Joe, the Georgian (Al Stewart)
Now I've got my payment
For the service that I gave;
They've given me my ticket
To this place beyond the grave.
I suppose it's kind of funny,
I suppose it's kind of sad,
Thinking back on all the times we had.
But it's kind of hot and smoky
In this ante-room to Hell,
And I won't make up a story
'Cause you know the truth so well.
It's much too late to worry
That we never had a chance,
And, when Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance, dance, dance.
When Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance.
We all set off together
On this sorry Ship of State.
When the Captain took the fever,
We were hijacked by the Mate;
And he steered us through the shadows,
Upon an angry tide,
And cast us one by one over the side.;
But it's kind of hot and smoky
In this ante-room to Hell,
And I won't make up a story
'Cause you know the truth so well.
It's much too late to worry
That we never had a chance,
And, when Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance, dance, dance.
When Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance.
There's Kameniev, Zinoviev,
Bukharin, and the rest;
We're sharpening our pitchforks
And we're heating up the ends.
We've got a few surprises
For the Mate when he appears;
I hope he likes the next few million years.
And it's kind of hot and smoky
In this anteroom to Hell,
And I won't make up a story
'Cause you know the truth so well.
It's much too late to worry
That we never had a chance,
And, when Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance, dance, dance.
When Joe the Georgian gets here,
We will dance.