Rag And Bone

Album: Icky Thump (2007)
  • [Jack White and Meg White]
    Rag and bone!
    Rag and bone!
    Rag and bone!
    Rag and bone!

    [Jack White]
    Meg, look at this place.

    [Meg White]
    What? Woo...

    [Jack White]
    Well, this place is like a mansion!
    It's like a mansion, look at all this stuff!

    [Meg White]
    I dunno...

    [Jack White]
    Look, I see something over there

    [Meg White]
    Woo...

    [Jack White]
    Man...

    Well, could you ever sell it rag and bone?
    Bring out your junk and we'll give it a home
    A broken trumpet or a telephone
    Ah, come on, ah, come on, ah, come on
    Come on and give it to me

    Yeah

    Ah, come on, ah, come on, ah, come on
    Come on and give it to me

    Oh, rag and bone
    Rag and bone

    Ah, come on, ah, come on, ah, come on
    Come on and give it to me

    Oh, looking pretty
    Your pretty little rags and bones

    [Jack White]
    Well, man, look at all this, you don't want it?

    [Meg White]
    Mmm, ooo, I could use that.

    [Jack White]
    You sure you don't want it, man? I could use... take it.
    It's just things you don't want - I can use 'em; Meg can use 'em;
    We can do something with 'em; we'll make something out of 'em,
    Make some money out of 'em at least.

    [Meg White]
    Mmm-hmm, this fits me perfect.
    Give it to me.

    [Jack White]
    Hey, if you ain't gonna use it, just give it to us.
    We'll give it a home.

    Well, have they got something shiny for me?
    Anybody got a Christmas tree?
    Can you party with a toilet seat?
    Ah, jump up, ah, jump up, ah, jump up
    Come on and give it to me

    Rag and bone

    We wanna get it, granny, while it's hot
    You think it's trash, granny, but it's not
    Oh, we'll be taking whatever you got
    Ah, give up, ah, give up, ah, give up
    Come on and give it to me

    Woo!

    Oh, looking pretty
    Your pretty little rags and bones

    [Meg White]
    I saw some stuff in your yard; are you gonna give it to us?

    [Jack White]
    Ah, Meg, don't be rude

    [Meg White]
    Or not?

    [Jack White]
    They might need it.
    If you don't want it, we'll take it.
    If you don't wanna give it to us, we'll keep walking by.
    We'll keep going; we're not tired.
    Got plenty of places to go, lots of homes we ain't been to yet
    On the west side, the south-west side, Middle East, rich house, dog house, outhouse
    Old folks' house, house for unwed mothers, halfway homes, catacombs, twilight zones.
    Look at what techniques turn tables to gramophones.
    So take a last lick of your ice-cream cone
    And lock up what you still wanna own
    But please be kind (take your time)
    And don't rewind (it's fine)...

    All of your pretty
    Your pretty little rags and bones
    Yeah, your pretty little rags and bones

    Ah, jump up, ah, jump up, ah, jump up
    Come on and give it to me

    Oh, your pretty little rags and bones

    Ah, come on, ah, come on, ah, come on
    Come on and give it to us!

    Yeah
    Yeah, yeah
    Oh yeah

    Yeah
    Yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Writer/s: JACK WHITE
    Publisher: Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Comments: 3

  • /alix\ from Pinkerton, MiI love the part when Jacks talking about the different houses they have to go to.

    Got plenty of places to go, lots of homes we ain't been to yet.
    West side, southwest side, middle-east, rich house, dog house, outhouse, old folks house, house for unwed mothers, halfway homes, catacombs, twilight zones.

    I wonder if Jack likes the Twilight Zone?
  • Anna Mullin from Atlanta, GaI love this song and I am glad that Meg gets to talk a little in it, she really has a pretty voice. I alos like it cause it shows they still play around and it's not all buisness, it's cute!
  • Doug from Vancouver, CanadaIn a poem by Yeats called The Circus Animals Desertion the last stanza goes "A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
    Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
    Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
    Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
    I must lie down where all the ladders start
    In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart."
see more comments

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