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lirik lagu broadford bazaar – jethro tull

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dirty white caravans down our road, sailing.
vivas, cortinas, weaving in their wake.
with hot, red-faced drivers, h-rns flattened, fists whaling,
putting trust in blind corners as they overtake.

and it’s “all come willing now,
spend a shilling now,
stack up the back of your new motor-car.”
there’s home-dyed woolens, and wee plastic [cuillins]
[blessed? ] [cuchulains? ]
[cuchulain == mythical irish hero — wee plastic cuchulains? ]

[jo-l@kcbbs.gen.nz (jo lobb) explains: broadford is a town on
skye (where the road that p-sses dun ringill leaves the main
road, incidentally) and skye’s famous cuillin hills are nearby.
i suppose tourists could be expected to buy wee plastic models
of spectacular hills … also, the cuillin hills are “also
known as the coolins or cuchullins, possibly after an ossianic
hero…”, so maybe wee plastic model heroes do make sense, after
all.]

the day of the broadford bazaar.

out of the north, no oil-rigs are drifting.
and jobs for the many are down to the few.
blue-bottle choppers, they visit no longer.
like flies to the jampots, they were just p-ssing through.

and it’s “all come willing now,
spend a shilling now,
stack up the back of your new motor-car”
where once stood oil-rigs so phallic
there’s only swear-words in gaelic
to say at the broadford bazaar.

all kinds of people come down for the opening.
crofters and cottiers, white [wild? ] settlers galore.
[crofter == farmer renting land]
[cottier == farmer renting land]
and up on the hill, there’s an old sheep that’s dying,
but it had two new lambs born just a fortnight before.

and it’s “all come willing now,
spend a shilling now,
stack up the back of your new motor-car.”
we’ll take pounds, francs and dollars from the well-heeled,
and stamps from the green shield.
the day of the broadford bazaar.

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