Album Photo

Hidden Things

RELEASE DATE: 1 May 1992
PRODUCER: Guy Gray (tracks 1, 4), Alan Thorne (tracks 2, 5, 6, 11–13), Gavin Mackillop (tracks 2, 8), Paul Kelly (tracks 3, 7, 9, 14–17), Steve Gordon (track 10), Paul Petran (track 18), Steve Connolly (track 18)
  • 1
    Reckless

    (Written by James Reyne).

    Meet me down by the jetty landing
    Where the pontoons bump and sway
    All the others reading, standing
    As the Manly ferry cuts it's way to Circular Quay
    Hear the captain blow his whistle
    So long you've been away
    I miss our early morning wrestle
    Not a very happy way to start the day
    She don't like that kind of behaviour
    She don't like that kind of behaviour
    Throw down your guns
    Don't be so reckless
    Throw down your guns
    Like Scott in the Antarctic
    Base camp so far away
    Russian subs beneath the Arctic
    Burke and Wills and camels
    Initials on the tree
    She don't like that kind of behaviour
    She don't like that kind of behaviour
    Throw down your guns
    Don't you be so reckless
    Throw down your guns

  • 2
    When I First Met Your Ma
    When I first met your mother
    I was playing in a bar
    She walked in with my girlfriend
    My foolish girlfriend brought her there
    She looked so pretty and dangerous
    As she brushed back her hair
    And I was not the only one
    Taking notice in that bar
    When I first met your ma
     
    When I first kissed your mother
    I was single once again
    We walked through Fitzroy Gardens
    There she took my hand
    We could not stop our kissing
    Then she whispered in my ear
    'Soon you'll get to know me,
    So let's not go too far'
    When I first kissed your ma
     
    Love like a bird flies away
    You'll find out the only way
    Love like a bird flies away
     
    When we first lay together
    Inside her father's house
    We tried so to be quiet
    As we held each other close
    Then her dad came pounding and kicked me out of there
    I walked two miles in Melbourne rain
    I could have walked ten more
    When I first loved your ma
     
    Love like a bird flies away
    You'll find out the only way
    Love like a bird flies away
  • 3
    Sweet Guy Waltz

    In the morning we wreck the bed
    You bring me coffee black and boiling
    Then we start up again and the coffee goes cold
    I wake up drinking from your lips
    Kisses warm and tender
    And I'd give up the world just to see you smile

    One thing I will never understand
    (It's become my problem)
    And it's something that's right out of my hands
    (My hands are clean)
    What makes such a sweet guy turn so mean?

    I went to town with a moody man,
    a handsome Dr. Jekyll
    He was right by my side turning into Mr. Hyde
    I ran for cover but I ran too slow
    I was stitched by strangers
    And they shook their heads that someone could do the things you did

    One thing I will never understand
    (It's become my problem)
    And it's something that's right out of my hands
    (My hands are clean)
    What makes such a sweet guy turn so mean?

    I must be mad, I must be crazy,
    Everyone tells me so
    Everyday I see it coming,
    Now I'm facing the wall, waiting for the blow

    In the morning you kiss my head
    You say it was another
    Now you're down on your knees
    Begging me to forgive you please
    I wake up aching from your touch
    Every muscle tender
    Then I look in your eyes, the way you smile
    And I'm hypnotized

    One thing I will never understand
    (It's become my problem)
    And it's something that's right out of my hands
    (My hands are clean)
    What makes such a sweet guy turn so mean?

  • 4
    Hard Times

    (Written by Steve Connolly).

    Lyrics unavailable. 

  • 5
    Other People’s Houses
    His mother always let him stay up late on Fridays. They would lie in her room together watching Tv. Sometimes she fell asleep before he did and he'd be watching a talk show-one person talking, then another, then all this laughter coming from nowhere. Next thing he knew she would be shaking him gently. Wake up little one, wake up.' Saturday morning. So he'd get up, dress himself, put his shoes on and leave the house without breakfast. Breakfast always came later in other people's houses.
     
    They had to catch two buses to reach their destination and the trip seemed to take forever unless he fell asleep along the way. When they got off at their stop they were in a bigger, brighter neighbourhood. The houses were a long way back from the street and some of them were hidden from view by big hedges. Looking down the street was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope. His mother guided him through this country. She knew exactly where to go. She carried in her bag a big, heavy ring full of keys-all keys to other people's houses.
     
    She would turn one of the keys in the lock. Some of the doors needed two keys. Then presto they were in. The houses had so many things in them yet still so much space. He liked to rub his feet quickly on the thick pile then touch a door knob with one finger and give himself a small electric shock. In the first house they always went straight to the refrigerator. There were things in there he couldn't imagine anyone ever eating-strange looking pastes in jars and horrible concoctions in plastic. His mother would sit him down with a jam sandwich and a glass of milk, then set to work cleaning other people's houses.
     
    And so they would go all day long from one house to another, his mother scrubbing, mopping, vacuuming, cleaning, tidying up, leaving him to his own devices. Often, if no one was home, she would play music on the stereo. There was one record she always put on and sang along to. It had two men and two women on the cover and they all looked sort of blonde except one of the women had dark hair. The stereo flickered like the controls of a spaceship. Other houses were full of books and sometimes he was allowed to take one of the books down from the shelves and open it up. There were books on war and cricket and movie stars. He liked to look at the pictures and pick out big words that he knew. He was very careful with the books. He was very careful with everything in other people's houses.
     
    Many of the houses had other children in them. They would rush right past him into the yard. He'd follow them out back where the back yard was as big as the house, sometimes even bigger. He'd play with them for a while then sit on the steps watching them. He felt slower than the others. There was a girl about his age who lived in a house they went to every second Saturday. Her name was Stephanie. She used to take him everywhere with her, wherever she went, all around the house, even into her room. He'd never see his mother until it was time to leave. One Saturday his mother told him that Stephanie and her family had moved away. Just like that. He still thinks of her now, twenty years later, moving, laughing, sitting down to dinner, making conversation, making love in other people's houses.
  • 6
    Special Treatment
    Grandfather walked this land in chains
    A land he called his own
    He was given another name
    And taken into town
     
    He got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
     
    My father worked a twelve-hour day
    As a stockman on the station
    The very same work but not the same pay
    As his white companions
     
    He got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
     
    Mother and father loved each other well
    But together they could not stay
    They were split up against their will
    Until their dying day
     
    They got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
     
    Mama gave birth to a stranger's child
    A child she called her own
    Strangers came and took away that child
    To a stranger's home
     
    She got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
     
    I never spoke my mother's tongue
    I never knew my name
    I never learnt the songs she sung
    I was raised in shame
     
    I got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
    We got special treatment
    Special treatment
    Very special treatment
  • 7
    Little Decisions
    Hard times are never over
    Trouble always comes
    Still I'm looking forward
     
    To tomorrow when it comes
    I've done a little damage
    To myself, I didn't care
    There are things a man can't manage
    And that's the devil's share
     
    Little decisions are the kind I can make
    Big resolutions are so easy to break
    I don't want to hear about your big decisions
     
    Work a little harder
     
    Keep your mind on death
    Get your things in order 
    Take a deeper breath
     
    If drinking is the problem      
    Then drink a little less
     
    If guilt becomes a burden
    Find a friend, confess
     
    Little decisions are the kind I can make
    Big resolutions are so easy to break
    I don't want to hear about your big decisions
  • 8
    Rally Round The Drum

    (Written by Paul Kelly and Archie Roach).

    Like my brother before me
    I'm a tent boxing man
    Like our daddy before us
    Travelling all around Gippsland
    I woke up one cold morning
    Many miles from Fitzroy
    And slowly it came dawning
    By Billy Leach I was employed

    Rally round the drum boys
    Rally round the drum
    Every day, every night boys
    Rally round the drum

    Hoisting tent pole and tarpaulin
    Billy says 'Now beat the drum'
    Rings out across the showgrounds
    And all the people come
    Then Billy starts a-calling
    'Step right up, step right up, one and all
    Is there anybody game here
    To take on Kid Snowball?'

    Rally round the drum boys
    Rally round the drum
    Every day, every night boys
    Rally round the drum

    Sometimes I fight a gee-man
    Yeah we put on a show
    Sometimes I fight a hard man
    Who wants to lay me low
    Sometimes I get tired
    But I don't ever grouse
    I've got to keep on fighting
    Five dollars every house

    Rally round the drum boys
    Rally round the drum
    Every day, every night boys
    Rally round the drum

    Like my daddy before me
    I stand up and knock 'em down
    Like my brother before me
    I'm weaving in your town

    Yeah, rally round the drum boys
    Rally round the drum
    Got to keep on fighting
    Rally round the drum

  • 9
    Pastures of Plenty

    (Written by Woody Guthrie)

  • 10
    Beggar on the Street of Love
    In my time I have been a rich man giving favours
    All the world at my feet and its many different flavours
    I sucked it all dry
    Now I realise
    I'm a beggar on the street of love
     
    All the rest have no charm
    There's nothing they can give me
    What I want makes me poor
    In this great big world of plenty
    I'm holding out my cup
    Only you can fill it up
    I'm a beggar on the street of love
     
    On my own I'm standing, so patiently
    And my heart keeps calling, calling out for you to see
    You look right through me and you pass me by
     
    Take my hand, lead me to your loving milk and honey
    Cover me, keep me from the night so cold and rainy
    Please, I'm down on my knees
    I'm a beggar on the street of love
  • 11
    Pouring Petrol on a Burning Man
    I've been pumping on the jack
    All my lonely days are stacked
    Now I'm heading straight for you
    I've been working on the wire
    I've been putting out these fires
    Now I'm heading straight for you
     
    Oh my angel
    I'm carrying the can
    Oh my angel
    You're pouring petrol on a burning man
     
    I've been changing dirty oil
    Now my rags are really soiled
    And I'm heading straight for you
    I've been laying it too thick
    I've been cleaning up the slick
    Now I'm heading straight for you
     
    Oh my angel
    I'm carrying the can
    Oh my angel
    You're pouring petrol on a burning man
     
    Every night above my head
    Ever night inside my head
    I’m heading straight for you
     
    Oh my angel
    I'm carrying the can
    Oh my angel

    You're pouring petrol on a burning man

  • 12
    From St Kilda to Kings Cross
    From St Kilda to Kings Cross is thirteen hours on a bus
    I pressed my face against the glass and watched the white lines
    rushing past
    And all around me felt like all inside me
    And my body left me and my soul went running
     
    Have you ever seen Kings Cross when the rain is falling soft?
    I came in on the evening bus, from Oxford Street I cut across
    And if the rain don't fall too hard everything shines
    just like a postcard
    Everything goes on just the same
    Fair-weather friends are the hungriest friends
    I keep my mouth well shut, I cross their open hands
     
    I want to see the sun go down from St Kilda Esplanade
    Where the beach needs reconstruction, where the palm trees
    have it hard
    I'd give you all of Sydney harbour (all that land, all that water)
    For that one sweet promenade
     
  • 13
    Brand New Ways
    I've been giving it all away
    All my precious pearls to swine
    You took my treasures and trashed them
    I was blind
    Now I've got to find
    Some brand new ways
     
    You've been taking it all around
    Just like a little honey bee
    You took your honey pot and jammed it
    You did me wrong
    Now the time has come
    For brand new ways
     
    Yes I heard your explanations
    And I swallowed all your lies
    I didn't know I could be so foolish
    I never saw it in your eyes
    I’ve been hanging on much too long
    I've been dangling on a thin, thin thread
    Well I'd be better off dead and buried
    For all time
    Unless I can find
    Some brand new ways
    Got to find
    Some brand new ways
  • 14
    Rock ‘n’ Soul

    (Written by Jon Schofield).

    Lyrics unavailable.

  • 15
    Yil Lull

    (Written by Joe Geia).

    Lyrics unavailable.

  • 16
    Bradman

    Sydney, 1926, this is the story of a man
    Just a kid in from the sticks, just a kid with a plan
    St George took a gamble, played him in first grade
    Pretty soon that young man showed them how to flash the blade
    And at the age of nineteen he was playing for the State
    From Adelaide to Brisbane the runs did not abate
    He hit 'em hard, he hit 'em straight

    He was more than just a batsman
    He was something like a tide
    He was more than just one man, he could take on any side
    They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

    A team came out from England
    Wally Hammond wore his felt hat like a chief
    All through the summer of '28, '29 they gave the greencaps no relief
    Some reputations came to grief
    They say the darkest hour is right before the dawn
    And in the hour of greatest slaughter the great avenger is being born
    But who then could have seen the shape of things to come?
    In Bradman's first test he went for eighteen and for one
    They dropped him like a gun
    Now big Maurice Tate was the trickiest of them all
    And a man with a wisecracking habit
    But there's one crack that won't stop ringing in his ears
    'Hey Whitey, that's my rabbit'
    Bradman never forgot it

    He was more than just a batsman
    He was something like a tide
    More than just one man, he was a match for any side
    Fathers took their sons' cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

    England 1930 and the seed burst into flower
    All of Jackson's grace failed him, it was Bradman was the power
    He murdered them in Yorkshire, he danced for them in Kent
    He laughed at them in Leicestershire; Leeds was an event
    Three hundred runs he took and rewrote all the books
    That really knocked those gents
    The critics could not comprehend this nonchalant phenomenon
    'Why this man is a machine' they said 'Even his friends say he isn't human'
    Even friends have to cut something

    He was more than just a batsman He was something like a tide
    More than just one man, he was half the side
    Fathers took their sons' cause fortune used to hide in the of his hand

    Summer 1932 and Captain Douglas had a plan
    When Larwood bowled to Bradman it was more than man to man
    And staid Adelaide nearly boiled over as rage ruled over sense
    When Oldfield hit the ground they nearly jumped the fence
    Now Bill Woodfull was as fine a man as ever went to wicket
    And the bruises on his body that day showed that he could stick it
    But to this day he's still quoted and only he could wear it
    'There are two sides out there today and only one of them’s playing cricket'
    He was longer than a memory, bigger than a town
    His feet they used to sparkle and he always kept them on the ground
    Fathers took their sons who never lost the sound of the roar of the grandstand

    Now shadows grow longer and there's so much more yet to be told
    But we're not getting any younger, so let the part tell the whole
    Now the players all wear colours, the circus is in town
    I no longer can go down there, down to that sacred ground

    He was more than just a batsman
    He was something like a tide
    More than just one man, he was half the bloody side
    They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand
     

  • 17
    Ghost Town

    Today I thought I saw you
    Standing on the corner
    I was just about to call your name, I nearly touched her
    Then she turned and suddenly it all came crashing down
    Just my imagination playing tricks in ghost town

    This morning I lay sleeping
    I heard soft footsteps creeping
    Standing right beside me at my bed I felt your breathing
    You said 'Daddy can I come inside? It's cold down in the ground'
    The sun came in, I woke up hard and empty in ghost town

    Now I wander everywhere
    Talking to the air
    And every day just like the day before in countless numbers
    And every night the curtain falls upon the day gone down
    And every single town that I pass through is a ghost town

     

  • 18
    Elly

    (Written by Kev Carmody)