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Rump Up songs by Jane Butters & others
The lyrics of all of Jane's songs are included in a 16 page booklet which comes with the CD - all words and music by Jane Butters unless otherwise stated.
On this page, the songs are listed in the order they were written.
Deep Down Inside Written and finished on June 1st 2002 , after recording “Nose Down.” We went off on our bikes to the north of Scotland and I did it there. The music of the verse of this song is taken from Mozart’s Exultate Jubilate. Tony, “What’s happening?” For I see it. I see it in your eyes. I can’t believe you’d do this. You’ve hurt me before. My own heart can’t take more, For I gave you everything, And remember, we’ve been here before. Now I have nothing, but sadness inside. But….. Every single touch that you made with your hand, Every single print that we made in the sand, Every single time that we went for a ride, Remains in me deep down inside. And now you deceive, you won’t receive One single kiss from me now; But the secrets we kept and the place where we met Remain in me deep down inside. Every single time that I softened your pain, And every single time that we sheltered from rain, And every single time that my arms opened wide, Remains in me deep down inside. But now that you’ve gone, I will use in this song All the feelings to which I was tied, For they certainly won’t and I’ll make sure they don’t Remain in me deep down inside.	Tip to top, we reached Cape Reinga - Northernmost point in New Zealand Fox Glacier
Nobody’s Noticing Me Written while cycling in Provence I’ve seen a rainbow, colours so true, I’ve seen a garden, sprinkled with dew, I’ve seen a woodland, carpeted blue, That’s when I’d think about you. We would wander along, And you’d sing me a song, With our hearts and our hands intertwined, Yet the picture I keep, As I lie half asleep Is only a dream in my mind. Have you heard skylarks high in the sky? Have you heard cuckoos make their reply? Have you heard swallows fly swiftly by? That’s when I’d think about you. Somehow I would be there, To show that I care About all of the things that I see, And the meaning of love, Which you see in a dove Are the things that you’d notice in me. Have you felt swan’s down, soft and so light? Have you felt lilies, their petals so white? Have you felt snowflakes falling at night? That’s when I’d think about you. You’d have eyes that were blue, And a heart that was true, There would always be sunshine to see. Yes, I’d love you so much, You’d ache at my touch, Yet nobody’s noticing me.	Sharing out cherries in the Luberon
Our Love Is Best Of All Written in France Oh did you see him waiting for me, it’s already half past eight? And I meant to be here earlier, I’m never normally late; But I’ve had a tricky day, ’Cos my passport went astray Where do you think he might be now? Yes, I was wondering if he’d take me on a ’plane to see Bayonne, Someone said it would be nicer than a hotel in Saigon; But he mentioned Timbuktu, Where we’d see a cockatoo, Where do you think he might be now? Oh surely someone’s seen him looking for a pretty girl like me, Yes, I’m really quite unique as you can very clearly see; Yes, I’ve got an empty head, And I’m very easily lead, I wonder where he’s got to now? But then I’d like to see a tiger or a lion in Africa, But he says that tigers only roam in parts of India; But I’ve heard about Sudan, And a place they call Bhutan, Where do you think he’s got to now? You see he isn’t very handsome and he isn’t very tall, If you see him sitting down there isn’t very much at all, And despite that he is lame, Yes I love him just the same, I wonder where he’s got to now? I’ve heard some people take a villa when they go to Umbria, Yet they’ve never walked in Scotland or the dales in Cumbria, Yet the happiness they seek, In a few days or a week, Could be in their own back yard. So when I lost my passport maybe ‘twas a blessing in disguise, ‘Cos I knew that he was hoping just for me to realise That no matter where we went, Or the money that we spent, Our love is best of all.	The Kingston Flyer - New Zealand Mont Ventoux - cyclist’s mecca and a favourite for the Tour de France. It’s a 6,000 ft climb
You’ll Find It All With Me Written during the night in our tent I know you always like to be with me, Why don’t you come and ride a bike with me? I’ll show you sun, We’ll have such fun, Why don’t you come with me? If many people put you off and say,“Don’t go!” It’s all because they’re ignorant ’cos they don’t know, How negative, Get positive, Why don’t you come with me? You see, I might decide on Southern France, To Nimes or Nice on the off chance, A cheap return, Is my concern, Why don’t you come with me? Wait until you taste a proper crêpe suzette, A picnic with some cheese inside a french baguette. But just watch out, We’ll eat a lot. You’ll have to come with me. I have a map, some tools, with me, A sleeping bag, and a tent, you’ll see It’s quite a sight, The stars at night, You’ll want to come with me! Take a cycle cape, it could be wet, Might be thunder or the odd tempête, You won’t mind hills, You’ll like the thrills, You’ll want to come with me. But if you want a very special view, You have to work and sweat, I promise you, See Les Barroux, Climb Mont Ventoux, You’ll be addicted too! Why d’you think the Romans built the Pont du Gard? And when you get to Nimes, you’ll see the amphithéâtre, It’s history, It’s mystery, You’ll find it all with me.	Passing Tommy Simpson's grave. The Pont du Gard is the spectacular Roman acqueduct built to transport fresh water to Nimes.
He Lets Me Be I love him so, I’ll have you know, I’ll tell you why, I’ll show you how. For when he cares, He cares with me, And when he shares, He shares with me. Yet when he goes, He knows with me, That while he’s gone, I’ll still be me. And now at last, I’ll tell you why When he comes home, The sun will shine. A pretty girl, By chance he sees, I’ll share with him, And let him be. For when I do The things I do, He sees in me, He lets me be The way I am, For what I am, To be just me To be just me. And when I die, You’ll still know why I loved him so, I loved him so.	The Dunstan Trail Between Queenstown and Glenorchy
Get Cracking ! We had arrived in Nice to find a world championship triathlon taking place. 2000 competitors Pecker up, chin up, come on. Get cracking! Pecker up, chin up. Get Cracking! Even if you’re still in bed, Even if you feel half dead. Come on, get cracking! Would you rather be a snail or a mouse? At least you’d be living in someone’s house. How about a moth or a tiny biting flea? Living on a jumper, but I hope not me! Come on, get cracking! How about a snake hanging on to a tree? Or flying around the garden as a bumble bee? How about the family that’s burrowed into your cake? I’m trying to cheer you up, for Heaven’s sake, Come on, get cracking! And if your head feels a little bit sore, You can still do a little bit more. Come on, get cracking! Can’t you hear the work we’ve put into this song, Look at Tom Finlay all day long Keith and Uncle Jack, just to prove to you the fact. Come on, get cracking! Get out of that bed!	Luberon - Provence The Dunstan Trail
Sometimes In The Middle Of The Night Sometimes in the middle of the night……...came from worrying if I’d make it from.....
Bannockburn to Garston - The Nevis Valley, a 4,000 feet climb
Sometimes in the middle of the night, I worry where my love could be. I shed tears as I try to go to sleep, Knowing he’s so far from me. My worries, they seem to multiply, They magnify throughout my head. That’s why in the middle of the night I worry if he will return. And each day I remember how he was, The feeling of his soft brown hair. Memories, they come flooding back to me, I realise how much I care. If only I could telephone, Could someone tell me where he is. Then I’d write in the middle of the night, And I’d seal it with a loving kiss. And before I try to go to sleep, I sit beside his favourite chair. I picture all the things we used to do, And all the things we used to share. Those moments, they were so magical, The way he mystifies my brain, Nothing ever came between us then, And nothing ever will again. But still as I lie alone at night, I wish that he could be with me. No one knows how lonely it can be, Not knowing when he will return. My worries, I know they multiply, They magnify inside my head. So please, in the middle of the night, Pray with me that he’ll return.	The 25 fords we crossed going up the valley (35kms) Would we find a flat place to pitch the tent? Would I die of cold at night after my skinny dip?
Our encounter with Sheri. Her boyfriend flew tornadoes. He was in the RAF and had been training with the Americans in Arizona. Very aware the Iraq war was about to start, she decided to get away to New Zealand. She was the reason I turned the song into worrying if a soldier would ever return? It was March 2003.	Yes we were in South Island, New Zealand.7,000 sheep.
Keep Up A Very Steady Pace If you climb to the top of a hill, Keep up a very steady pace, Get focused, get into it, dig deep, But keep up a very steady pace. And if you cross a desert in a camel train, Make sure you don’t get left behind. Get focused, get into it, dig deep, But keep up a very steady pace. And if you find you’ve slipped behind, Get into gear, For wherever you are, concentrate hard, And keep up a very steady pace. And if you cross Niagara Falls Walking on a tightrope wire. Get focused, get into it, dig deep, And keep up a very steady pace. And if the Queen invites you for a cup of tea, Make sure you know what you’ve to say. Get focused, get into it, dig deep, Remember not to slurp your tea! And if you find you’ve spilt the jam, Try not to mind. Don’t look at the Queen, it won’t be seen. Don’t draw attention to the jam! And if you have to face a big exam, Make sure you choose your favourite pen. Get focused, get into it, dig deep, And keep up a very steady pace. And if the questions asked are not for you, Remember all the hidden skills you have, Get focused, get into it, dig deep, And keep up a very steady pace. And whether or not you pass or fail, Why should you mind? ’Cos life is out there, all of it to share, So make sure you have a good time. And when you come to the end of your road, Time to take a final bow. Get focused, say it: “Goodbye! I’ve had a pretty good time!” And then they’ll fix you up and lay you down, Tuck you up inside your little box. They’ll be focused, getting you into it, digging deep, Keeping up a very steady pace. But if you think the fun’s all gone, Wow! How you’re wrong! ’Cos the angels are there, taking great care, Keeping up a very steady pace.	Nevis Valley - New Zealand
Bicycling’s What We Do Written on the Col du Turini, high in the hills above Nice If we pitch our tent by a mountain stream Can you imagine the sound? And the birds in the trees And the sun between the leaves Happiness all around. How did we find this place? Here comes the clue……. We have two bicycles And bicycling’s what we do. In the Alps in May, as the fog came down, We went up like birds on a wing. I remember it well, The weather was swell, We never saw a single thing. What is the point? You ask. There is no doubt. Health and our happiness, That’s what it’s all about. Now Montipulchiano is a Tuscan town, That‘s where I met the Count. He invited us to stay, In a very grand way; And this is the tale I recount, He said, “Tonight is our annual ball, Please dance with me.” And by the pale moonlight, By the Mediterranean Sea. In Alsace there are pigs, wild from the woods, One gave us rather a fright. It looked pretty rough, As it huffed and puffed, Then disappeared out of sight. Heh! Ho! And round each bend On a crest of a wave, that’s me. Views down each valley, Never know what you’ll see. We once pitched our tent on an alpine pass At the back of a farmer’s yard. He said, “ Shall we eat, With my Château Lafite?” Then poured out his homebrew instead. Next day we reached the pass, Free-wheeled right down, Sun shining all the way Happiness all around. To Nuwara Eliya in Sri Lanka, With Ivan our trusted guide, Six thousand feet, In tropical heat, No wonder I nearly died. Yet, Heh Ho, here I am, Still with a tale to tell, And that’s where I’ll end this song, And it’s probably just as well.	Early morning mist Kandy - Sri Lanka Top of the Temple of Sigiri looking towards the Nuwara Eliya
Misty Words: Johnny Burke Music: Errol Garner Violin orchestration: Mark Owen
Blue Moon Words: Lorenz Hart Music: Richard Rogers
Love Me, Or Leave Me Words: Gus Khan Music: Walter Donaldson
Don’t Touch Me by Teddy Edwards
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes Words: Otto Harbach Music: Jerome Kern
I’ve Got A Crush On You by George & Ira Gershwin
Lullaby Of Birdland Words: George Weiss Music: George Shearing
Bill Words: P.G. Wodehouse & Oscar Hammerstein II Music: Jerome Kern
These Foolish Things by Harry Link, Jack Strachey & Holt Marvell
They Didn’t Believe Me Words: Herbert Reynolds Music: Jerome Kern
Total running time: 63 mins & 06 secs