The devils are lurking and the gremlins are smirking
In the printmaking workshop tonight There’s a cut in my paper and a tear in the blanket Think the pressure might be over-tight My ink is looking spare, Is that another hair? Still searching for the backing sheets I’m down on my tarlatan, running outta rags Oh, I swear I’m like a hot plate, turned up to eleven Starting to overheat Goin’ crazy tryin’a make a print where every little thing Is pure and good and right But before I edition, need a lot more precision, The right amount of dark and light But I’m filling with doubt, registration is out, The image could be better drawn, So I gotta keep proofing, gotta get it together If I’m counting the flaws I’ve barely just begun Like a B.A.T. out of hell Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong I’m making micro-adjustments but whatever I’m doing is Wrong, wrong, wrong Like a B.A.T. out of hell Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong When the blanket’s down And the wheel’s gone round And I’m holding my last proof Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven I’ll be ripping up this one too I’m gonna hit the presses like a battering ram I’m determined, gonna get it right Trying every plate in every orientation And bumping up the opaque white But nothing here to show, still no good to go And every proof has bitten the dust And nothing’s printing up and nothing’s lining up And nothing’s looking worth the fuss I’ve added in a little smidge of ultramarine, Tried a little cobalt too. But I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned If I’m adding in the Prussian blue Well, I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned, If I’m adding in the Prussian blue Well, I’d rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned, Rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned, Rather be damned, you know I’m gonna be damned, If I’m adding in the Prussian, Adding in the Prussian, Adding in the Prussian blue Goin’ crazy tryin’a make a print where every little thing Is pure and good and right But before I edition, need a lot more precision The right amount of dark and light Still having my doubts, registration is out, My image looking pretty forlorn, So I gotta keep proofing till I get it together Gotta sort out the flaws Before I see the sun Like a B.A.T. out of hell Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong I’m making micro-adjustments but whatever I’m doing is Wrong, wrong, wrong Like a B.A.T. out of hell Every print I’ve been pulling is wrong When the blanket’s down And the wheel’s gone round And I’m holding my last proof Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven I’ll be ripping up this one too Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven I’ll be ripping up this one too Well, I can see myself, tearing out my hair After Peeling back to find another dud And I’ve under-etched and I’ve over-wiped And invented fifty-seven ways to make another mistake But I still can't pull a good proof And I keep on messing up the order that I print my plates And I keep on messing up the order that I print my plates And I’m down to the bottom of my 55981 Torn my paper, every single last sheet is gone But I think somebody somewhere must have cast a spell Cause the last proof I pull is a thing Of beauty It’s a print of perfection, in every way It’s a hellava B.A.T. And I’m scraping the bottom of my 55981 Torn my paper, every single last sheet is gone But I think somebody somewhere must have cast a spell Cause the last proof I pull is a thing Of beauty, of beauty It’s a print of perfection, in every way It’s a hellava B.A.T. Oh, it’s a hellava B.A.T. Oh, it’s a hellava B.A.T. Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell (As I’m watching the morning, watching the morning dawn) Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell (As I’m watching the morning, watching the morning dawn) Oh, like a B.A.T. out of hell Meatloaf & Jim Steinman, Bat Out of Hell, 1977
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E Am C7
Sometimes, there’s a voice in your head Says you gotta get out, somewhere better instead It’s time to print, you’re just not able You need more space, you need more tables In a workshop in a mud brick town With gums and wallabies all around Roller on ink the only sound In a studio in a mud brick town Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to Baldessin Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to F. Bb C7 F Baldessin, oh Baldessin, F F7 Bb Gm7 I can hear Tess Edwards calling C7 F. Bb. Bb Am Gm Silvi sets the presses rolling C. Dm Get my printing done Here at Baldessin Saturday market, chattering voices So many chais so many choices Classic? Spice? Mug? Pot? Which one have you got? Have you had it, do you drink it If so, how often Which do you choose The cow or soy option? (The cow or soy?) Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to Baldessin Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to Baldessin, oh Baldessin, Got a workshop to be doing Silvi gets the coffee brewin’ Crank up the Albion Here at Baldessin Baldessin Aaaaa… Aaaaa… Aaaaa… Aaaaa… A. B. A. B And it’s always been my fantasy C#m B. A Win a fellowship from the State Library A B E Saving money with my own sheets B. A In a garret in the sun Here at D Eb E Baldessin Barbie Kjar is bringing it home Mokulito on wood not stone Photogravure’s Not just a fad Check out Lloyd’s bromilliads Holy Moses! A kangaroo! Drop my pizza from a Boy Named Sue (with double vegan cheese!) Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to Baldessin Last stop on the Hurstbridge Line I’m heading out to Baldessin, oh Baldessin, Where I feel the Enjay sighing Where my latest prints are drying Dm C. Bb. Am. Gm Where the ghost of George still walks among the gums Gm A D At Baldessin At Baldessin Neil Tennant & Chris Lowe (Pet Shop Boys), West End Girls, 1986 Jimmy Webb (for Glen Campbell), Galveston, 1969 |
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December 2023
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