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The Lonesome / Gregarious Cowboy
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(Many thanks to Bec for the pre-Fegh-Maha version of these lyrics).
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Yon:
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We've moved into a whole new genre of song-writing, and that is the story-telling genre.
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Scod:
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Yeah.
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Yon:
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You know, like your greats - your Bob Dylan, your Paul Kelly, your Brittany Spears.
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(Gatesy takes a drink and spills water on himself. Audience laughter)
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Gatesy:
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Sorry, I have a slack jaw.
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Scod:
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Oh, brilliant, brilliant! Oh, he made water come out of his mouth! It looked like he was dribbling! That was delightful.
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Gatesy:
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Five stars! The man's a genius. Look, he can do it many times, he's not shy.
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But I won't.
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Scod:
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So yes, story-telling genre, this is a bit of a personal favourite of ours and we thought we might give this one a bit of a whirl. This is a bit of a cowboy/Western song and it's set in the Old West and it's kind of about a cowboy, and... ahh... it's got a few little facts in it that we might get around to clarifying...
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Gatesy:
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Yeah... it doesn't... you don't need to know. It's a great song, it's really great music, it's very evocative, you'll love it, love it.
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Scod:
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Great song.
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Tripod:
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Oh-oh-oh,
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Oh-oh-oh-ohhhh...
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Yon and Scod:
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Roh! Roh!
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Gatesy:
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Hee!
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Yon and Scod:
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Roh! Roh!
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Gatesy:
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YAHH!
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Yon and Scod:
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Roh! Roh!
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Gatesy:
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Hee!
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(Gatesy does a pretend whip-cracking action, unapproved of by the others)
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Scod:
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Let me tell a story that was told one time to me,
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By people who had had it told to them.
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Tripod:
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By their fore-fathers...
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Scod:
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... And their four mothers.
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Gatesy:
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It was a little eight person travelling troupe of story-telling parents,
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But that's not the focus of the tale. (Sorry)
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What's important is the story of a stranger,
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Who came riding on his horse...
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Tripod:
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... On a dusty trail.
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Yon:
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He's embellishing by saying that it was a dusty trail,
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But I think it's pretty safe to assume.
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Tripod:
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That the road-building methods of the time,
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Yon:
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Would have been quite crude...
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... To say the least.
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Yon:
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Actually, strictly speaking, to say the least would have been to do this... Yeh.
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Tripod:
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... But you get the idea.
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No one knew where he came from,
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No one knew who he was.
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But presumably his parents and a few childhood chums...
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... Knew him.
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Yon and Scod:
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Roh! Roh!
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Gatesy:
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Hee!
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Yon and Scod:
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Roh! Roh!
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Gatesy:
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(Referring to the whip cracking) YAAH... I won't fucking do it!
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Yon:
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No more!
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Gatesy:
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It's just a little act of mine!
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Scod:
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He rode a horse, a great black steed,
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And Spirit was his name.
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The horse's name, not the bloke.
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The finest gambler in the county,
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He broke all the ladies' hearts...
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... I'm still talking about the horse.
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Tripod:
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The man rode round performing acts that may have broke the law,
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Or angered someone in some other way.
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So subsequently he was inevitably caught up with,
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By some state- or county-appointed figure of authority,
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Or local strong man...
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Gatesy:
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Roooooar!
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Scod:
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(To Gatesy) Or fuckhead.
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Gatesy:
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(To Scod) Unnecessary.
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Tripod:
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... One fateful day...
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... Or night.
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Brought before a judge or jury,
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He may have been put to death.
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Or he may have escaped,
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In some exciting way...
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... Or boring way,
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Like a legal loophole.
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There he goes!
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Riding into the sun,
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He dissolves into a vapour as he nears the burning orb...
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Scod:
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... Or maybe it's just a metaphor.
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(They argue about the possibilities of this for a while, then conclude...)
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Tripod:
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Yes, definitely a metaphor!
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(Gatesy rides his horse while they sing...)
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Tripod:
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Oo-oh-oh,
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Oh-oh-oh-ahhhh...
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(Yon makes various animal and bird sounds in the background)
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Tripod:
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Oo-oh-oh,
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Oh-oh-oh-ahhhh...
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(Yon's animal sounds get more ridiculous)
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(Scod fires a blow dart at Yon and he collapses)
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Tripod:
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YAH!
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