Brenda’s Iron Sledge Songtext

von Robyn Hitchcock

We head downhill
Our hands fly back
Our fingers freeze
Our hair falls out, our hair falls out
Our fingers freeze
Our hair falls out

The iron piston pumps and spouts
The steaming air as hot as sprouts

Ah, all aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge

The ones on top are comfortable (Yeah)
They're sitting on a human chain, a human chain
They're sitting on a human chain
Their limbs, compressed in icy slush,
Are freezing in a raw meat groove

Ah, all aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
Please don't call me Reg
It's not my name

The bodies rear the bucking sled
Which hits a tree
And falls asleep, and falls asleep
Which hits a tree
And that is that

The grasshoppers curl up and burst
And Brenda shovels on the wurst

Ah, all aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
Please don't call me Reg
It's not my name
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
All aboard
Brenda's iron sledge
Please don't call me Reg
It's not my name