You’re feeling nervous, aren’t you, boy? With your quiet voice and impeccable style Don’t ever let them steal your joy And your gentle ways To keep ’em from running wild
They can kick dirt in your face Dress you down, and tell you that your place Is in the middle, when they hate the way you shine
I see you tugging on your shirt Trying to hide inside of it And hide how much it hurts
Let ’em laugh while they can Let ’em spin, let ’em scatter in the wind I have been to the movies, I’ve seen how it ends And the joke’s on them
You get discouraged, don’t you, girl? It’s your brother’s world for a while longer We gotta dance with the devil on a river To beat the stream Call it living the dream, call it kicking the ladder
They come to kick dirt in your face To call you weak and then displace you After carrying your baby on your back across the desert I saw your eyes behind your hair And you’re looking tired, but you don’t look scared
Let ’em laugh while they can Let ’em spin, let ’em scatter in the wind I have been to the movies, I’ve seen how it ends And the joke’s on them
Let ’em laugh while they can Let ’em spin, let ’em scatter in the wind I have been to the movies, I’ve seen how it ends And the joke’s on them
He went to sea for the day He wanted to know what to say When he’s asked what he’d done In the past to someone That he loves endlessly Now she’s gone, so is he
I went to war every morning I lost my way but now I’m following What you said in my arms What I read in the charms That I love durably Now it’s dead and gone and I am free
I went to sleep for the daytime I shut my eyes to the sunshine Turned my head away from the noise Bruise and drip decay of childish toys That I loved arguably All our labouring gone to seed
Went out to play for the evening We wanted to hold onto the feeling On the stretch in the sun And our breathlessness as we run To the beach endlessly As the sun creeps up on the sea
County Tyrone native Paul Brady used his song ‘The Island’ to draw some comparisons between the Troubles and the civil war in Lebanon that began in 1975. A pacifistic song highlighting the tragedy of the cycles of violence that Ireland had been experiencing for centuries, it contrasts the peaceful image of a couple making love on an island with acts of terrorism and war.
Lyrics
The Island (Paul Brady)
They say the skies of Lebanon are burning. Those mighty cedars bleeding in the heat. They’re showing pictures on the television. Women and children dying in the street And we’re still at it in our own place. Still trying to reach the future through the past. Still trying to carve tomorrow from a tombstone…
But Hey! Don’t listen to me!. This wasn’t meant to be no sad song. We’ve heard too much of that before. Right now I only want to be here with you. Till the morning dew comes falling. I want to take you to the island. And trace your footprints in the sand. And in the evening when the sun goes down We’ll make love to the sound of the ocean
They’re raising banners over by the markets Whitewashing slogans on the shipyard walls Witchdoctors praying for a mighty showdown No way our holy flag is gonna fall Up here we sacrifice our children To feed the worn-out dreams of yesterday And teach them dying will lead us into glory…
Now I know us plain folks don’t see all the story. And I know this peace and love’s just copping out. And I guess these young boys dying in the ditches. Is just what being free is all about. And how this twisted wreckage down on main street. Will bring us all together in the end. And we’ll go marching down the road to freedom…. Freedom
Whoaaa! Another day (adabadee, nigga) I take your pain away
Some people talk about ya like they know all about ya When you get down they doubt ya And when you tip it on the scene, yeah they talkin’ bout it Cause they can’t tip on the scene They just talk about it, t-t-t-talk bout it When you get elevated They love it or they hate it You dance up on them haters Keep getting funky on the scene While they jumpin’ round ya They trying to take all of your dreams But you can’t allow it Cause baby whether you’re high or low Whether you’re high or low You gotta tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) T-t-t-tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) Baby, baby, baby, whether you’re high or low (high or low) Baby whether you’re high or low (high or low) You got to tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) Now let me see you do the tightrope (tip, tip on it) And I’m still tippin’ on it
See I’m not walkin’ on it Or tryin to run around it This ain’t no acrobatics You either follow or you lead, yeah I’m talkin’ bout ya Keep on blaming the machine, yeah I’m talkin’ bout it T-t-t-talkin’ bout it I can’t complain about it I gotta keep my balance And just keep dancin on it We gettin funky on the scene Yeah you know about it Like a star on the screen Watch me tip all on it
Then baby whether I’m high or low (high or low) Baby whether you’re high or low (high or low) You gotta tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) Yeah, tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) Baby, baby, baby Whether you’re high or low (high or low) Baby whether you’re high or low (high or low) Tip on the tightrope (tip, tip on it) Baby let me see you tight rope (tip, tip on it) And I’m still tippin’ on it
You gotta keep your balance Or you fall into the gap It’s a challenge but I manage Cause I’m cautious with the strap Do damage to your cabbage that A doctor cannot patch Why you don’t want no friction Like the back of a matchbook Daddy Fat Sax will fold you And your MacBook Close shows, shut you down Before we go-go backwards Act up, and whether we high or low We gonna get back-up Like the Dow Jones and NASDAQ Sorta like a thong in an ass crack Come on
I tip on alligators and little rattlesnakers But I’m another flavor Something like a terminator Ain’t no equivocating I fight for what I believe Why you talkin’ ’bout it J-j-just talkin’ ’bout it Some callin’ me a sinner Some callin’ me a winner I’m callin’ you to dinner And you know exactly what I mean Yeah I’m talkin bout you You can rock or you can leave Watch me tip without you
N-n-now whether I’m high or low (High or low) Whether I’m high or low (High or low) I’m gonna tip on the tightrope (Tip, tip on it) Mmm (Tip, tip on it)
Baby, baby, baby Whether I’m high or low (High or low) High or low (High or low) I got to tip on the tightrope (Tip, tip on it) Now baby tip on the tightrope
You can’t get too high (You can’t get too high) I said you can’t get too low (We can’t get too low) Cause you get too high (You can’t get too high) No, you’ll surely be low (No, you’ll surely be low) 1, 2, 3, ho!
Yeah, yeah Now shut up, yeah Yeah, now put some voodoo on it Ladies and gentlemen, the funkiest horn section in Metropolis Yeah, oh We call that classy brass
Ohh ohh Oh!Do you mind? If I play the ukulele Just like a little lady Do you mind? If I play the ukulele Just like a little lady