The Pogues Singles

The Pogues - Summer In Siam


1990 - WEA Records


01 |
 Summer in Siam
02 |
 Bastard Landlord
03 |
 Hell's Ditch (instrumental)
04 |
 The Irish Rover 7" version (with the Dubliners)


When it's Summer in Siam
And the moon is full of rainbows
When it's Summer in Siam
And we go through many changes
When it's Summer in Siam
Then all I really know
Is that I truly am
In the Summer in Siam
Oh Lord won't you tell me I'm sure I don't know,
Who makes the plans that change our lives so,
From a place in the country so peaceful and calm,
We moved up to London as the bombs fell around,
On a street by the river where the rent it was cheap,
The Landlord he told us "Its yours to keep",
For a regular payment week after week,
You've always a roof under which you can sleep.

The years passed by, the war came to an end,
We lived our lives did nothing to offend,
But the Landlord's conditions yearly they grew,
With the size of his gut and his housing values,
He'd kneel on a Sunday and pray to the Lord,
For ideals of love his wealth can't afford,
When the Bastard he came round to raise up rent,
We swallowed our pride and we smiled our best.

Bricks and mortar, a kingdom of stone,
When you go when you're all alone,
They'll carve your name where you lie,
And I for one no tears will cry.

Greed knows no boundaries, greed does not feel,
I'm damned if I'll die for a property deal,
The woman next door she just passed away,
For the rent grew so high that she just couldn't pay,
And there in her bed she closed up her eyes,
The last time she gazed on this world of lies,
With nowhere to go and nothing saved,
She went to the next world and the Bastard he smiled.

Bricks and mortar, a kingdom of stone,
When you go you're all alone,
They'll carve your name where you lie,
And I for one no tears will cry.

Oh Lord won't you tell me I'm sure I don't know,
What makes some people so callous and cold,
I've lived in this house for forty-four years,
My children were born here, its here I'll grow old,
A curse on you, Bastard Landlord be damned,
Who needs one more house like a beach needs more sand,
I'll stay here till I'm done only then will I go,
Was never meant one man should treat others so.
On the Fourth of July, 1806
We set sail from the sweet Cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the Grand City Hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft
She was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts
She had twenty seven masts
And they called her The Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides'
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs
six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million sides of old nanny goate tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover

There was awl Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
And the ladies lined up for a set
He would tootle with skill
For each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk
He was cock of the walk
As he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance
When he took up his stance
That he sailed in The Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee
From the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk
Who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man, Mick McCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

For a sailor its' always a bother in life
It's so lonesome by night and by day
That he longs for the shore
and a charming young whore
Who will melt all his troubles away
Oh, the noise and the rout
Swillin' poiteen and stout
For him soon the torment's over
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid
An old salt from the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
And that whale of a crew
Was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock
Oh Lord! what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned (1,2,3!)
I'm the last of The Irish Rover