RECORDING Davies, Rhett (Basing Street Studios, London UK 13.02.-05.03.78)
PRODUCTION Winwood, Muff
CREDITS For Charlie Gillett.
Thank you Robert Allen.




  1. Down To The Waterline
  2. (03:59)
  3. Water Of Love
  4. (05:22)
  5. Setting Me Up
  6. (03:19)
  7. Six Blade Knife
  8. (04:09)
  9. Southbound Again
  10. (02:57)
  11. Sultans Of Swing
  12. (05:34)
  13. In The Gallery
  14. (06:14)
  15. Wild West End
  16. (04:42)
  17. Lions (04:54)


  1. Eastbound Train


  1. Real Girl



Sweet surrender on the quayside
You remember we used to run and hide
In the shadow of the cargoes I take you one time
And we're counting all the numbers down to the waterline

Near misses on the dogleap stairways
French kisses in the darkened doorways
A foghorn blowing out wild and cold
A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder

Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night
Over my shoulder all you can see are the pilot lights
No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn
Your hands are cold but your lips are warm

She can see him on the jetty where they used to go
She can feel him in the places where the sailors go
When she's walking by the river and the railway line
She can still hear him whisper
Let's go down to the waterline

It was New Cross Station, I was going on home
Saw you get your ticket, standing on your own.
Here come the train about 2:44
I couldn't get a smoker, you took another car.

Yeah, the end of the line, we both had to change,
And you're standing right behind me,
I'm a feeling kinda strange.
We got to Mile End Road, my heart skipped a beat,
Standing right behind me, I'm a shakin' in my seat.
3-4 minutes and the train comes through,
I'm ridin' on the Central, I'm a-lookin' at you.

Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.

Now I couldn't read a paper, you couldn't read a book,
Kept on taking me another look,
You got off the train, you never looked behind
I tried, but I can't get you out of my mind.

Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.

Well I got one more thing I wanna say before I go
If you get the message on the radio
You can write a letter, get in touch with me,
Leave your number with the company, yeah.

Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.

Harry made a bareback rider proud and free upon a horse
And a fine coalminer for the NCB that was
A fallen angel and Jesus on the cross
A skating ballerina you should have seen her do the skater's waltz

Some people have got to paint and draw
Harry had to work in clay and stone
Like the waves coming to the shore
It was in his blood and in his bones
Ignored by all the trendy boys in London and in Leeds
He might as well have been making toys or strings of beads
He could not be in the gallery

And then you get an artist says he doesn't want to paint at all
He takes an empty canvas and sticks it on the wall
The birds of a feather all the phonies and all of the fakes
While the dealers they get together
And they decide who gets the breaks
And who's going to be in the gallery

No lies he wouldn't compromise
No junk no bits of string
And all the lies we subsidise
That just don't mean a thing
I've got to say he passed away in obscurity
And now all the vultures are coming down from the tree
So he's going to be in the gallery

Red sun go down way over dirty town
Starling are sweeping around crazy shoals
A girl is there high heeling across the square
Wind blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles
Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light
She looks around to find a face she can like.

Church bell clinging on trying to get a crowd for Evensong
Nobody cares to depend upon the chime it plays
They're all in the station praying for trains
Congregations late again
It's getting darker all the time these flagpole days
Drunk old soldier he gives her a fright
He's crazy lion howling for a fight.

Strap hanging gunshot sound
Doors slamming on the overground
Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone
Her evening paper is horror torn
But there's hope later for Capricorns
Her lucky stars give her just enough to get home
Then she's reading about a swing to the right
But she's thinking about a stranger in the night
I'm thinking about the lions tonight
What happened to the lions.

I want no suckers, head fuckers, bad luckers
Back biters, up fighters, brighters too
I want a real girl just like you
A real girl just like you

Don't give me no actresses, 'n distresses, 'n strangenesses
Men owners, hard loaners
I just want nocar
Smooth operators just ain't gonna do
I want a real girl, just like you
A real girl just like you

Don't give me no pseuders, prooders, funny fooders
They're just looking for takers, man rapers
don't like selfers, on the shelfers
Don't give a damn. Oh no
I want a real girl, just like you
A real girl just like you

Star gazers, chasers of passing phases
Three weekers, soul seekers, freakers
Speeders, bleeders
Feel only I wanna real girl, just like you
A real girl just like you

Tell her, tell her
Only want to have a shelter when things go wrong
Romancer, good dancer
Ice breaker, Love maker

Don't give me no suckers, head fuckers, bad luckers
dream buyers, half lives, just alives
Back biters, uptighters
Happens to
I want a real girl , just like you
A real girl just like you

You say I'm the greatest bound for glory
Well the word is out and I learned
I got the latest side of the story
You're pulling out before you get burned

Well your hands are squeezing me down to the bone
I never saw you breaking no law
Stands to reason I've got to leave you alone
What you take me for

You're setting me up to put me down
You're making me out to be your clown
You're just setting me up to put me down
You better give it up
Quit your messing around

You think I care about your reaction
You think I don't understand
All you wanted was a piece of the action
Now you talk about another man

Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you

You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin

I'd like to be free of it now - I don't want it no more
I'd like to be free of it now - you know I don't want it no more

Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle a wife or something that you just can't see

You know it keeps you strong
Yes and it'll do me wrong
Your six blade knife - do anything for you

Southbound again I don't know if I'm going or leaving home
Boy got to be moving
Seems like the boy is bound to roam

Southbound again got no money I've got no place to go
That woman's with her lover boy
Never want to see her face no more

Every single time I roll across the rolling River Tyne
I get the same old feeling
Every time I'm moving down the line

Southbound again last night I felt like crying
Right now I'm sick of living
But I'm going to keep on trying

You get a shiver in the dark
It's been raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
You feel all right when you hear that music ring

You step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Too much competition too many other places
But not too many horns can make that sound
Way on downsouth way on downsouth London town

You check out Guitar George he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
And an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing

And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job he's doing alright
He can play honky tonk just like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans with the Sultans of Swing

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
And the Sultans played Creole

And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
'Thank you goodnight now it's time to go home'
and he makes it fast with one more thing
'We are the Sultans of Swing'


THOMAS GYGAX, 09.12.96. (Pa 10.01.13)