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Skyclad - Any Old Irony? Lyrics

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  • At the vanguard of a juddering caravan,
  • hurriedly galloping down a dirt-track.
  • Six furtive figures, crooked as Caliban;
  • Smuggling hope to the land of the claque.
  • Weary, hoarse-riders; irksomely blistered.
  • Spent from a decade a-roving the road.
  • Frigging a jig for our brothers and sisters;
  • Stark-raving-madrigals by the cartload.
  • Without trepidation I sing in laudation;
  • Vocal salute to all travelling tinkers.
  • Vagabond nation joined in congregation.
  • United free-thinkers cry from the bryony;
  • "Any old irony?!"
  • Chorus:
  • Come one, come all to our travelling circus;
  • Cast-off your cares for the painted parade.
  • Whirl down the wynd like dervish-berserkers;
  • If life hands us lemons; we'll make lemonade.
  • Maybe Jay's smashed (?), drumming up passion;
  • Scarring forever with each brisk tattoo
  • Bean's in the place so bass is in fashion,
  • killing us all with his amp set on 2.
  • Watch out for Ridley The Raucously Tiddly,
  • Unplugged he's no Dr. Jekyll....so Hyde!
  • Desperate-Dan-Ramsey; deft fingers diddle.
  • Watching The Match on a telly stage-side.
  • The cat on the fiddle, Miss Georgie Biddle;
  • Keeping it reeling with her fugue electric.
  • Stuck in the middle I'll rhyme you a riddle;
  • Irate and eclectic my cry from the bryony;
  • "Any old irony?!"
  • Chorus:
  • Come one, come all to our travelling circus;
  • Cast-off your cares for the painted parade.
  • Whirl down the wynd like dervish-berserkers;
  • If life hands us lemons; we'll make lemonade

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