I went to a party at the local county jail,
All the cons were dancing, and the band began to wail.
But the guys were indiscreet,
They were brawling in the street.
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Well, the band were playing,
And the booze began to flow,
But the sound came over on the police car radio,
Down at Precinct forty-nine,
Having a tear-gas of a time.
Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
I love to hear those convicts squeal,
It's a shame these slugs ain't real.
But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail.
Sergeant Baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail.
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail/
There's a rumor goin' 'round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow,
At the local hop, at the local county jail.
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Sergeant Baker started talkin'
With a bullhorn in his hand.
He was cool, he was clear,
He was always in command.
He said "Blood will flow,
Here Padre,
Padre, you talk to your boys..."
"Trust in me,
God will come to set you free."
Well, we don't understand
Why you called in the National Guard,
When Uncle Sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard.
We all got balls and brains,
But some's got balls and chains,
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance, at the local county jail?
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
All the cons were dancing, and the band began to wail.
But the guys were indiscreet,
They were brawling in the street.
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Well, the band were playing,
And the booze began to flow,
But the sound came over on the police car radio,
Down at Precinct forty-nine,
Having a tear-gas of a time.
Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
I love to hear those convicts squeal,
It's a shame these slugs ain't real.
But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail.
Sergeant Baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail.
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail/
There's a rumor goin' 'round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow,
At the local hop, at the local county jail.
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Sergeant Baker started talkin'
With a bullhorn in his hand.
He was cool, he was clear,
He was always in command.
He said "Blood will flow,
Here Padre,
Padre, you talk to your boys..."
"Trust in me,
God will come to set you free."
Well, we don't understand
Why you called in the National Guard,
When Uncle Sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard.
We all got balls and brains,
But some's got balls and chains,
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets.
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance, at the local county jail?
At the local dance, at the local county jail.
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do?
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2019/5/22 - 23:33
Per dirti tutta la verità, ieri sera, quando ho visto il tuo "commento Neanderthaliano" sulla pagina della canzone di Capossela e in mezzo al tuo dialogo col Poltronieri, mi è successo in modo quasi automatico di mettermi a canticchiare "Neanderthal Man" degli Hotlegs, o 10cc che dir si voglia. Un automatismo vero e proprio! La storia di quel brano è incredibile: era nato come una semplice sessione di prova improvvisata per testare le percussioni, e andò a finire che vendette due milioni e rotti di copie in tutto il mondo. Per dirtela tutta, avevo addirittura pensato di metterla nel sito come pagina autonoma, in un primo momento: un segno, proprio come dici tu, della maggiore evoluzione dell'Homo Neanderthalensis. Chissà poi che effetto avrebbe avuto avere due specie umane ben distinte! Tuttora sono incerto se trasformare il commento in una pagina vera e propria o meno; ma forse va bene così. Saluti e baci!
Riccardo Venturi - 2019/5/23 - 08:44
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
Scritta da Kevin Godley, Lol Creme e Graham Gouldman
Singolo poi incluso nell'album d'esordio della band inglese originaria di Stockport.
Grazie a Riccardo per l'input, con Neanderthal Man...
"Rubber Bullets" è una canzone farsesca, alla Jailhouse Rock, ma che nel 1973 non poteva non far pensare alla realtà dei Troubles o di Attica...