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letra de boot soup - tanglefoot

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a gold rush town
and i, the bishop
preaching to the schoolmarms and the drunks
the swaggering gamblers, the men on the trapline
i’ve quoted scripture to a grizzly more than once

i make the rounds
on thursdays it’s the ladies
for small talk and darjeeling tea
served up on silver, an array of fine cheeses
society’s bishop–that’s me!

chorus:
ooh bishop with your voice like a cello
tell us once again what it’s like to be a man
hungry, lost and alone
yearning for the comforts of home
yearning for the pleasures–
of home

crumpets in hand, i begin to regale
how i once lost my way in a winter’s gale
pretty faces like saucers surround me, intent on my
sorrowful tale

socked in for days
big storm on the trapline
and supplies looking rather spare
a couple of crusts, a twist of tobacco
not a squirrel to be had; not a hare

my sealskin boots
and the rawhide laces
were starting to look rather good to me
i scr-ped them, i boiled them, i stewed them for hours…
“dear bishop,” said the ladies, “more tea?”

chorus:
ooh bishop with your voice like a cello
(perhaps just… half a cup)
tell us once again what it’s like to be a man
hungry, lost and alone
yearning for the comforts of home
yearning for the pleasures–

even in the best of circles
moist leather has its appeal
vicar’ous thrills for victorian damsels
boot soup makes a wonderful meal

chorus:
ooh bishop with your voice like a cello
tell us once again what it’s like to be a man
hungry, lost and alone
yearning for the comforts of home
yearning for the pleasures–
ooh bishop with your voice like a cello
tell us once again what it’s like to be a man
(exhilarating!)
hungry, lost and alone
yearning for the comforts of home
yearning for the pleasures–
of home

(it’s good to be back)

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