Tanqueray & Chrome

Woke up at the crack of noon
And I found the blues was in my blood.
There were sandbags on my levee,
Hooks was draggin’ and my head was fulla mud.
Feelin’ just like Pennsylvania,
Five minutes before the Johnstown flood.

I found the message in the bottle
And I found the body on the beach.
He liquidated all his assets
And died of window-washer’s reach.
There wasn’t room to lay beside him,
And there wasn’t any time to try and preach.

They caught him swimmin’ to the shore,
When he was 20,000 miles away from home.
He thought he was a young Columbus
Searchin’ for the land of Tanqueray & Chrome.
He lit out for Preservation Hall
And ended up inside the Superdome.

So if you’re lookin’ for some heroes,
Better set your ear upon the outlaw trail.
And if you want to churn some butter,
Better go and catch a tiger by the tail;
Chased by some polyester posse
Who just live to hear the sirens wail.

Because when all guitars are outlawed,
Only outlaws will be playin’ their guitars.
Out on the edges of your city,
They’ll be playin’ loud and livin’ in their cars.
But they won’t play no beer commercials,
Sing in videos or piss in any jars.

They’re gonna get you when you’re young
And when you’re hungry and you haven’t got a clue.
They’re gonna kill you in their classroom,
Then they’ll cook you in their mediocre stew.
The GOP and MTV have got
A sparkle in their eye for little you.

I’m goin’ down to Old New Mexico,
I welcome everyone to come along.
Live in the shadow of a mountain,
Singin’ scorpion and iguana songs.
Singin’ praises down the canyon,
Singin’ 27,000 voices strong.

 

“Tanqueray & Chrome” appears on Medicine.


© and ℗ 1990 Marques Bovre


 

An earlier version was called “Monk of Funk” and went something like this:

 

Woke up this afternoon
And I found the blues was in my blood.
Woke up at the crack of noon
And I found the blues was in my blood.
Feelin’ just like Pennsylvania
Five minutes before the Johnstown flood.

Found the message in the bottle
And I found the body on the beach.
Found the message in the bottle,
Lord, I found the body on the beach.
He liquidated all his assets
And died of window-washer’s reach.

So if you’re lookin’ for some heroes,
Just set your ear upon the outlaw trail.
Said if you’re lookin’ for some heroes,
Just set your ear upon the outlaw trail.
Chased by some polyester posse
Who just live to hear them sirens wail.

When I was young and I was hungry
I used to die for southern junk ‘n’ punk.
When I was young and I was hungry
I used to die for southern junk ‘n’ punk.
Then I got struck by Fender lightning,
Now I’m livin’ like a monk of funk.

 

“Monk of Funk” appeared on a 1984 demo titled Felonious Monk.


© and ℗ 1984 Marques Bovre