.

(PLEASE) MR MURAKAMI
Please Mr Murakami
I'm oversensitized - can't you sense it in my eyes
Ogling the mole on the back of your neck
I can see it in your eyes - so don't stop makin' eyes - at me
Please Mr Murakami
I've got those goosebump-chills up an' down my spine
Sorry I exposed you to a spooky little sense of Deja-vu
I saw it in your eyes - so don't stop makin' eyes - at me
Please Mr Murakami
Give me a Tokyo Rose - like my nose it grows
Every time you tell me Sayonara i just wanna hear
Konichi Wa - Konichi - wa - wa - wa - wa - wa ...
On the corner of the street in every town
Is a Murakami man, if you're feelin' down
If you're not qutie sure, if you need a hand
He's the Murakami man with the Master plan
If you're insecure, if you worry a lot
Just tell him your troubles an' he'll work 'em on out
He's the one-stop shop for your troubles an' ills
He's the Murakami man, he's the king of the hills
Let me be the one, let me take his place
The Murakami man is gonna lose his place
Cos I'm the next in line, the next of kin,
I'm gonna be the best Murakami man there's been
So when you wanna tell your troubles or you need a hand
You wanna talk to someone who's gonna understand
Don't tell me to go, tell me "Bug Off, Man", just let me be your Murakami man

THE MUSEUM

Goin' down to Winnebago
To meet my old Amigo
Drivin' in an ol' Desoto
An' thinkin' of our holiday snaps from Lesotho
Lookin' out for any potholes
Freewheelin', tryin' to get a foothold
Tryin' not to think "Uh-Uh-Oh"
An' drinkin' Margueritas without any alcohol
I'm goin' down for the very first time
An' I just can't wait to see him
Where'm I gonna meet him,
You know I'm gonna meet him
Meetin' him at the Museum
Haven't got a care in the world
Look at me, my brow aint furrowed
Wherever he goes, I'll follow
An' to get there, I'll beg, I'll steal an' I'll burrow
Put some gas in the Desoto
Because it wouldn't make it to Toronto
Better get my foot down pronto
Or I'll get blown away like Dorothy & Toto

MY FROSTY FLOAT

Houseboat boy on the River Thames
Laughed at because of my twang
Some kids got a butchers at my Ritchie Venus
-That's Cockney rhyming slang
(Rock'n'roll singer = sewing machine)
Things are so hard on my little boat
Think I'm gonna die today
Wish someone'd buy me a frosty float
So I could watch it melt away - hey hey hey
I'm so sad with my frosty float
Wish things were great again
I can't live on my own house boat
Because she's gone and left again