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  1. Justin Casey (King of the Roadies)
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Lyrics

Justin Casey (King of the Roadies)

Kicked out of me digs, I needed a gig
To pay for drink and strings and cigs
“Must be mad,” said the ad so I sang on the phone
“Not too bad,” said Casey, “We’ll give yiz a go.”

In the back of the van we jammed away
As from oul’ Casey’s gob there sprayed
A stream of advice until we got it right
But we played at a hooley the very next night

With Jack Hammer on drums, Al Fresco on bass
Me on guitar and all over the place
Annie Rexia too - when out of detox
And on vocals the copycat king - Frank Xerox

“Keep it simple,” said Casey’s gravelly voice
As if, mar ea, we had any choice
Sez he, “Sure they’re lucky that we’re here at all
“Like food to the feast is a band to the ball”

Manager, roady, father confessor
As the man said, “Whatever’s required”
Driver, mixer, hard man, jester
With a love of the road - hard wired.

Well under his wing we did many a do
From bikies’ wakes to weddings for whores
From the pubs and stews of Wooloomooloo
To the sweet fragrant air of Tassie’s green shores

And we’d go drinkin’ in the Old Lord Roberts
Sayin’, “Another won’t do any harm
“We’re getting by on a whim and a prayer
“And we’re never goin’ back to the farm.”

“Too loud,” Casey’d scream, apoplectic,
“There’s no such words,” he’d spit
“Contained in rock’s dialectic
“You’ll take it loud and like it, no shit!”

Now like an oul’ rocker he sits on the porch
His health is a shocker and not like before
But here’s glint in his eye and the stories are grand
Of the right royal rollickin’ ride
When Casey was leadin’ the band

And we’d go drinkin’ in the Old Lord Roberts
Sayin’, “Another won’t do any harm
“We’re getting by on a whim and a prayer
“And we’re never goin’ back to the farm.”

© Des Wade 2017