The Lost Recordings Album

Artist(s): Jim Croce

Cover Art

Jim Croce The Lost Recordings Cover Art

Tracklist

You Don't Mess Around With Jim

length: 2:56
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce

Uptown got it's hustlers
The bowery got it's bums
42nd street got big Jim walker
He's a pool shootin' son of a gun
Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come
But he stronger than a country hoss
And when the bad folks all get together at night
You know they all call big Jim boss, just because
And they say

You don't tug on superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim

Well outta south Alabama came a country boy
He say I'm lookin' for a man named Jim
I am a pool shootin' boy
My name Willie McCoy
But down home they call me slim
Yeah I'm lookin' for the king of 42nd street
He drivin' a drop top cadillac
Last week he took all my money
And it may sound funny
But I come to get my money back
And everybody say Jack don't you know

And you don't tug on superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim

Well a hush fell over the pool room
Jimmy come boppin' in off the street
And when the cuttin' were done
The only part that wasn't bloody
Was the soles of the big man's feet
Yeah he were cut in in bout a hundred places
And he were shot in a couple more
And you better believe
They sung a different kind of story
When big Jim hit the floor now they say

You don't tug on superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with slim

Yeah, big Jim got his hat
Find out where it's at
And it's not hustlin' people strange to you
Even if you do got a two piece custom made pool cue

Yeah you don't tug on superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with slim

Operator

length: 4:02
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Operator, well could you help me place this call?
See, the number on the matchbook is old and faded
She's living in L. A. with my best old ex-friend Ray
A guy she said she knew well and sometimes hated

Isn't that the way they say it goes?
Well, let's forget all that
And give me the number if you can find it
So I can call just to tell 'em I'm fine and to show
I've overcome the blow, I've learned to take it well
I only wish my words could just convince myself
That it just wasn't real
But that's not the way it feels

Operator, could you help me place this call?
Well, I can't read the number that you just gave me
There's something in my eyes, you know it happens every time
I think about a love that I thought would save me

Isn't that the way they say it goes?
Well, let's forget all that
And give me the number if you can find it
So I can call just to tell 'em I'm fine and to show
I've overcome the blow, I've learned to take it well
I only wish my words could just convince myself
That it just wasn't real
But that's not the way it feels

Operator, let's forget about this call
You see there's no one there I really wanted to talk to
Thank you for your time, ah, you've been so much more than kind
And you can keep the dime

Isn't that the way they say it goes?
Well, let's forget all that
And give me the number if you can find it
So I can call just to tell 'em I'm fine and to show
I've overcome the blow, I've learned to take it well
I only wish my words could just convince myself
That it just wasn't real
But that's not the way it feels

Careful Man

length: 1:50
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
I don't gamble, I don't fight
I don't be hangin' in the bars at night
Yeah I used to be a fighter but
Now I am a wiser man

I don't drink much, I don't smoke
I don't be hardly mess around with no dope
Yeah I used to be a problem but
Now I am a careful man

[Chorus]
But if you used to want to see a commotion
You shoulda seen the man that I used to be
I was trouble in perpetual motion
Trouble with a capital "T"
Stayin' out late, havin' fun
And shot off every single shot in my gun
Yeah I used to be a lover but
Now I'm an older man

[Chorus]

But if you used to want to see a commotion
You shoulda seen the man that I used to be
I was trouble in perpetual motion
Trouble with a capital "T"
Stayin' out late, havin' fun
And shot off every single shot in my gun
Yeah I used to be a terror but
Now I am a tired man
Yeah I used to be a terror but
Now I am a tired man

Rapid Roy

length: 3:02
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Oh rapid Roy that stock car boy
He too much too believe
You know he always got an extra pack of cigarettes
Rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve
He got a tattoo on his arm that say baby
He got another one that just say hey
But every Sunday afternoon he is a dirt track demon
In a '57 Chevrolet

Oh rapid Roy that stock car boy
He's the best driver in the land
He say that he learned to race a stock car
By runnin' shine outta Alabam'
Oh the demolition derby
And the figure eight
Is easy money in the bank
Compared to runnin' from the man
In Oklahoma City
With a five hundred gallon tank

Oh rapid Roy that stock car boy
He too much too believe
You know he always got an extra pack of cigarettes
Rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve
He got a tattoo on his arm that say baby
He got another one that just say hey
And Sunday afternoon he is a dirt track demon
In a '57 Chevrolet

Yeah Roy so cool
That racin' fool he don't know what fear's about
He do a hundred thirty mile an hour
Smilin' at the camera
With a toothpick in his mouth
He got a girl back home
Name of Dixie Dawn
But he got honeys all along the way
And you oughta hear 'em screamin'
For that dirt track demon
In a '57 Chevrolet

Oh rapid Roy that stock car boy
He too much too believe
You know he always got an extra pack of cigarettes
Rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve
He got a tattoo on his arm that say baby
He got another one that just say hey
But every Sunday afternoon he is a dirt track demon
In a '57 Chevrolet

It Doesn't Have to Be That Way

length: 3:01
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Snowy nights and Christmas lights
Icy window panes
Make me wish that we could be
Together again
And the windy winter avenues
Just don't seem the same
And the Christmas carols sound like blues
But the choir is not to blame

[Chorus]
But it doesn't have to be that way
What we had should have never have ended
And I'll be dropping by today
We could easily get it together tonight
It's only right

Crowded stores, the corner Santa Claus
Tinseled afternoons
And the sidewalk bands that play their songs
Slightly out of tune
On the windy winter avenues
There walks a lonely man
And if I told you who he is
Well, I think you'd understand

[Chorus: x2]

Box #10

length: 2:28
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
He gonna make it in the city playin' guitar in the studio
Well he hadn't been there an hour, when he met a Broadway flower
You know she took him for his money and she left him in a cheap hotel
Oh well it's easy for you to see that that country boy is me
Say and how am I ever gonna break the news to the folks back home
Well I was gonna be a great success
Things sure ended up a mess
But in the process I got messed up too

Chorus:
Hello Mamma and Dad I had to call collect
'Cause I ain't got a cent to my name
Well I'm sleepin' in the hotel doorway
And tonight they say it's gonna rain
And if you'd only send me some money
I'll be back on my feet again
Send it in care of the Sunday Mission
Box number ten

Well back in Southern Illinois they're still worryin' 'bout their boy
But this boy's goin' home soon's he get's the fare
Because as soon as I got my bread
I got a pipe upside my head
You know they left me in an alley
Took my money and my guitar, too

Chorus


Speedball Tucker

length: 2:48
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires
Forty foot of overload
A lot of people say that I'm crazy
Because I don't know how to take it slow
I got a broomstick on the throttle
I got her opened up and head right down
Nonstop back to Dallas
Poppin' them West Coast turn-arounds

[Chorus]
And they call me Speedball
Speedball Tucker
Terror of the highways
And all them other truckers
Will tell you that the boy is mad
To be drivin' a rig like that

You know the rain may blow
The snow may snow
And the turnpikes they may freeze
But they don't bother ol' Speedball
He goin' any damn way he please
He got a broomstick on the throttle
To keep his throttle foot a-dancin' round
With a cupful of cold black coffee
And a pocketful of West Coast turn-arounds

[Chorus]

One day I looked into my rear view mirror
And a-comin' up from behind
There was a Georgia State policeman
And a hundred dollar fine
Well he looked me in the eye as he was writin' me up
And said "Driver, you been flyin'"
And "Ninety-five is the route you were on
It was not the speed limit sign"

[Chorus: x2]

Tomorrow's Going to Be a Brighter Day

length: 2:36
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Well, I'm sorry for the things that I told you
But words only go so far
And if I had my way
I would reach into heaven
And I'd pull down a star for a present
And I'd make you a chain out of diamonds
And pearls from a summer sea
But all I can give you is a kiss in the morning
And a sweet apology

Well, I know that it hasn't been easy
And I haven't always been around
To say the right words
Or to hold you in the mornin'
Or to help you when you're down
I know I never showed you much of a good time
But baby things are gonna change
I'm gonna make up for all of the hurt I brought
I'm gonna love away all your pain

And tomorrow's gonna be a brighter day
There's gonna be some changes
Tomorrow's gonna be a brighter day
This time you can believe me
No more cryin' in your lonely room
And no more empty nights
'Cause tomorrow mornin' everything will turn out right

Well, there's something that I've got to tell you
Yes I've got something on my mind
But words come hard
When your lying in my arms
And when I'm looking deep into your eyes
But there's truth and consolation
And what I'm trying to say
Is that nobody ever had a rainbow baby
Until he had the rain

It's gonna, it's gonna, it's gonna be a brighter day
It's gonna, it's gonna, it's gonna be a brighter day
It's gonna, it's gonna, it's gonna be a brighter day
It's gonna be, it's gonna be, it's gonna be a brighter day
It's gonna be, it's gonna be, it's gonna be a brighter day
Come on tomorrow
Come on tomorrow
It's gonna be a brighter day

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown

length: 2:42
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Well the South side of Chicago
Is the baddest part of town
And if you go down there
You better just beware
Of a man named Leroy Brown

Now Leroy more than trouble
You see he stand 'bout six foot four
All the downtown ladies call him "Treetop Lover"
All the men just call him "Sir"

[Chorus]
And it's bad, bad Leroy Brown
The baddest man in the whole damned town
Badder than old King Kong
And meaner than a junkyard dog

Now Leroy he a gambler
And he like his fancy clothes
And he like to wave his diamond rings
In front of everybody's nose
He got a custom Continental
He got an Eldorado too
He got a thirty two gun in his pocket for fun
He got a razor in his shoe

[Chorus]

Now Friday 'bout a week ago
Leroy shootin' dice
And at the edge of the bar
Sat a girl named Doris
And oo that girl looked nice
Well he cast his eyes upon her
And the trouble soon began
Cause Leroy Brown learned a lesson
'Bout messin' with the wife of a jealous man

[Chorus]

Well the two men took to fighting
And when they pulled them off the floor
Leroy looked like a jigsaw puzzle
With a couple of pieces gone

These Dreams

length: 2:34
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Once we were lovers
But somehow things have changed
Now we're just lonely people
Trying to forget each other's names
Now we're just lonely people
Trying to forget each other's names

[Chorus]
What came between us?
Maybe we were just too young to know
But now and then
I feel the same,
And sometimes at night I think
I hear you calling my name
Mm, mm, mm, these dreams
They keep me going these days

Once we were lovers
But that was long ago
We lived together then
And now we do not even say hello
We lived together then
And now we do not even say hello

[Chorus: x2]

New York's Not My Home

length: 2:50
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
Well, things were spinning round me
And all my thoughts were cloudy
And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me

Been in so many places
You know I've run so many races
And looked into the empty faces of the people of the night
And something is just not right

Cause I know that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause, New York's not my home

Though all the streets are crowded
There's something strange about it
I lived there about a year and I never once felt at home

I thought I'd make the big time
I learned a lot of lessons awful quick
And now I'm telling you
That they were not the nice kind

And it's been so long since I have felt fine

That's the reason that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home

That's the reason that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home

Time in a Bottle

length: 2:23
vocal: Jim Croce
composer: Jim Croce
lyricist: Jim Croce
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you

[Chorus]
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

[Chorus]