RELEASES
The Smooth
Sounds of Tindersticks 7", 1995
Marks Moods, 1997 (instrumental version)
Working For The Man - bonus disc, 2004
Marks Moods Reissue, 2004 (instrumental version) |
- COMMENTS
- This spoken word "song" tells a sad little
story. The narrator is Mark Colwill
(Tindersticks' bass player). Guests are: Terry Edwards (baritone sax), Mike Kearsey (trombone) and Malcolm Moore (double bass).
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LYRICS
Harry was a
contented dog. But he awoke this morning and something was
very wrong. He couldn't be bothered to beg for mid-morning
biscuits. He couldn't be bothered to roll over and rub his
back on the rough floor. He couldn't be bothered to scratch
at anything that might be nibbling away at him. He just lay
on top of his kennel feeling thoroughly depressed. Even his
tail wouldn't wag.
Four months earlier, his owner (an elderly gentlemen whom
Harry had been devoted to ever since he was a puppy) had
been temporarily forced to leave the country, leaving Harry
with a trustworthy,
caring couple who lived around the corner. Things hadn't
been so bad at first: long walks, hearty dinners; even his
kennel was in the same spot in their yard -- just to the
right of the back door.
This is the same kennel that Harry had now been moping on
top of for three days. Despite the best efforts of the
young, caring couple to cheer him up -- offers of chicken
and an endless stream of un-fetched balls sent rolling down
the yard -- nothing could coax Harry from his gloom. So, it
was decided to send him to the vet.
Harry was a large dog and heavy-withered, and he was in no
mood to climb down from his kennel and trot to the waiting
car to travel two miles to the surgery. Eventually, he was
lifted, with the aid of a neighbour,
onto a blanket and hobbled from kennel to car; from the car
to the vet's. When, once, Harry would have put up a fight
before going within 500 yards of this place, during the
whole journey, he never raised an eyebrow. Of course, the
vet could find nothing wrong with Harry; mentioned
depression; suggested chicken and balls; sent Harry home to
rest, still wrapped in the blanket. It took seven days for
the notification to come through. The owner had died in his
sleep, leaving specific instructions for Harry to be put
down. Harry was a dead dog.
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