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Artist :Black 47
Album :Bankers & Gangsters
Title :

Long Lost Tapes of Hendrix

One evening while out strollin' a friend

I chanced to see

He was begging behind a bottle

On Spring and Bowery

He said, "I got some news for you

Only cost a couple of bob

About a buried treasure

Back home in Ballydehob

Well, I gave him all the bucks I had

And he took me by the hand

I know you love musicians

I've got news to beat the band

For back there in me native town

In the Allied Irish Bank

The long lost tapes of Hendrix

Are hidden in the vault

You can talk about your pyramids

And your pints of Guinness stout

But the long lost tapes of Hendrix

Will leave them in the dirt

So I stole me boss's credit card

To the airport I did jog

Very soon thereafter

I arrived in Ballydehob

When I hit the Allied Irish me

Fatigue turned to desire

I beheld two hundred pounds

Of sweet Maggie McGuire

She cast her eyes upon me

"what are you doin' in me bank?"

I'm here on a secret mission, doll

Oh no, not another Yank

I hate the very sight of yez

Apart from your president

That man can stimulate me

Any way he wants

What are you doin' later?

Yera, I'm not up to much

Would you care for a pint of Guinness?

I never touch the stuff

But one pint led to two or three

Six to seven or eight

Until I was shakin' hands with meself

And that girl was feelin' no pain

She was startin' to look beautiful

Though there was three of her in sight

Six hundred pounds of lovin'

What do you have in mind?

Oh, sweet Maggie Magurie

There's one thing I'd adore

To go down to the vault of your bank

And do it on the floor

No bother, a stรณr

That's easily arranged

So we stole into the bank

And down the creaky stairs

Soon we were inside

The vault and dentin' the very floor

I could see the tapes of Hendrix

And they hidden behind the door

I never had such a night of love

She knew every trick in the book

Over, under, sideways

By the mornin' I was shook

When she finally keeled over

I gently moved her weight

With her snores wakin' the very dead

I headed for the tapes

Then all at once

A big white flash took me by surprise

An apparition in tie-dye

Arose before me eyes

A curly headed black man

Exploded in the light

T'was the ghost of Jimi Hendrix

And him playin' the Uilleann pipes

I woke up in the hospital

A weddin' ring on me hand

Two hundred pounds of Maggie McGuire

Smilin' to beat the band

Oh, you're so romantic

No engagement did I need

Just one mad night of blisterin' sex

Brought me to my knees

So now I live in Ballydehob

Where the rain pours down all week

I'm nearly faded away from tendin'

To Maggie McGuire's needs

The moral of this story is

Don't ever find your dreams

And keep away from Hendrix

And his goddamn bloody tapes

You can talk about your pyramids

And your pints of Guinness stout

But the long lost tapes of Hendrix

Will leave them in the dirt

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