Words by Dave Boulton, music by Jeff Parton
Probably the very first song Jeff and I wrote together after watching a more “modern” artiste in a folk club. The music was much different than the “traddy” stuff he and I were playing. We looked at each other and one of us said. (can’t remember who). “We’re going, extinct mate.” We wrote the song soon after.
We’re just two ancient singers with gnarled arthritic fingers
We can hardly get our hands around the chords
After twenty years of practice, just when we thought we’d cracked it
No-one wants to listen anymore
Oh we’re just two folkasauruses who love to sing the choruses
That made the people want to sing along
When it was just the music mattered, not the posing or the patter
Everything you’d want to sing was in the song
We get cramp and tennis elbow and I’ve seen my sense of smell go
Dave’s got gout, lumbago, farmer’s lung and piles
Of songs he’s had for twenty years that he can sing and play by ear
In several indistinguishable styles
Well we sing from the tradition and a few songs that we’ve written
But to copy off the famous isn’t fair
‘Cause we’ve always had the feeling that it’s tantamount to stealing
They’re not singing ours so we’re not singing theirs
We don’t steal songs, we select ‘em, we don’t pinch ‘em, we collect ‘em
From sweet old dears in bars where they are boozing
And if their memories are fading and we feel they need persuading
Dave can do it so he don’t leave any bruising
Did you ever hear a Texan singing like he comes from Wrexham?
I wouldn’t think it’s ever crossed his mind
So why do all the folks today sing like they’re from the U.S.A.
When we know they come from (xxx) all the time?
They say extinction’s nature’s way of saying that you’ve had your day
But when we’ve popped our clogs, what happens then?
Will the songs we’ve loved and cherished just become disused and perish?
Seems like they need us as much as we need them
1993 His Worship & the Pig