Cabaret79: Glad To Be Gay

1) Pub Hassle

Hello darling I like your knockers
I like the way they're hanging free
Did you leave it off tonight, then?
Bet you done that just for me

What do you mean you ain't interested
What do you mean, you're with your friend
What do you girls hang around in bars for
If it ain't to pick up men?

Are you one of them women's libbers
Are you the kind that burns your bra
Wouldn't you rather we burned your knickers
That's a good one: ha ha ha

What do you mean it isn't original
Can't you even take a little joke
If you got no sense of humour
How do you expect to get a bloke?

You don't need one - what does that mean
What are you, some kind of a les
Is that your girlfriend - is she jealous?
Well never you mind about what she says

Why don't you invite me over
So I can watch you kiss your friend
If she's the man and you're the woman
How come you both dress like men?

I bet you are fed up explaining
I'm not surprised if she's all you got
Wouldn't you rather try the real thing
Big & throbbing, red & hot

Alright alright don't get offended
I'm only trying to be your friend
I don't think you're liberated
I just think you're scared of men

What the fuck do you think you're doing
You've torn my shirt and spilled my drink
This place has got a reputation
What will all the customers think?

Here John, show this bitch the door now
She can't leave a feller alone
This Channel Four crap has gone too far now
There's nowhere left a man can call his own

Barbara Norden

TR: I would like you to imagine now that it's about one o'clock in the morning and you've missed the last tube home again...been out on the town, got thrown out of 'BANGS' again... and you're going back to your digs in Clapham; there are worse fates than a digs in Clapham, but I can't think of them at the moment...

The first night I dared to come out on the town
It was hard believing my eyes
Met a fresh faced teacher in a big leather coat
On a dancefloor crowded with guys
And though he never told me he loved me
I know he never told me no lies

Hoping... moping
Freezing at the bus stop in Coldharbour Lane
Blew it... knew it
Hitting the bottle I could hardly remember his name

Time out taking the tube into town
To the upstairs room on the right
Stuck in the middle but feeling the need
To keep it up night after night
One time I hit the jackpot
Made out with the hottest in sight

Grinning... winning
He was a slim dark mover
With devastating eyes
Fun night... one night
He came and left me there barely saying goodbye

Boozing... cruising
Bitterly sipping a half pint of 'E'
Who's he... choosing
Clenching my toes
And just wishing to God it was me

Getting a refectory breakfast
Laghing in the midday sun
Kawazaki Z9OO
Two-up over the ton
Visits in the winter vacation
Vino in the afternoon
Long term away on location
Letters from the Venice lagoon

Hey ho baby you're an angel
Choking on a cheap cigar
Red head lecherous angel
Propping up the Union bar

All night parties with Charlie
Swimming in the middle of May
Eyeing up the rival bikers
Hanging out at Mac's Cafe
Stoned cold over in Cromer
Rolling up a last resort
Kissing at the Saturday disco
Riot on the studio floor

Hey ho baby you're an angel
Cutting up a couple of cars
Red head lecherous angel
Propping up the Union bar

I must have been crazy to end it
I must have been out of my brain
I felt he was getting dependent
So I said I'd never see him again
Now I miss him when I listen to a jukebox
I miss him when I'm having a shave
I miss him in the middle of the morning
I miss him at the end of the day

Hey ho baby you're an angel
Propping up the Union bar
Red head lecherous angel
I'm missing you wherever you are

The British Police are the best in the world
I don't believe one of these stories I've heard
'Bout them raiding our pubs for no reason at all
Lining the customers up by the wall
Picking out people and knocking them down
Resisting arrest as they're kicked on the ground
Searching their houses and calling them queer
I don't believe that sort of thing happens here

Pictures of naked young women are fun
In Titbits and Playboy, page three of The Sun
There's no nudes in Gay News our last magazine
But they still find excuses to call it obscene
Read how disgusting we are in the press
The News of The World and the Sunday Express
Molesters of children, corruptors of youth
It's there in the paper, it must be the truth

Have you heard the story about Peter Wells
Who one day was arrested and dragged to the cells
For being in love with a man of 18
The vicar found out they'd been having a scene
The magistrate sent him for trial by the Crown
He even appealed, but they still sent him down
He was only mistreated a couple of years
Cos even in prison they...
Look after the queers

So sit back and watch as they close all our clubs
Arrest us for meeting and raid all our pubs
Make sure your boyfriend's at least 21
So only your friends and your brothers get done
Lie to your workmates, lie to your folks
Put down the queens and tell anti-queer jokes
Gay Lib's ridiculous, join their laughter
'The buggers are legal now -
What more are they after?'

TR: Is anybody here old enough to remember the CHE (Campaign for Homosexual Equality) conference in 1975? It was one of those occasions when there was a lot of fighting, a lot of discussion... a lot of fruitful interaction between individuals; and when everybody was taking time off from their fruitful interactions there was a dance on the Saturday night, and this Panda car pulled up outside the front door of the disco, and three policemen got out and they went into the dance: they didn't even pay ! They went straight in and stood on the dance floor. Did they dance? Did they hell - they just stood there... LOOKING. Now as anybody who has ever been to a gay disco will tell you, to stand there looking is not the thing to do ! They got surrounded by some very heavy people...

All you gay women, all you gay men
Come together, stand together
And each others' rights defend

There are ghettoes in our cities
Some are black and some are white
Some you see and some are hidden
In the shadows of the night
To be gay is to be fighting
All the prejudice and lies
That condemn us to be running
Scared and lonely all our lives

All you gay women, all you gay men
Come together, stand together
And each others' rights defend

There are people in the cities
And the towns throughout the land
Who are saying to themselves
This is the time to make a stand
Workers, women, gays and black and white
Now opening our eyes
To the need to take control
Of both our bodies and our lives

All you gay women, all you gay men
Come together, stand together
And each others' rights defend

Seventeen years I've been running and hiding
Never thought loving was sweeter than this
Now I'm alone again I'm only thinking
Of soul brother Steven, the man that I miss

Now I'm alone again I'm only thinking
Of soul brother Steven
The man that I miss

Carry on cruising the crowds at the Catacombs
carry on hustling into the night
Easy way out for the suckers and chickens
But I've lost my mainman, the love of my life

Easy way out for the suckers and chickens
But I've lost my mainman
The love of my life

Steal me a car and a bottle of Teachers
A few dozen downers - I'll go out in style
Goodbye sweet Steven and pretty boy Peter
I'll see you on Easy Street after a while

Goodbye sweet Steven and pretty boy Peter
I'll see you on Easy Street
After a while

Truce, call a truce
Stop all the firing and the fighting
Christmas morning, 1914
What would the good Lord say?

Truce, call a truce
Stop all the shelling and the shooting
Froehliche Weinacht
Kamerad, Freundschaft
Let's all be friends for a days

In the man made hell
In the putrescent smell
In the mines and mud and trenches
The men from therhine crossed over the line
For a truce...
With the Tommies and the Frenchies

But the very next day
There were hand grenades
There was gunfire, gassing and slaughter
As we blasted the Hun
To Kingdome Come
With machine guns, shelling and mortars

It was nice to pretend
We could all live as friends
With the Christmas angels calling
But the dream turned sour
In a matter of hours
And we made it all up in the morning

Truce, call a truce
Stop all the bitching and backbiting
Who'd leave their lover
Or send in the bailiffs
This one day of the year?

Truce, call a truce
Stop all the sackings and the stealing
Who'd rape a schoolgirl
Or cut off someone's pension
And spoil all this Christmas cheer

There's a couple of days when the bashers of gays
Who oppress, arrest and charge us
All leave us alone to return back home
For a truce...
With our mothers and our fathers

But the very next day it's back to the fray
And setting our homes in order
Bashing Lesbian mothers
And underage lovers
Disowning gay sons and daughters

Well it's quaint to pretend
We can love our fellow men
With the Christmas angels calling
But the dream turns sour
In a matter of hours
And they make it all up in the morning

R: Well... good evening and welcome and thankyou for coming - this IS a gay show, you realise? (Camp voice: "Well I didn't for a start") Well you're not getting a refund !! This is a song by Lewis Furey, who is a strange Canadian: somebody sent me an album of his - that was only released in the U.S. - about 3 years ago, I tried to make all my friends listen to it. It had stuff like 'The Hustler's Tango' on it:

"You say you want to rape
rape me b...baby
first you know you've got,
you've got to pay, pay
the match is fixed, set up
set up already
you're gonna wrestle
With an angel..."

If you go
I think you should know
You're closing a door behind you
And if we meet again
Try not to pretend
We lost anything of value

My generosity, generosity
Is fading fast for you, baby
Don't wanna hear 'bout tomorrow
My curiosity, curiosity
Is not gonna be the undoing of me
I'll carry my own tiny sorrow

Like the hawk that yearns to lock
His claws into every sparrow
You're the one that loves to run
The needle through the bone
To the marrow

Twenty lovers in a week
You can get 'em - sure you can
There's lot's of geeks
And every mother one of them
Wants to get lucky
Or maybe you need more than one man
Probably a legion - every one a fan
I'm trying to find it in me
To hope you're happy

So when you go
I feel you oughta know
You're closing a door behind you
And when we meet again
Promise not to pretend
We lost anything of value

TR: This is an East End cha-cha... oh - do you want to... come on in first... refugees from The Coleherne! ah dear, one of those nights...

Fighting with the kids on the fairground
Caravans and TV masts
Generating trucks and Alsatians
I never seen you run so fast
Picking through the litter left afterwards
For .22 shells in the grass
Found a pound note and a keyring
Martin, it's funny them days are past

Saturday flicks at the fleapit
When we had the money to go
Always on the side of the outlaws
And staying for the second show
Bonfires down at the bombsite
And watching the embers glow
Candles and cake in the dugout
Martin, it seems so long ago

Day return to Southend Central
Nanny's little treat on the train
Every year we sat on her blanket
And every year it started to rain
Eating apples off the allotments
And swapping cigarette cards
Lending Fat Freddy's train set
And treading on his restaurant car

Now I don't wanna give up football
And I don't wanna settle down
Maybe there's life after 25
But I don't feel like sticking around
I don't wanna work in a garage
I don't want my dreams to fold
Never want to have to stop laughing
Martin I'm terrified... of getting old

TR: OK...This, this is a song which Charlie Morgan is going to play the drums with his hands on (!) er, it's... it's a gospel song without any God in it - and, er...

We set sail on a Monday
Tuesday was all at sea
Scrubbed the decks on a Wednesday
Thursday locker and key
Friday came to the coastline
Saturday I was ashore
Someday I'll quit this crazy business
And testify the law

Get even, Steven
Go down the line
Come in and get happy
And the sun will shine
Come on the right side
Get off your pride
Come in and be happy
And get satisfied

Met a young girl on a Monday
Tuesday I was in love
Saw her again on a Wednesday
Thursday wasn't enough
Friday I gave her a halfpenny
Saturday sat on her knee
Someday I'm gonna have to tell that girl
You're the only boy for me

Get even, Steven
Go down the line
Come in and get happy
And the sun will shine
Come on the right side
Get off your pride
Come in and be happy
And get satisfied

We made love on a Monday
Tuesday woke up alone
Broke out in a rash on a Wednesday
Thursday I lost a stone
Friday they certified me
Saturday I was in bed
Someday I'll quit this stupid song
And go back home instead

Get even, Steven
Go down the line
Come in and get happy
And the sun will shine
Come on the right side
Get off your pride
Come in and be happy
And get satisfied

You've a certain sartorial eloquence
And a style that's almost all your own
You've got the knack of being so laid back
It's like talking to the Great Unknown
You've got a selfsufficient swept-back hairdo
Pretty certain that you've got it made
Oh, your lifestyle shows in the clothes you chose
Sitting pretty in the Masquerade

Don't you wanna play this game no more
Don't you wanna play no more?
I wouldn't really mind
But you seem so bored
Don't you wanna play no more?

You remain the only mean contender
Though you never meant to lose at all
Down at mouth, yet unsurrounded
Adam Ant before The Fall
Oh when you go, you know I might be lonely
But I'll keep it under close control
Go and get your kicks and we can call it quits
I believe I'm feeling indisposed

Don't you wanna play this game no more
Don't you wanna play no more?
I wouldn't really mind
But you seem so bored
Don't you wanna play no more?

I met him at a party
Just a couple of years ago
He was rather overhearty and ridiculous
But as I'd seen him on the screen
He cast a certain spell
I basked in his attraction
For a couple of hours or so
His manners were a fraction too meticulous
If he was real or not I couldn't tell
But like a silly fool I fell...

Mad about the boy
I know it's stupid but I'm
Mad about the boy
I'm so ashamed of it but must admit
The sleepless nights I've
Had about the boy

On the silver screen
He haunts my foolish heart
In every single scene
Although I'm quite aware
That here and there
Are traces of the cad about the boy

Lord knows I'm not a fool girl
I really shouldn't care
Lord knows I'm not a schoolgirl
In the flurry of a first affair

Will it ever cloy -
This odd diversity of misery and joy
I'm feeling quite insane and young again
And all because I'm
Mad about the boy

It seems a little silly
For a girl of my age and weight
To walk down Picadilly
In a haze of love
It ought to take a good deal more
To get a bad girl down

I ought to have been exempt
For my particular kind of fate
Has taught me such contempt
For every phrase of love
And now I've been and spent
My last half crown
To weep about a painted clown

Mad about the boy
I know it's stupid but I'm
Mad about the boy
He has a gay appeal that makes me feel
There may be something
Sad about the boy

Walking down the street
His eyes look out at me
From people that I meet
I know that quite sincerely
Housman really wrote
'The Shropshire Lad' about the boy

I'm hardly sentimental
Love Isn't so sublime
I have to pay my rental
And I can't afford to waste much time

How I should enjoy -
For him to treat me
As a plaything or a toy
I'd give my all to him
And crawl to him
So help me God I'm
Mad about the boy

It's the same old story all over the world
When a boy meets a boy and a girl meets a girl
We all come together cos we're happy to say
It's a natural fact that it's good to be gay

We've been analysed, ridiculed and driven away
By our elders and betters just for growing up gay
They trampled on our feelings
Till we hid them for shame
Well now 'Glad to be Gay' is the name of the game

Cos it's the same old story all over the world
When a boy meets a boy and a girl meets a girl
We all come together cos we're happy to say
It's a natural fact that it's good to be gay

Don't feel guilty if you're passing for straight
If you wanna be yourself, well it's never too late
People won't mind if you're honest and gay
You might even find they prefer you that way

Cos it's the same old story all over the world
When a boy meets a boy and a girl meets a girl
We all come together cos we're happy to say
It's a natural fact that it's good to be gay

Written for Campaign for Homosexual Equality in 1975 - who pressed up a few hundred copies on their CHEBEL label under title 'Glad To Be Gay'. Later renamed to avoid confusion with the better-known sequel 'Sing If You're Glad To Be Gay'

The British Police are the best in the world
I don't believe one of these stories I've heard
'Bout them spending 3 million to bust up a ring
Of consenting leathermen doing their thing;
It might have been private, where no-one complained
But the judge put an end to their fun & their games
He sentenced the members to four or five years
I can't believe that sort of thing happened here

The liars of Wapping are really the pits
Commissioned by bigots & written by shits
They plaster their pages with bingo & tits
Then add all the scandal and slander that fits
They pick out their victims, destroying their lives
They sneer as they smear as they damn and despise
If it's paedophile teachers or lesbian nuns
If it's filth and it's fiction... it's there in The Sun

And now there's a nightmare
They blame on the gays
It's brutal and lethal and slowly invades
The medical facts are ignored or forgot
By the bigots who think
It's the judgement of God
Attacked by the Vatican, bashed by The Bill
With cheap politicians all making a kill
The message is simple and obvious, please
Just lay off the patients and let's fight the disease

For 21 years now I've fought for the right
For people to love just whoever they like
But the right-on and righteous are out for my blood
Now I live with my kid and a woman I love
Well if gay liberation means freedom for all
A label is no liberation at all
I'm here and I'm queer and I do what I do
And I'm not gonna wear... a straitjacket for you

Mother nature has a way of fighting resistance
Punishing me for an imperfect existence
But in reality this free society
Fears the man who seeks alliance

If I die, it won't solve a great deal
It won't change the way that people feel
I wish to God that I could pray
But I feel he's made me pay
For a life I've been trying to conceal

Oh I don't really mind the pain
My strength for loneliness is getting higher
Unless it starts to rain
I'll keep adding fuel to fire

Up till now I've had nothing to complain about
But now it seems that I've lost
More friends than I can count
Must I face it quite alone
They won't even use the phone
There can be no doubt

Oh I don't really mind the pain
As the media feed off my fire
I don't need their selfish gain
As I watch their readership get higher...

Man could not have been created without flaws
Sure we expected to lose a few wars
Yes I know I'm crying
Well I'm terrified of dying
And we ourselves opened the door

And yes I really mind the pain
My strength for loneliness is getting lower
It may never rain for personally
Research seems to be...
Getting slower

If you're down in London town
And happen to be gay
There's a great information service
Open every day
They'll tell you who and where and when
And how and why and more
On 8-3-double-7, 3-2-4
8-3-double-7, 3-2-4

London Lesbian & Gay Switchboard
0171-837-7324.
From US/Canada:
0011-44-171-837-7324