Shirt of Blue

I loved their harshness and their edginess straight away - and on studying their lyrics soon realised that 'Swill', (Phil Odgers) and Paul Simmons are among the finest songwriters ever to emerge from the UK.

Without a doubt vastly under rated and dare I say it, relatively un-discovered, to a much wider audience and deserve much, much more recognition.

When I first heard 'Shirt of Blue' I was travelling through some county lanes around the Hastings area. I had borrowed a cassette from my drummer and long term best friend Andy Baker.

I was so stunned and intrigued by the song, its feel and its lyrics that I had to stop the car and listen to it several times! It’s not often a song has that much of a dramatic effect on you. There are a few I can mention, songs from New Model Army perhaps, and our very own drummer's old punk band ' Sulphate' a song called 'White' did this to me.

I really enjoy performing ‘Shirt of Blue' and having met and interviewed the Men they couldn't hang a few times can only hope we do the song justice!

(Web Notes by Paul Johnson)

SHIRT OF BLUE

'Hey' there Tommy have you got a new shirt
is it the colour of fine bright blue?
Has your mother sent you up to school?
From the street with a pretty view

Shall we wrestle in the old school yard?
Like the other children do?
We can tear our hands we can scuff our shoes 
And Ill rip that shirt off you 

Oh your shirt of blue
Oh your shirt of blue

(Chorus...)
Maybe Tommy
We grew up to quick
From the fields
Where the flowers grew
From a butterfly stick
To a baton and a brick
You changed your uniform far too soon

Hey there Tommy since you moved away
They've taken our town and they've made it blue
And now there stands a chemical works
Where the cherry orchard grew

And I married Lucy from the back of the class
Who once wrote letters to you?
And we've got kids and we send them up to school
The street with a pretty view

Oh your shirt of blue
Oh your shirt of blue

Chorus...

Hey there Tommy shall we meet again
In the morning wet with dew
Me at the gates of the colliery
And you with your shirt of blue

Shall we wrestle in the muddy patch
like the other poor men do?
We can tear our hands we can scuff our shoes
And I will rip that shirt off you

Oh your shirt of blue
Oh your shirt of blue

Chorus

Chorus to End...

Lyrics written by Paul Simmons
'The Men They Couldn't Hang'
Website: www.tmtch.net