(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
What is the point?
You'll never win.
We're up at your throats
Before you begin.
(CHORUS)
Closing your ears to other men's views,
Change for the good would not bring bad news!
Turning their heads
Away from the crowd,
Turning much further
Than we can allow.
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Why change the rules,
Say those at the top,
To those at the bottom,
Caught looking up.
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Too many bodies
Doubting your worth,
Shout to the people,
Salt of the earth.
(REPEAT CHORUS)
--
"Willow Tree"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
Willow tree wooden, were you once a woman,
Crying forlorn on a bank of a stream
For some tragic loss of a friend or a lover,
Hoping that time will somehow intervene.
Is all that you need just someone to believe,
Stand under your boughs and reach out a hand,
The truth of the hand that touches your leaves,
Release you and end your perpetual stand.
Willow tree wooden, I've watched and I've waited,
Lit both by moonbeam and sun of the day.
Biding my time here, just sitting and thinking,
How many years before you pass away?
(The live recording of this song on Anyway features a different set of verses performed by Roger Chapman. That version goes as follows below.)
Willow tree, I've watched and I've waited,
Crying there forlorn on a bank of a stream
For some tragic loss of a friend or a lover,
Hoping that time will intervene.
Is all that you need just someone to believe,
Stand under your boughs and reach out a hand,
The truth of the hand that touches your leaves,
Without you, all that you are.
Willow tree wooden, I've watched and I've waited,
I've been lit both by moonbeam and sun of the day.
For some tragic loss of a friend or a lover,
Hoping that time will pass away . . ..
--
"Holding The Compass"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
Many a time I'll point to a sign,
Which way to go, maybe I'll know
If the wind doesn't blow the words around,
Whoa, yeah, to different ground.
Whoever you are, just pick out a star
To shine your light, the thing is at night
That the clouds get tight and they fold upon,
Whoa yeah, you tell me where it's gone.
(CHORUS)
Holding the compass ain't the way I've got to roam,
You know it takes me straight home.
But that ain't the way, no, that ain't the way,
Hey, that ain't the way
That I've got to roam.
Computer brain could guide a train
Along its path without help from a guy
Whose prejudiced eye would see the track,
See the track go back.
(REPEAT CHORUS)
(On the live recording of this song on Anyway, Roger Chapman omitted the first verse and sang the second verse twice. On other occasions, such as on television performances, he sang all three verses, but he would sometimes reverse the order of the first two.)
--
"Strange Band" (live version)
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman/John Williamson)
(FIRST VERSE)
Dog and his master, took out together
Heading due west, away from the east,
Walking the road, leading a blind man,
Staff in his hand, and a dog that could see.
Strange looking band were we.
(SECOND VERSE)
Heading due west, away from the east,
Walking the road, leading a blind man,
Staff in his hand, and a dog that could see.
Strange looking band were we.
(SECOND VERSE)
Man and his hubcaps, flashing the highway
Shielding his eyes, from the heat of the sun,
A wife, name of Maisy, who's driving him crazy,
Convertible mind closed permanently.
Strange looking band were we.
(REPEAT FIRST VERSE)
Shielding his eyes, from the heat of the sun,
A wife, name of Maisy, who's driving him crazy,
Convertible mind closed permanently.
Strange looking band were we.
(REPEAT FIRST VERSE)
(REPEAT SECOND VERSE)
(The studio version of "Strange Band," released as the title track of an EP in August 1970, contains an extra verse not included on the live version featured on Anyway. See the non-album tracks lyrics page for the third verse.)
--
"Part Of the Load"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
Got here this morning,
Leaving on Saturday.
Two nights in Boston,
And we're out on the road again,
While part of yourself stays with friends that you've made.
Rolling the highways,
Living the way we do -
Not truck driving men
But only half of the gig's the show,
Makes London to Glasgow seem like down the road, you know,
But we're out on the road,
That's part of the load,
Oh, the load.
Down the road . . . down the road . . .
Down the road . . . down the road . . .
Pull in for dinner,
Home's four thousand miles away,
Write to your lady,
Not knowing quite just what to say.
You only know you never ask her to wait.
Houston in Texas,
Two hundred miles or so.
Last stop for supper
With just one tuna fish to go.
No time to smile, no time to say one small hello,
But we're out on the road,
That's part of the load,
Oh, the load.
--
"Anyway"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
A mist comes o'er the shore, from out the sea's embrace,
The sun just going down the red without a face,
A mist falls on the water through the curtain lace,
Any place.
A white to hurt the eyes stretches the fields afar,
The brightness of the full moon, footprints show where you are,
The snow becomes a mirror for the northern star,
There you are.
Oh, mountains far, your bigness makes me near to you,
And flowers small, your gentleness is how you grew,
But those teardrops on your petals, are they only dew?
Wish I knew.
A man holds tight his lady in the evening glade,
His coat around her shoulders keeps the chill away,
A willow spreads its limbs to make a lover's shade,
Anyway.
--
"Normans"
(Poli Palmer/Charlie Whitney/John Weider)
Instrumental
--
"Lives and Ladies"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
People that you send to war,
Who don't know what they're fighting for,
Leaving their loved ones at home,
Wondering if they're on their own,
Oh, if they're alone.
Mothers and fathers that wait
For news of their innocents' fate,
Raising a son for some years,
Only to end it in tears,
Oh, only to end it in tears.
You being masters of war,
You never knew your fathers, that's for sure.
Just counting the numbers that died
I hope that you're satisfied,
I hope that you're satisfied.
My friend, he's a salesman up in Leicestershire,
His wife and baby love him, to him they're all so dear.
We got talking together about some rights and wrongs,
And just before I left there, I heard him sing this song:
I love my lady and baby,
And I'm sure that you love yours.
We want to care for each other,
That's what we're here for.
Yes, I love my lady and baby,
And I'm sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
We don't need your wars.
My friend he's a tailor up in Leicester town,
He works his own shop there, and I know he's alright now.
He's got his way of thinking and knows that I've got mine
There's mostly only one thing we agree on all the time:
We love our lives and our ladies,
And we're sure that you love yours.
We want to care for each other,
That's what we're here for.
We love our lives and our ladies,
And we're sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
We don't need your wars.
He loves his lady and baby,
And he's sure that you love yours.
They want to care for each other,
That's what they're here for.
He loves his lady and baby,
And he's sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
They don't need your wars.
"Part Of the Load"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
Got here this morning,
Leaving on Saturday.
Two nights in Boston,
And we're out on the road again,
While part of yourself stays with friends that you've made.
Rolling the highways,
Living the way we do -
Not truck driving men
But only half of the gig's the show,
Makes London to Glasgow seem like down the road, you know,
But we're out on the road,
That's part of the load,
Oh, the load.
Down the road . . . down the road . . .
Down the road . . . down the road . . .
Pull in for dinner,
Home's four thousand miles away,
Write to your lady,
Not knowing quite just what to say.
You only know you never ask her to wait.
Houston in Texas,
Two hundred miles or so.
Last stop for supper
With just one tuna fish to go.
No time to smile, no time to say one small hello,
But we're out on the road,
That's part of the load,
Oh, the load.
--
"Anyway"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
A mist comes o'er the shore, from out the sea's embrace,
The sun just going down the red without a face,
A mist falls on the water through the curtain lace,
Any place.
A white to hurt the eyes stretches the fields afar,
The brightness of the full moon, footprints show where you are,
The snow becomes a mirror for the northern star,
There you are.
Oh, mountains far, your bigness makes me near to you,
And flowers small, your gentleness is how you grew,
But those teardrops on your petals, are they only dew?
Wish I knew.
A man holds tight his lady in the evening glade,
His coat around her shoulders keeps the chill away,
A willow spreads its limbs to make a lover's shade,
Anyway.
--
"Normans"
(Poli Palmer/Charlie Whitney/John Weider)
Instrumental
--
"Lives and Ladies"
(Charlie Whitney/Roger Chapman)
People that you send to war,
Who don't know what they're fighting for,
Leaving their loved ones at home,
Wondering if they're on their own,
Oh, if they're alone.
Mothers and fathers that wait
For news of their innocents' fate,
Raising a son for some years,
Only to end it in tears,
Oh, only to end it in tears.
You being masters of war,
You never knew your fathers, that's for sure.
Just counting the numbers that died
I hope that you're satisfied,
I hope that you're satisfied.
My friend, he's a salesman up in Leicestershire,
His wife and baby love him, to him they're all so dear.
We got talking together about some rights and wrongs,
And just before I left there, I heard him sing this song:
I love my lady and baby,
And I'm sure that you love yours.
We want to care for each other,
That's what we're here for.
Yes, I love my lady and baby,
And I'm sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
We don't need your wars.
My friend he's a tailor up in Leicester town,
He works his own shop there, and I know he's alright now.
He's got his way of thinking and knows that I've got mine
There's mostly only one thing we agree on all the time:
We love our lives and our ladies,
And we're sure that you love yours.
We want to care for each other,
That's what we're here for.
We love our lives and our ladies,
And we're sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
We don't need your wars.
He loves his lady and baby,
And he's sure that you love yours.
They want to care for each other,
That's what they're here for.
He loves his lady and baby,
And he's sure that you love yours.
So don't go pulling your switches,
They don't need your wars.
