Get all 7 Flying Tadpole releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Throttle Me a Busker, Ukulele Criminal, Light Duties, Flying Tadpole's Travelling Blues Band, A Childes Garden of Ecologickally Correct Songes, Holidays and Other Disasters, and Irritatin' Katy.
1. |
Light Duties
04:12
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LIGHT DUTIES
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
Left school in ‘84,
Walked into a recession
A job installing Roll-a-Doors
Then secur'ty meshing
Somewhere someone told me
Cops were looking for recruits
So had a shave and cut my hair
And bought two Goodwill suits
Twenty-four months later
I passed out of the Fort
Six-foot four with eyes like pans
I kept up with my sport
An ankle break in ’89
Took me off the road
They put me in behind a desk,
An inbox to offload
That was 'bout the end of it,
Me and my patrols
The plates left in my ankles
Meant invalided roles
Light duties
Light duties
Light duties
Light duties, that’s me
With the coming of computers there was so much less to do
I started writing novels
But deals did NOT come through
Then one day the boss called,
and said we need to talk
It seems that your career, my son,
is at something of a fork
I stood there at attention
Filling out that old door frame
Daniels we’ve read your better stuff
And we’d suggest another game
We need to plan catastrophes
it seems you’re just the man
We want you to imagine
the very worst you can
And then we’ll set our best response
For our next Disaster Plan
So I commenced my new career -
Became Disaster Dan
Light duties x 3
Light duties, that’s me
Pretty soon I saw the worst
in every situation
The kid who brought in coffee was
about to bomb the station
The gardener was a terrorist
Deliveries filled with Semtex
It seemed like shipping Anthrax
was the Only role of Fedex
I lived down by the airport
and every flight I knew
Was loaded up with militants
Who wore exploding shoes
All those days that used to drag
Well, they became quite urgent
And every politician
Was clearly an insurgent
Light duties x 3
Light duties, that’s me
I wrote up possibilities
Of Cabinet infiltration
The Minister then called from me
A favour for the nation
He said "enjoyed your recent stuff
"On thermostatic fission (But we’d)
"Ask you have a think about
"Specific politicians"
Six weeks later seconded
I’m over with the Feds
Clearance? Top Security
No word of mine unread
Now I run the Agency
My office is secure
More than I can say for-th' masses
But nothing’s ever pure
A few I still feel sorry for
Especially in the sticks
(We can) search them now 'n' lock them home
But that’s just politics
So a message now for you at home
Who share my former sit-u-a-tion
Never forget how far y' can get
With some imagination
Light duties
Light duties
Light duties
Light duties, that’s me
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2. |
It
02:08
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IT
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
No less popular tool
In the songwriter's kit
Than a two-letter word
A word they call it
They'll hum and they'll ramble
For a name that will hit
But they'll never gamble
On the word they call it
It's nothing personal
That's what they will say
It's just in this verse'n'all
It's just a bit grey
Even Paul McCartney
On Another Day
Left "it's" from the title
Was it just in the way?
I'd be upset if I were an it
It would be like Harvey Keitel
Playing twelve scenes in Pulp Fiction
With no credits near the title
Perhaps the time is coming
Modern troubadours might fit
A section in their repertoire
A little bit for it
And we'll all finally stand for it
Or perhaps we'll simply see
Gerry and the Pacemakers
wore it out in '63
How Do You Do It?
I Like It
It Happened To Me...
All defined the Mersey Beat
All sold overseas
But there was another Mersey band
And this is all quite true
Passed on How Do You Do It?
And went with Love Me Do.
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3. |
Mechanical Rights
02:43
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MECHANICAL RIGHTS
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
By anyone’s guess
the old man’s shed was a mess
But there was one treasure wrapped up inside
When he passed over,
all the probate and stuff,
We sold his 351 when he died
That 351 was a monster
A Falcon from ‘74
Custom suspension
With marital tension
My dad followed her right out the door
Saw the car on the highway one Saturday
Hand-painted, all strung with spot lights
Had a spit to my mate who’s an ex-magistrate she said
You-should-have mechanical rights
Something about it just got to me;
His car, and all my parents’ old fights
I’d lie there in bed
That line in my head
About those mechanical rights
That 351 was a monster
A Falcon from ‘74
Custom suspension
Familial tension
My dad followed her right out the door
Early one morning I saw her,
still running, outside of a bar
Just before dawn that big engine so warm
Dad’s love was a getaway car
I took a shortcut through the drive-through
Took a quick look at the till
Two men - one pistol, one garden-stake;
One attendant demonstrably ill
Something about it just got to me
So I stood up there in his sights...
I lay there and bled That line through my head:
You-should-have-had mechanical rights
You-should-have-had mechanical rights
Yes for sure, my mechanical rights.
______________________________
[ORIGINAL LYRIC]
By anyone’s guess
the old man’s shed was a mess
But there was one treasure wrapped up inside
When he passed over,
all the probate and stuff,
We sold his 351 when he died
That 351 was a monster
Falcon from ‘74
Custom suspension
With marital tension
My dad followed her right out the door
Saw the car on the highway one Saturday
Hand-painted,
all strung with spot lights
Had a spit to my mate
who’s an ex-magistrate
She said you should have mechanical rights
You should have mechanical rights
Something about it just got to me;
His car,
and all my parents’ old fights
I’d lie there in bed
That line in my head
About those mechanical rights
That 351 was a monster
A Falcon from ‘74
Custom suspension
Familial tension
My dad followed her right out the door
Early one morning I saw her, still running,
left outside of a bar
Just before dawn
That big engine so warm
Dad’s great love was a getaway car
I took a shortcut
through the drive-through
Took a quick look at the till
Two men - one pistol, one garden-stake;
One attendant demonstrably ill
Something about it just got to me
As I stood up there in his sights
I lay there and bled
That line through my head:
You should have mechanical rights
Yes for sure,
I seek my mechanical rights.
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4. |
We Were Careful
02:29
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WE WERE CAREFUL
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
We kept the kids indoors last year
We kept them in their rooms
Conducted education with
Facebook, dodgy Zooms
But all the time we taught them
We saw the main contribution
To all the success, All the passed tests
Comes down to the right institution
Now one of them's a surgeon
And one has a law degree
The oldest's won the Nobel Prize
The youngest's done all three
As parents we were careful
That our kids had all the best
We discovered online courses
And soon our lives were blessed
Universities in Tombola
Academies on Mars
Lecture notes from Neptune
Mentors beamed from stars
Now one of them's a surgeon
One has a law degree
The oldest's won the Nobel Prize
The youngest's done all three
[INSTR]
Now one of them's a surgeon
One has a law degree
The oldest's won the Nobel Prize
The youngest's done all three
You’re welcome to our secret
It’s clear before the nation
The key to success, wealth, happiness?
Just buy,
Just buy their qualifications.
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5. |
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DEAR BETTY: re. DEAR JOHN
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
Dear Betty,
I haven’t written for a while,
Must apologise,
We’ve been busy as one-armed bricklayers
Would not believe your eyes
I know you’ve got your work cut out,
I’ll keep it short, and then I’m off
But down here in Australia, Bett,
We’ve all had a gutsful of Gough
VERSE 1
Now I understand that you’re the Queen,
With better things to do,
And he could save us all some work
If he’d just piss-off, shoot through
But he can’t get it through that scone of his,
He’s made some dreadful blues
Gough needs the Don’t Come Monday
And that needs to come from you
CHORUS
Jeez don’t I know it’s a terrible show
Full of things we’ll always regret
But the line he won’t toe
Gough’s gotta go
And that’s gotta come from you, Bett, Bett,
The line he won’t toe
Gough’s gotta go
That's gotta come from you, Bett,
Bett, you bet
VERSE 2
He’s got some mates in the Emirates
Started a hell of a Barney...
Just got on the phone, teed up a loan
With a bludger called Khemlani
Anyhow Australia won’t forget you Bett
You’ve been a damned good Queen to us
Perhaps you could call him to London
Perhaps ease him under a bus?
CHORUS
Jeez don’t I know it’s a terrible show
Full of things we’ll always regret
But the line he won’t toe
Gough’s gotta go
And that’s gotta come from you, Bett, Bett,
The line he won’t toe
Gough’s gotta go
That's gotta come from you, Bett,
Bett, you bet
VERSE 3 half instrumental
I don't know why you haven't grabbed the phone Bett
And done my dirty work for me
You're failing in your queenly duty
I need, I want it done, can't you see?
TWISTED CHORUS
Jeez I don’t know it was a terrible show
And the push I’ll always regret
But Mal's line he wouldn’t toe
Gough just had to go
But you didn't help me out, Bett, Bett,
Mal's line he wouldn’t toe
Gough just had to go
But you didn't help me out, Bett, Bett,
You didn't help me out, dead set,
That's why >>I << shoved Gough off the cliff,
Bett, Bett, you bet.
EXTRO RECIT
“Just thinking back about things, Bett
And things down here could be better
Would you mind ducking down to the Mail Room,
And burning my previous letters?“
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6. |
Details (So Many Times)
05:10
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DETAILS (SO MANY TIMES)
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
I’m just here to grab some details
Here to write things down
Here to write things up
Maybe
Perhaps just make a sound
So many times
So many times
So many times
You just had things
I don’t think of X-Rays now
Nor what of you might be
I don’t think of best ways out
Or what that means to me
So many times
So many times
So many times
You just had things
If I could pray, I’d pray for you
Pray that God could see
But maybe He’s redundant
Maybe he’s just Me
Maybe He’s redundant
Maybe he’s just Me
So many times
So many times
So many times
You just had things
I wish you something more, my friend
I wish you oxygen
I wish you passage to your dream
I wish, I wish your hurt to mend
So many times
So many times
so many times
You just had things,
So many times
So many times
so many times
You just had things.
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7. |
The Call
06:04
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THE CALL
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
This is all my privilege
Which is all my fault
This is all gross leverage
This is my owning the bolt
How can I stay sorry?
How can I repent?
How can I excuse the wrongs
Of thoughts unspent?
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
INSTR BRIDGE
To all those people in the world
Who never made mistakes
You've got it all now, well done you
Life! No second takes
You're clearly the majority
The ninety-nine point nine
Never chose the wrong road
Never picked up the wrong wine
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply, simply de-arranged
We'd all like to spend the night together
We'd all like to feel so much less alone
We'd all really like to change the weather
But first for our breath we'll atone
I was a kid in a motel room
My mother just stepped out the door
Waiting on a doorbell,
I took out a small Bible
Gideons had left there in the drawer
Something inside just grabbed me.
Matthew 7: in that book
Young at that stage
I was all over the page
Could a phrase be all that it took?
What that stuff what was it about,
Something about eyes, specks and logs?
Jug and you'll be Jughead
Fleas getting back up with dogs?
INSTR BRIDGE
Am I Right on this
Or am I solid Left?
Do I have the right ideas
Or am I simply deaf?
Am I Right on this
Or am I solid Left?
Do I have the right ideas
Or am I simply deaf?
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply de-arranged
I'm calling myself out
I'm calling myself strange
I'm calling my self-doubt
I'm simply, simply de-arranged
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8. |
Cooking for One
04:16
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COOKING FOR ONE
by Andrew Male & Tim Fatchen
Things would have been different back then,
Some earlier goodbye
A service, some words,
then music
A chance to wear that tie
But if where we go from here is better
Perhaps good things have to wait
It’s said all good things
come to an end
Or do they all just show up late?
Chorus:
Dear, it’s only life
Six dozen trips around the sun
I still have a wife on paper
But I’ve learned to cook for one
We have the lady with her guitar on Tuesday,
So we sit in the dining room and clap
We clap in time
What was the time?
Time for pills and all that crap
There’s bingo Thursday after lunch
Your numbers up on a map
Then I leave you in the Home
So I go home
Stand and disappear, just like my lap
Chorus:
Dear, it’s only life
Six dozen trips around the sun
I still have a wife on paper,
But I’ve learned to cook for one
It’s only life
Six dozen trips around the sun
I still have a wife on paper,
But I’ve learned,
I’ve learned to cook for one
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9. |
Great Aunt Annie's Ashes
04:16
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GREAT AUNT ANNIE'S ASHES
by Tim Fatchen & Andrew Male
Great Aunt Annie's ashes sat
On the spare room's' bookcase.
Were you to ask us "Why is that?"
Well, they had to be put someplace!
But that got Uncle Arthur's goat.
One morning he rose early
And took the ashes to his boat
Intending them for berley.
----------------
He’d take his worries in the boat
And dump them in the Sound
Along with Annie’s sandwiches
Of artisanal bread, stone ground
He’d always swear he’d loved them
But as a kid I knew
That Aunty Annie’s sandwiches
All wound up in the Blue
---------------------
So it all seemed to make good sense
Almost the perfect turn
When Arthur added Annie
To his burley off the stern
Three minutes till the first one hit,
No time then to sit down
Eighty-six fishes boated
In an hour off Ballast Ground
-----------
There’s life and death and wishing
And magic on the sea
Old wives and breads and fishing
But never mix all three
For the water showed strange colors
As the wind spun at its heel
And Arthur he smelled home-made bread
As he took the wheel
------------
Still, Arthur, buoyed up by his catch,
hightailed it for the shore
Avoiding those his catch might snatch,
the dead hand of the law
The wondrous bounty in the boot,
the fish flesh all a-quiver,
Arthur to his home he'd shoot,
a fishmeal to deliver.
-----------
Admittedly, some looked quite odd,
you couldn't serve them whole
Nor fillet them like English cod,
nor serve them up like sole.
So Arthur set the mincer up,
to turn them into bulk fishcake
His neighbours he called in to sup,
and of Aunt Annie's catch partake.
------------
All the neighbours, sad to say,
from eating Arthur's dish
Expired in pain the next three days,
this wasn't Arthur's wish
His innocence we must declaim,
The poisonous fish mashes,
Was stern revenge beyond the grave,
through Great Aunt Annie's Ashes
-------------
It is in fishing as in life
Best not to go too early
And if you’re taking out a wife
Best not to over-berley
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Flying Tadpole Adelaide, Australia
The cutting satire, cruel humor, blue angst and general mayhem of the dark alter ego of Tim Fatchen. And the alter ego's
alter egos. And occasional or persistent collaborators, including strange shack dwellers from Wallaroo in the most recent release.
Where is Wallaroo? Nothing to see here, move along...
... more
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