ZANG TUUMB TUM DISCOGRAPHY “…or the imagination”

Knackers yard blues


Beauty got the bit between her teeth
Fashioned in the colour of white heat, work of Mr Blacksmiths
Beauty’s bit is hammered from a round of silver bullets
The liquid molten bubbled in the mould, the sounding anvil rang out cold

Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Kling klang
Bang

I’ll make a magic one whilst I’m at it
Take those bullets from the mantel
Make a bit for the bridle
Why don’t I

Knackers yard blues
Blue Black Beauty at the knacker’s yard, singing knacker’s yard blues
There’s nothing out there on my pony
Nothing to go chasing after dark
And you can’t shoot the horse with a bit made of magic bullets between its teeth
Bullets between its teeth

If you hear ‘bad pony’, there’s a spell on you
When you hear ‘bad pony’ the tables are eschew
You’re looking down the wrong end of the gun powdered cue

Your balls are in his pocket
You can bite the bullet, but if it isn’t magic
But if it isn’t magic then what you going to do

You’re a bad pony
You’re the bad pony
You’re the bad pony and no one’s going to bet on you

Sing the knacker’s yard blues
Sing knacker’s yard blues
Blue Black Beauty at the knacker’s yard
Blue Black Beauty