White Dots ( 2019 Sib Records)
No child when I’m gone
to pass on to her own
a kind of holding,
a kind of feeding,
a kind of whispering
bad dreams away.
No child to remember my smell,
to retell the tales
I had to tell,
so I write it all down
and I thread in a tune,
like a prisoner
scratching obscenities
on a prison wall
in futile rebellion,
and I rant within four walls
amidst the cacophony -
not to raise my voice
above the din -
just to join in.
I heard someone say
just the other day
on the radio,
or in a film,
or somewhere,
that when it comes to the end
all you’ve got
is where you came from.
A summer’s day 1968 or 9?
Sitting on a swing,
singing up to the sky,
spitting stars
and watching them fall and glisten on my thigh.
Gillian Dubber’s grandmother
is cleaning their upstairs windows,
she waves to me
a fat-armed, dusty wave.
In the kitchen
my mother boils potatoes,
hot potatoes
on a hot summer’s day
for my father’s dinner,
we called it dinner even though
it was during the day.
He rides home on his bicycle
from the factory.
I run in and clamber on his knee,
he asks if we’ve been watching
Andy Pandy and Loppy Loo
on TV?
My mother tells him,
"we’ve been dancing
in the kitchen
to our favourite song",
by Engelbert Humperdinck.
Time to go.
He lets me ride as far
as the curve in the road,
holding me tight
on the white
leather saddle,
then lifts me down and rides away
and I run back to my swing
and continue to sing,
“I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.”
No child to remember my smell,
to retell the tales
I had to tell
so, I write it all down
and I thread in a tune,
like a prisoner
scratching obscenities
on a prison wall
in futile rebellion,
and I rant within four walls
amidst the cacophony -
not to raise my voice
above the din -
just to join in.
“I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.
I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.”
to pass on to her own
a kind of holding,
a kind of feeding,
a kind of whispering
bad dreams away.
No child to remember my smell,
to retell the tales
I had to tell,
so I write it all down
and I thread in a tune,
like a prisoner
scratching obscenities
on a prison wall
in futile rebellion,
and I rant within four walls
amidst the cacophony -
not to raise my voice
above the din -
just to join in.
I heard someone say
just the other day
on the radio,
or in a film,
or somewhere,
that when it comes to the end
all you’ve got
is where you came from.
A summer’s day 1968 or 9?
Sitting on a swing,
singing up to the sky,
spitting stars
and watching them fall and glisten on my thigh.
Gillian Dubber’s grandmother
is cleaning their upstairs windows,
she waves to me
a fat-armed, dusty wave.
In the kitchen
my mother boils potatoes,
hot potatoes
on a hot summer’s day
for my father’s dinner,
we called it dinner even though
it was during the day.
He rides home on his bicycle
from the factory.
I run in and clamber on his knee,
he asks if we’ve been watching
Andy Pandy and Loppy Loo
on TV?
My mother tells him,
"we’ve been dancing
in the kitchen
to our favourite song",
by Engelbert Humperdinck.
Time to go.
He lets me ride as far
as the curve in the road,
holding me tight
on the white
leather saddle,
then lifts me down and rides away
and I run back to my swing
and continue to sing,
“I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.”
No child to remember my smell,
to retell the tales
I had to tell
so, I write it all down
and I thread in a tune,
like a prisoner
scratching obscenities
on a prison wall
in futile rebellion,
and I rant within four walls
amidst the cacophony -
not to raise my voice
above the din -
just to join in.
“I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.
I love Jennifer Eccles,
I know she loves me.”
5 o’clock on a Wednesday evening,
snow’s been falling hard,
it’s freezing.
On platform 12 they queue,
like the English do,
but the mood’s turned black
just like the snow
at the side of the track,
they want to know
the reason for the train’s delay
but no one leaves,
they’re too afraid
they’ll lose their place.
Finally, someone comes
with the news:
the driver’s gone
without a trace,
without a clue.
'My name is Joseph
but I can’t be your driver today.
Gonna put on my best dress,
my highest heels,
take my time with the face.
Do you know how good it feels?
Gonna paint
this grey town red,
gonna paint
these grey skies red.
Today was more than I could bear,
the rush, the cold, the dirty air,
the forming of that endless queue,
like the English do.
Today I just needed to recall
what it’s like to feel
beautiful.
What it feels like
to light up a room,
to take some glamour
from the gloom
and fill the night
with Georgia Blue.
Then feel in her wake
a calm descend,
as her flower fades
and the music ends.
My name is Joseph
but I can’t be your driver today.
Gonna put on my best dress,
my highest heels,
take my time with the face.
Do you know how good it feels?
Gonna paint
this grey town red,
gonna paint
these grey skies red.'
snow’s been falling hard,
it’s freezing.
On platform 12 they queue,
like the English do,
but the mood’s turned black
just like the snow
at the side of the track,
they want to know
the reason for the train’s delay
but no one leaves,
they’re too afraid
they’ll lose their place.
Finally, someone comes
with the news:
the driver’s gone
without a trace,
without a clue.
'My name is Joseph
but I can’t be your driver today.
Gonna put on my best dress,
my highest heels,
take my time with the face.
Do you know how good it feels?
Gonna paint
this grey town red,
gonna paint
these grey skies red.
Today was more than I could bear,
the rush, the cold, the dirty air,
the forming of that endless queue,
like the English do.
Today I just needed to recall
what it’s like to feel
beautiful.
What it feels like
to light up a room,
to take some glamour
from the gloom
and fill the night
with Georgia Blue.
Then feel in her wake
a calm descend,
as her flower fades
and the music ends.
My name is Joseph
but I can’t be your driver today.
Gonna put on my best dress,
my highest heels,
take my time with the face.
Do you know how good it feels?
Gonna paint
this grey town red,
gonna paint
these grey skies red.'
Pain all packed up
in a rucksack,
I arrive at the airport.
You pick me up
and we drive to the mountains
to walk.
I say,
'You lead,
I will follow.'
Just for one week,
let me follow.
In a blue sky
we ride high
to the start.
Things I don’t need
I leave behind in the van.
And we walk.
White rock above
below green meadows,
not another soul
just a few rebeccos.
I steam ahead,
you still lead,
I follow,
angel mine.
You give time
to those that we meet on the way
a space to have their say:
the mother of the hotel owner,
she’d named Lover,
heats up coffee for me
in her kitchen
as she tells you her news.
As the days unfold
and my story is told,
you listen,
you lead,
I follow,
angel mine.
in a rucksack,
I arrive at the airport.
You pick me up
and we drive to the mountains
to walk.
I say,
'You lead,
I will follow.'
Just for one week,
let me follow.
In a blue sky
we ride high
to the start.
Things I don’t need
I leave behind in the van.
And we walk.
White rock above
below green meadows,
not another soul
just a few rebeccos.
I steam ahead,
you still lead,
I follow,
angel mine.
You give time
to those that we meet on the way
a space to have their say:
the mother of the hotel owner,
she’d named Lover,
heats up coffee for me
in her kitchen
as she tells you her news.
As the days unfold
and my story is told,
you listen,
you lead,
I follow,
angel mine.
You tell me
conspiratorially
about your latest affair,
with no mention or care
for her.
I find I’m the foil to avoid
your just-in-case date,
his clear distress you ignore,
as we walk through the door.
We can find
different places
to hide away our mistakes.
We can be blind
to the clues
to our truths.
Some wounds cut so deep,
they’ve got to dig their way down,
till they find their ease to sleep,
but they leave scattered behind
tell-tale traces.
Arrogance sublime,
you suggest
he’s more my kind.
I decline.
We can find
different places
to hide away our mistakes.
We can be blind
to the clues
to our truths.
conspiratorially
about your latest affair,
with no mention or care
for her.
I find I’m the foil to avoid
your just-in-case date,
his clear distress you ignore,
as we walk through the door.
We can find
different places
to hide away our mistakes.
We can be blind
to the clues
to our truths.
Some wounds cut so deep,
they’ve got to dig their way down,
till they find their ease to sleep,
but they leave scattered behind
tell-tale traces.
Arrogance sublime,
you suggest
he’s more my kind.
I decline.
We can find
different places
to hide away our mistakes.
We can be blind
to the clues
to our truths.
Goodbye bonnie boy,
it’s time to go.
I can’t keep you
in my heart
when we are apart,
no memory of tender love
to hold me
in the dark.
I have searched a lifetime
for your love
and I have longed a lifetime
not to feel
I have to leave.
You take my hand
in your hand
but you don’t hold tight;
you take my love
in the warm night
but you let it grow cold
in the daylight.
Goodbye bonnie boy,
it’s time to go.
I can’t keep you
in my heart
when we are apart,
no memory of tender love
to hold me
in the dark.
it’s time to go.
I can’t keep you
in my heart
when we are apart,
no memory of tender love
to hold me
in the dark.
I have searched a lifetime
for your love
and I have longed a lifetime
not to feel
I have to leave.
You take my hand
in your hand
but you don’t hold tight;
you take my love
in the warm night
but you let it grow cold
in the daylight.
Goodbye bonnie boy,
it’s time to go.
I can’t keep you
in my heart
when we are apart,
no memory of tender love
to hold me
in the dark.
He logs on
before he puts the kettle on,
just to see,
'who’s been checking me?'
He hopes there might be a message
to lighten the day?
Not this time,
but he’ll make
the best of things anyway.
Oozes charm
as friends arrive arm in arm,
he serves up one of his specials.
He’s so understanding
when friends don’t call.
He knows it gets harder
for them to fit him in
when they’ve got kids.
'To quote Frank,
regrets I’ve got a few,
maybe there’s been
a little too much of my way?
But I’ve got this far
and I’ve still got hair,
if you’re looking for love
as you walk down the aisle
of the supermarket?
Sunday morning shopping for one?
As you sip latte in Munson’s café
with pain au chocolat?
It could be
sweet.'
before he puts the kettle on,
just to see,
'who’s been checking me?'
He hopes there might be a message
to lighten the day?
Not this time,
but he’ll make
the best of things anyway.
Oozes charm
as friends arrive arm in arm,
he serves up one of his specials.
He’s so understanding
when friends don’t call.
He knows it gets harder
for them to fit him in
when they’ve got kids.
'To quote Frank,
regrets I’ve got a few,
maybe there’s been
a little too much of my way?
But I’ve got this far
and I’ve still got hair,
if you’re looking for love
as you walk down the aisle
of the supermarket?
Sunday morning shopping for one?
As you sip latte in Munson’s café
with pain au chocolat?
It could be
sweet.'
You tried
but it could never be
the love
that makes any space feel
home.
So did you throw it away?
Did you think it the only way?
You see each detail before you
with a clarity
only loss can bring.
Connection to the world
you no longer have
makes a conversation
with a child
or a stranger
into something precious,
something like love.
Later.
Later.
Just when you think
that good enough
really is good enough,
something fresh
and new
comes.
Today,
why not let a little magic happen?
Today,
why push love away?
No need today
those games hurting has you play.
Today,
why not let a little magic?
but it could never be
the love
that makes any space feel
home.
So did you throw it away?
Did you think it the only way?
You see each detail before you
with a clarity
only loss can bring.
Connection to the world
you no longer have
makes a conversation
with a child
or a stranger
into something precious,
something like love.
Later.
Later.
Just when you think
that good enough
really is good enough,
something fresh
and new
comes.
Today,
why not let a little magic happen?
Today,
why push love away?
No need today
those games hurting has you play.
Today,
why not let a little magic?
Solitary man
sitting by your caravan all day,
watching people passing through
or stopping for a longer stay.
Pulling up
on the faded patch of grass
opposite you,
pegging out their lives,
in tidy piles,
the way that campers do.
You observe evening strolls,
dinner plates in plastic bowls,
washed up in communal sinks
all lined up in a row.
A couple’s tensions rise,
you wave at their child
who blinks at you and smiles.
The woman with them
tries to hide
private grief
that swells inside.
Caravan man,
who are you waiting for?
What are you hoping for,
sitting there
by your door?
Is it some lover
who promised to stop by
to renew acquaintances
throughout the night?
Are you the favourite uncle
of some grande famille?
You never married
but you still enjoy la vie.
Caravan man,
who are you waiting for?
What are you hoping for,
sitting there
by your door?
sitting by your caravan all day,
watching people passing through
or stopping for a longer stay.
Pulling up
on the faded patch of grass
opposite you,
pegging out their lives,
in tidy piles,
the way that campers do.
You observe evening strolls,
dinner plates in plastic bowls,
washed up in communal sinks
all lined up in a row.
A couple’s tensions rise,
you wave at their child
who blinks at you and smiles.
The woman with them
tries to hide
private grief
that swells inside.
Caravan man,
who are you waiting for?
What are you hoping for,
sitting there
by your door?
Is it some lover
who promised to stop by
to renew acquaintances
throughout the night?
Are you the favourite uncle
of some grande famille?
You never married
but you still enjoy la vie.
Caravan man,
who are you waiting for?
What are you hoping for,
sitting there
by your door?
When the rain
ceases to fall,
when the birds
no longer call,
when the spring
fails to return,
when the sun
declines to shine,
when the stars
decide to hide.
That’s when
I’ll stop loving you;
that’s when
there’ll be
no more living to do.
When the tide
curbs its rise,
when blue bows out
from the skies,
when the moon
dulls its glow,
when the flower
shuns the light,
when the dawn
draws out the night.
That’s when
I’ll stop loving you;
that’s when
there’ll be
no more living to do.
This is a love song to you,
many years overdue,
it is all I can do.
This is a love song to you,
from a heart that is true,
it is all I can do
love.
ceases to fall,
when the birds
no longer call,
when the spring
fails to return,
when the sun
declines to shine,
when the stars
decide to hide.
That’s when
I’ll stop loving you;
that’s when
there’ll be
no more living to do.
When the tide
curbs its rise,
when blue bows out
from the skies,
when the moon
dulls its glow,
when the flower
shuns the light,
when the dawn
draws out the night.
That’s when
I’ll stop loving you;
that’s when
there’ll be
no more living to do.
This is a love song to you,
many years overdue,
it is all I can do.
This is a love song to you,
from a heart that is true,
it is all I can do
love.
Paris Metro
on a Sunday morning.
Two guys from South America
play trumpet and tuba
to tracks from a speaker,
strapped to the back
of a two-wheeled shopper.
Mexico City,
two o’clock in the morning.
Traffic lights,
and the night
is lit up by flames of fire blown
from the mouth of a boy
while his friend
tries to clean
the taxi driver’s windscreen.
And there’s not a lot
between us,
oh no,
thin line.
Feels like
I’ve been travelling
a lifetime -
transit eternal -
never going home.
on a Sunday morning.
Two guys from South America
play trumpet and tuba
to tracks from a speaker,
strapped to the back
of a two-wheeled shopper.
Mexico City,
two o’clock in the morning.
Traffic lights,
and the night
is lit up by flames of fire blown
from the mouth of a boy
while his friend
tries to clean
the taxi driver’s windscreen.
And there’s not a lot
between us,
oh no,
thin line.
Feels like
I’ve been travelling
a lifetime -
transit eternal -
never going home.
White dots
on my spectacles,
where the tears
have been caught
and dried,
as you talk.
I watch your face
as you tell me lies.
Do you think
I can’t read
your eyes
as you talk?
In a hotel room
secretly you killed
whatever love lingered still.
Overlooking trees,
you freed
memory of me.
In a hotel room
you made new love
grow.
You don’t know
I know,
as you talk.
After all the pain
and all the tears,
a battle of wills
that has raged
for years,
we’re sitting in my car,
that is actually yours,
in the car park,
outside your work.
Feels like I’m clinging
to the kerb
as you disregard
our world.
Lying to my face
about your affair,
crying at the thought
of my leaving you there
in the house
meant to be
the start
of all our dreams.
If you’re right to say,
'Just get on with it now,'
you’re not right to say
I don’t know how it feels
to be alone.
White dots
on my spectacles,
where the tears
have been caught
and dried,
as you talk.
on my spectacles,
where the tears
have been caught
and dried,
as you talk.
I watch your face
as you tell me lies.
Do you think
I can’t read
your eyes
as you talk?
In a hotel room
secretly you killed
whatever love lingered still.
Overlooking trees,
you freed
memory of me.
In a hotel room
you made new love
grow.
You don’t know
I know,
as you talk.
After all the pain
and all the tears,
a battle of wills
that has raged
for years,
we’re sitting in my car,
that is actually yours,
in the car park,
outside your work.
Feels like I’m clinging
to the kerb
as you disregard
our world.
Lying to my face
about your affair,
crying at the thought
of my leaving you there
in the house
meant to be
the start
of all our dreams.
If you’re right to say,
'Just get on with it now,'
you’re not right to say
I don’t know how it feels
to be alone.
White dots
on my spectacles,
where the tears
have been caught
and dried,
as you talk.
Lemon (Copyright 2008 Sib Records)
I’ve been a bitch today,
took it all out on you
in my usual way.
I took each word you said,
each thing you did
and twisted it
to my peculiar way
of pushing you far away.
Rolled up in a ball,
hating it all
face to the wall,
don’t look at me.
Don’t understand.
Don’t hold out your hand.
How can I say
at the end of today
I love you?
Here we go again,
at least you can call me dependable.
Count on me to tear it apart,
put it all down.
throw it all back in your face
and your heart.
Rolled up in a ball,
hating it all,
face to the wall,
don’t look at me.
Don’t understand,
don’t hold out your hand.
How can I say
at the end of today?
After this day?
How can I say
at the end of today
I love you?
took it all out on you
in my usual way.
I took each word you said,
each thing you did
and twisted it
to my peculiar way
of pushing you far away.
Rolled up in a ball,
hating it all
face to the wall,
don’t look at me.
Don’t understand.
Don’t hold out your hand.
How can I say
at the end of today
I love you?
Here we go again,
at least you can call me dependable.
Count on me to tear it apart,
put it all down.
throw it all back in your face
and your heart.
Rolled up in a ball,
hating it all,
face to the wall,
don’t look at me.
Don’t understand,
don’t hold out your hand.
How can I say
at the end of today?
After this day?
How can I say
at the end of today
I love you?
A slice of dusty land,
houses costing millions,
fences all around.
Men in uniform
to keep out those not rich enough,
don’t drive cars big enough,
to keep out those
not white enough.
Learn enough words
to get what you need,
just enough to get a good deal,
no one can take you for a ride.
You don’t want them
getting too close,
you don’t know
what these people are like,
only mix with your own.
And I hear you say,
” Well, take a look
at what is happening at home.
It’s rare to hear English
spoken on the street. “
And I hear you say,
” Why should we open our doors
to every soul that comes begging?
We’ve come to the sun
to get away from all that,
thank you.”
You’ve come to the sun
to get away from all that.
You’re buying the sun
to get away from all that.
Out here on the balcony
watching this toy town
go right up in front of me,
get me out of here.
Out here on the balcony
people talking money
but not to me.
I don’t belong
here.
Beautiful boys
are told to work all day
build bigger, build better,
that’s the way.
Brown arms and backs
reach up to the sky,
pile the bricks up, way up high
to put in a window right at the top
so the lady can tell you
back down in the shop,
” No one can see the sea
better than you.
Exclusively yours,
a room with a view!”
Out here on the balcony,
watching this toy town
go right up in front of me,
get me out of here.
Out here on the balcony
people talking money
but not to me.
I don’t belong
here.
houses costing millions,
fences all around.
Men in uniform
to keep out those not rich enough,
don’t drive cars big enough,
to keep out those
not white enough.
Learn enough words
to get what you need,
just enough to get a good deal,
no one can take you for a ride.
You don’t want them
getting too close,
you don’t know
what these people are like,
only mix with your own.
And I hear you say,
” Well, take a look
at what is happening at home.
It’s rare to hear English
spoken on the street. “
And I hear you say,
” Why should we open our doors
to every soul that comes begging?
We’ve come to the sun
to get away from all that,
thank you.”
You’ve come to the sun
to get away from all that.
You’re buying the sun
to get away from all that.
Out here on the balcony
watching this toy town
go right up in front of me,
get me out of here.
Out here on the balcony
people talking money
but not to me.
I don’t belong
here.
Beautiful boys
are told to work all day
build bigger, build better,
that’s the way.
Brown arms and backs
reach up to the sky,
pile the bricks up, way up high
to put in a window right at the top
so the lady can tell you
back down in the shop,
” No one can see the sea
better than you.
Exclusively yours,
a room with a view!”
Out here on the balcony,
watching this toy town
go right up in front of me,
get me out of here.
Out here on the balcony
people talking money
but not to me.
I don’t belong
here.
The leaves on the trees
blew away long ago,
polite guests,
they always know when to go.
There’s frost on the ground
and the grass makes a sound
like the icing that breaks
when you cut Christmas cake.
It’s the end of the year
but there’s not that much cheer
around here.
Walking through fields
the mud sticks to my heels
and I’m praying that dog,
who I’m told’s only playing,
won’t jump up and leave
his saliva on my sleeve
to dry like the tears
from my own sticky fears.
It’s the end of the year
but there’s not that much cheer
around here.
It’s the end of December.
I’ve no idea
where we go from here
but the evenings
are getting brighter
each day.
Ladadadada.
blew away long ago,
polite guests,
they always know when to go.
There’s frost on the ground
and the grass makes a sound
like the icing that breaks
when you cut Christmas cake.
It’s the end of the year
but there’s not that much cheer
around here.
Walking through fields
the mud sticks to my heels
and I’m praying that dog,
who I’m told’s only playing,
won’t jump up and leave
his saliva on my sleeve
to dry like the tears
from my own sticky fears.
It’s the end of the year
but there’s not that much cheer
around here.
It’s the end of December.
I’ve no idea
where we go from here
but the evenings
are getting brighter
each day.
Ladadadada.
I’m not lonely.
I’d just forgotten
my own name.
In this strange place
I look in the mirror
I don’t recognise my face.
In this strange place
I’ve been looking for something
I might recognise.
Don’t get me wrong
I wish you well,
there is a place for everyone
but anyone can see
I don’t belong
and so I’m
leaving today.
Hey, hey hey,
oh, oh, oh,
you won’t miss me
because you never knew me.
I’m not lonely
I’d just forgotten my own name.
In this strange place
everything I believed in
thrown back into my face.
In this strange place
I’ve been living inside myself,
perfect disguise.
But this is wrong,
this will never be my song,
any fool could see
I don’t belong
and so I’m
leaving today.
Hey, hey hey,
oh, oh, oh,
you won’t miss me
because you never knew me
in this strange place.
I’d just forgotten
my own name.
In this strange place
I look in the mirror
I don’t recognise my face.
In this strange place
I’ve been looking for something
I might recognise.
Don’t get me wrong
I wish you well,
there is a place for everyone
but anyone can see
I don’t belong
and so I’m
leaving today.
Hey, hey hey,
oh, oh, oh,
you won’t miss me
because you never knew me.
I’m not lonely
I’d just forgotten my own name.
In this strange place
everything I believed in
thrown back into my face.
In this strange place
I’ve been living inside myself,
perfect disguise.
But this is wrong,
this will never be my song,
any fool could see
I don’t belong
and so I’m
leaving today.
Hey, hey hey,
oh, oh, oh,
you won’t miss me
because you never knew me
in this strange place.
The wind is howling,
the trees are cowering,
there’s no chance of working today.
Outside the door
it’s minus four,
I think we should stay home today.
Falling,
snow’s falling.
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything that it should?
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything?
Spring’s still sleeping,
summer’s keeping
its secrets all locked away
but there’s wood indoors
to last till it thaws
there’s no more to do now
but wait.
Falling,
snow’s falling.
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything that it should?
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything?
the trees are cowering,
there’s no chance of working today.
Outside the door
it’s minus four,
I think we should stay home today.
Falling,
snow’s falling.
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything that it should?
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything?
Spring’s still sleeping,
summer’s keeping
its secrets all locked away
but there’s wood indoors
to last till it thaws
there’s no more to do now
but wait.
Falling,
snow’s falling.
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything that it should?
Could this be good?
Could this be
everything?
I watch you watching me,
I watch you look me up and down.
Do you think that I don't see?
Do you think that I don't see
your frown?
Is my hair out of place?
Is there food on my face?
Do my clothes not quite fit?
Did I walk in some shit?
Do I not look like you?
God forbid
I should try to live,
I should try the best for my kids.
God forbid
I should want more
than what I had before
My kids go to the school
where your kids
make all the rules.
They've learnt their lesson well:
keep your head down,
never tell
when they stand on your lace,
when they spit in your face,
when they steal off you,
in the dinner queue,
when they don't want you.
God forbid
I should try to live,
I should try the best for my kids.
God forbid
I should want more
than what I had before,
that I might be
free.
That I might be
me.
Here's the church,
here's the steeple.
Open the door,
there's the right kind
of people.
I watch you look me up and down.
Do you think that I don't see?
Do you think that I don't see
your frown?
Is my hair out of place?
Is there food on my face?
Do my clothes not quite fit?
Did I walk in some shit?
Do I not look like you?
God forbid
I should try to live,
I should try the best for my kids.
God forbid
I should want more
than what I had before
My kids go to the school
where your kids
make all the rules.
They've learnt their lesson well:
keep your head down,
never tell
when they stand on your lace,
when they spit in your face,
when they steal off you,
in the dinner queue,
when they don't want you.
God forbid
I should try to live,
I should try the best for my kids.
God forbid
I should want more
than what I had before,
that I might be
free.
That I might be
me.
Here's the church,
here's the steeple.
Open the door,
there's the right kind
of people.
Are you hung over too?
Should we talk over
the things we said before today?
I didn't sleep, did you?
I didn't know what to do
at four this morning.
Do you want tea?
Or do you want lemon?
It's almost eleven,
we shouldn't waste the day.
I'm too tired
to throw this blame around
and watch it bounce around
off the wall.
I can't fight you anymore,
I either stay
or walk away.
How bad does it have to be
before you see
what's really going on here?
I don't know the reason why
love becomes
a convenient lie.
I'm too tired
to throw this blame around
and watch it bounce around
off the wall.
I can't fight you anymore,
I either stay
or walk away.
Should we talk over
the things we said before today?
I didn't sleep, did you?
I didn't know what to do
at four this morning.
Do you want tea?
Or do you want lemon?
It's almost eleven,
we shouldn't waste the day.
I'm too tired
to throw this blame around
and watch it bounce around
off the wall.
I can't fight you anymore,
I either stay
or walk away.
How bad does it have to be
before you see
what's really going on here?
I don't know the reason why
love becomes
a convenient lie.
I'm too tired
to throw this blame around
and watch it bounce around
off the wall.
I can't fight you anymore,
I either stay
or walk away.
Outside this window’s the street
where I’ve always lived,
not many faces now I know.
The sun is shining
but I’m not going outside,
the garden reminds me
of Freddy.
And the flowers make me cry.
I remember how he tried
to make them bloom
beautiful for me.
And the wind sounds like a sigh
when it sets the leaves
of the laburnum tree
to flight.
I’m getting up much later
than before,
sometimes I don’t dress.
Not like my Freddy,
breakfast at 8, dinner at 12, tea at 5,
a little something nice at 9.
Oh my friends are very kind,
we always drink red wine
when they take me out
to lunch at the club.
They tell me,
“Eve, you know it’s time.
Eve, you’ve got to fight for this life,
for a little peace of mind.”
I mustn’t take up more of your time,
you’re very busy, so very busy,
I know.
Before you go,
could you help me dear?
I can’t do things like I used to.
I mustn’t take up more of your time,
you’re very busy, so very busy.
It isn’t like me talking like this,
you’re very busy, so very busy.
I know.
where I’ve always lived,
not many faces now I know.
The sun is shining
but I’m not going outside,
the garden reminds me
of Freddy.
And the flowers make me cry.
I remember how he tried
to make them bloom
beautiful for me.
And the wind sounds like a sigh
when it sets the leaves
of the laburnum tree
to flight.
I’m getting up much later
than before,
sometimes I don’t dress.
Not like my Freddy,
breakfast at 8, dinner at 12, tea at 5,
a little something nice at 9.
Oh my friends are very kind,
we always drink red wine
when they take me out
to lunch at the club.
They tell me,
“Eve, you know it’s time.
Eve, you’ve got to fight for this life,
for a little peace of mind.”
I mustn’t take up more of your time,
you’re very busy, so very busy,
I know.
Before you go,
could you help me dear?
I can’t do things like I used to.
I mustn’t take up more of your time,
you’re very busy, so very busy.
It isn’t like me talking like this,
you’re very busy, so very busy.
I know.
The big clock in the bank
ticks emphatically.
The lunchtime office queue
tuts impatiently
at the small grey head
by the counter.
She says,
“Can you help me dear?”
She says,
“Can you help me?”
She takes out a handful of money,
pays it in,
with a week’s worth of worry,
to be smoothed out
with the queen’s head
facing up.
Leaning on his steering wheel
the driver sighs
as schoolkids’ laughter
helterskelters
down the aisle
and a weathered hand
fumbles for her bus pass.
She says,
"Can you help me dear?”
She says,
“Can you help me?
These dark nights
take me by surprise,
I’m usually home before five.”
She tries to peer through
the dirty window,
is she going the right way?
Darned cardigan pockets.
Empty shopping bags.
ticks emphatically.
The lunchtime office queue
tuts impatiently
at the small grey head
by the counter.
She says,
“Can you help me dear?”
She says,
“Can you help me?”
She takes out a handful of money,
pays it in,
with a week’s worth of worry,
to be smoothed out
with the queen’s head
facing up.
Leaning on his steering wheel
the driver sighs
as schoolkids’ laughter
helterskelters
down the aisle
and a weathered hand
fumbles for her bus pass.
She says,
"Can you help me dear?”
She says,
“Can you help me?
These dark nights
take me by surprise,
I’m usually home before five.”
She tries to peer through
the dirty window,
is she going the right way?
Darned cardigan pockets.
Empty shopping bags.
I don’t know what is happening here,
strange words and strange tears
in the air.
I don’t recognise the eyes,
I don’t recognise the icy stare.
Who would would ever know,
who’d ever guess
that love ever
lived there?
Because everything that I do
is the wrong thing for you
and everything that I say,
you take it the wrong way.
Don’t you think I should go?
Don’t you think I should leave
rather than do,
we shouldn’t do
this?
I’m not talking to you
but the silence in the air
is a scream of accusation
taking place.
I’m not coming near you
but each movement that you make
tingles like a slap across the face.
I can stay out all day long,
I know how to get along
perfectly well on my own.
I don’t know how to make this right
but I know how to fight
more than you know.
Because everything that I do
is the wrong thing for you
and everything that I say,
you take it the wrong way.
Don’t you think I should go?
Don’t you think I should leave
rather than do -
we shouldn’t do -
this?
strange words and strange tears
in the air.
I don’t recognise the eyes,
I don’t recognise the icy stare.
Who would would ever know,
who’d ever guess
that love ever
lived there?
Because everything that I do
is the wrong thing for you
and everything that I say,
you take it the wrong way.
Don’t you think I should go?
Don’t you think I should leave
rather than do,
we shouldn’t do
this?
I’m not talking to you
but the silence in the air
is a scream of accusation
taking place.
I’m not coming near you
but each movement that you make
tingles like a slap across the face.
I can stay out all day long,
I know how to get along
perfectly well on my own.
I don’t know how to make this right
but I know how to fight
more than you know.
Because everything that I do
is the wrong thing for you
and everything that I say,
you take it the wrong way.
Don’t you think I should go?
Don’t you think I should leave
rather than do -
we shouldn’t do -
this?
Everybody’s out
for what they can get.
Call me naïve
but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
There’s a man in hotel room
counting all of his money.
His wife sits out on the balcony
looking at a blue sea
underneath a blue sky.
Back home in the rain
everybody shakes their head,
picking on the bones of promises,
the things he said.
“He got away with it”.
The line between good and bad
got thinner today.
The space between us
and the crooks
got smaller today.
“He got away with it”.
Everybody’s out
for what they can get.
Call me naïve
but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
They’re chasing through the countryside,
an army of white vans,
white knuckles grip
the steering wheel,
they’re taking what they can.
They’re gonna get what they can,
they’re gonna.
Hey Mr. Soul-Taker,
Mr. Lie-Maker,
Mr. Arse-Breaker,
Mr. Fat-Face-Faker,
you got it so wrong.
You got it so wrong.
Everybody’s out
for what they can get.
Call me naïve but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
for what they can get.
Call me naïve
but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
There’s a man in hotel room
counting all of his money.
His wife sits out on the balcony
looking at a blue sea
underneath a blue sky.
Back home in the rain
everybody shakes their head,
picking on the bones of promises,
the things he said.
“He got away with it”.
The line between good and bad
got thinner today.
The space between us
and the crooks
got smaller today.
“He got away with it”.
Everybody’s out
for what they can get.
Call me naïve
but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
They’re chasing through the countryside,
an army of white vans,
white knuckles grip
the steering wheel,
they’re taking what they can.
They’re gonna get what they can,
they’re gonna.
Hey Mr. Soul-Taker,
Mr. Lie-Maker,
Mr. Arse-Breaker,
Mr. Fat-Face-Faker,
you got it so wrong.
You got it so wrong.
Everybody’s out
for what they can get.
Call me naïve but I did not know
there were so many cowboys.
Funny how
there are no cowgirls.
The turquoise walls,
through the rectangular opening
of the half shuttered window,
still look bright
beneath the grey sky.
Spectacular birdsong,
the early evening news
rests on the air easy,
like the couples sitting back
in their chairs on the street,
watching each car
coming back from the city.
Colour, intrusion and speed
are temporary.
And the church bells call
the ladies to mass,
widowed wise
in widowed black,
with ‘ave, ave, ave Maria‘.
Sitting at the table
writing, reeling,
constructing comfort and meaning
from this getting away from it all.
And you’re lying on the bed
in the bedroom next door reading.
There’s not a chance in hell
we’re going to tell each other
what we’re feeling.
The church bells call the ladies to mass,
widowed wise
in widowed black,
with ‘ave, ave, ave Maria ‘.
through the rectangular opening
of the half shuttered window,
still look bright
beneath the grey sky.
Spectacular birdsong,
the early evening news
rests on the air easy,
like the couples sitting back
in their chairs on the street,
watching each car
coming back from the city.
Colour, intrusion and speed
are temporary.
And the church bells call
the ladies to mass,
widowed wise
in widowed black,
with ‘ave, ave, ave Maria‘.
Sitting at the table
writing, reeling,
constructing comfort and meaning
from this getting away from it all.
And you’re lying on the bed
in the bedroom next door reading.
There’s not a chance in hell
we’re going to tell each other
what we’re feeling.
The church bells call the ladies to mass,
widowed wise
in widowed black,
with ‘ave, ave, ave Maria ‘.
Staring (Copyright 2003 Sib Records)
Excuse me if I don’t stay,
if I walk away for a little while,
because the things I hear you say,
they make me want to cry.
If you knew the people that I do,
you’d see they make the world
a better place to be;
they make a beauty
that you’ll never see.
I'd better walk away.;
They’re not beautiful to you,
they don’t look the way you do,
they don’t talk the way you do,
they don't love the way you.,
They’ll never fit into
the picture you’re buying into,
but they'll fit into,
the lies you’re reading
and believing.
I’d better walk away
because if I stay
I’ll say things I won’t regret,
I’ll say things you won’t forget.
I’d better walk away.
if I walk away for a little while,
because the things I hear you say,
they make me want to cry.
If you knew the people that I do,
you’d see they make the world
a better place to be;
they make a beauty
that you’ll never see.
I'd better walk away.;
They’re not beautiful to you,
they don’t look the way you do,
they don’t talk the way you do,
they don't love the way you.,
They’ll never fit into
the picture you’re buying into,
but they'll fit into,
the lies you’re reading
and believing.
I’d better walk away
because if I stay
I’ll say things I won’t regret,
I’ll say things you won’t forget.
I’d better walk away.
Staring at you,
totally amazing.
Staring at you
jumping your way,
to the front of the queue,
clambering high
to that pile in the sky.
With a glint in your eye
swat like a fly
the fools that are kind,
the shy who will never shine.
I bet doubt won’t ever stir your sleep
with its boots steel capped
with can I's
or shall I's?
Kicking in the dreams of those
who were never told
that they could or they should,
those that might be
better than you
in everything you do;
better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
Staring at you,
totally amazing.
Staring at you
talk of yourself
without pausing for breath.
Assured, believing,
they’re needing to hear
the details of victory,
the spoils of the scene,
from your world of the grasping,
aspiring and mean.
She’s not your friend,
just a face for to talk at,
to make the right noises
in the gaps in between.
You wake up fresh, no sweat
from daybreak fear of the fight,
just a narrow-eyed,
determined stride
past those who might be
better than you
in everything you do;
better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
Who told you
you were more beautiful
than all the rest who might be?
Who told you
you were more wonderful
than all the rest who might be
better than you
in everything you do?
Better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
totally amazing.
Staring at you
jumping your way,
to the front of the queue,
clambering high
to that pile in the sky.
With a glint in your eye
swat like a fly
the fools that are kind,
the shy who will never shine.
I bet doubt won’t ever stir your sleep
with its boots steel capped
with can I's
or shall I's?
Kicking in the dreams of those
who were never told
that they could or they should,
those that might be
better than you
in everything you do;
better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
Staring at you,
totally amazing.
Staring at you
talk of yourself
without pausing for breath.
Assured, believing,
they’re needing to hear
the details of victory,
the spoils of the scene,
from your world of the grasping,
aspiring and mean.
She’s not your friend,
just a face for to talk at,
to make the right noises
in the gaps in between.
You wake up fresh, no sweat
from daybreak fear of the fight,
just a narrow-eyed,
determined stride
past those who might be
better than you
in everything you do;
better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
Who told you
you were more beautiful
than all the rest who might be?
Who told you
you were more wonderful
than all the rest who might be
better than you
in everything you do?
Better than you
in everything you.
But they’re never going to make it
like you.
Time passes so slowly
on a Sunday afternoon
when your mother’s too busy for you
and your sister is on the phone.
And it’s not your weekend
for seeing your dad
and you’re bored
with all your friends,
so you watch TV,
read your magazine,
look inside the fridge
for something to eat.
But there’s a wind blowing in
from the west side,
yes there’s a wind blowing in,
and it’s bringing all the good things
that are coming soon
to you.
Staring out of the window
at the cat on the lawn below,
the wind blowing in
lifts the hair from your face
you’ve no idea is beautiful.
And you lie on the bed in the room
where you spend
maybe far too much time
on your own
dreaming of how it’s going to be
when you’re finally grown.
But there’s a wind blowing in
from the west side,
yes there’s a wind blowing in,
and it’s bringing all the good things
that are coming soon
to you.
on a Sunday afternoon
when your mother’s too busy for you
and your sister is on the phone.
And it’s not your weekend
for seeing your dad
and you’re bored
with all your friends,
so you watch TV,
read your magazine,
look inside the fridge
for something to eat.
But there’s a wind blowing in
from the west side,
yes there’s a wind blowing in,
and it’s bringing all the good things
that are coming soon
to you.
Staring out of the window
at the cat on the lawn below,
the wind blowing in
lifts the hair from your face
you’ve no idea is beautiful.
And you lie on the bed in the room
where you spend
maybe far too much time
on your own
dreaming of how it’s going to be
when you’re finally grown.
But there’s a wind blowing in
from the west side,
yes there’s a wind blowing in,
and it’s bringing all the good things
that are coming soon
to you.
What you up to today?
What you doin’?
Don’t tell me you’re looking for a job.
What you up to today?
What you doin’?
Don’t make me laugh, mug’s game.
Got enough tins to take
the edge off the day,
got enough weed to blow
what’s left of it away.
Hey, what do you say?
I could come over, what do you say?
I could come over later today?
I could come over,
we could find a car,
make it take us fast,
make it take us far.
With the window down
we could leave this town
with the music loud,
going for the buzz
with the bass pumping
in your gut;
going for the high
in the back with your eyes
tight shut.
What do you mean
you want something better?
This is it for lads like you and me.
What do you mean
you want something better?
Did they teach you that at school?
Losers.
Got enough tins to take
the edge off the day,
got enough weed to blow
what’s left of it away.
Hey, what do you say?
I could come over…
Listen to me man, don’t be a fool.
What has anybody
ever done for you?
Taking what you want
is the only way to be
coz no one gives a toss
about you and me.
Stick with me kid, I’ll see you right.
Stick with me kid,
you'll be fine.
I could come over…
What you doin’?
Don’t tell me you’re looking for a job.
What you up to today?
What you doin’?
Don’t make me laugh, mug’s game.
Got enough tins to take
the edge off the day,
got enough weed to blow
what’s left of it away.
Hey, what do you say?
I could come over, what do you say?
I could come over later today?
I could come over,
we could find a car,
make it take us fast,
make it take us far.
With the window down
we could leave this town
with the music loud,
going for the buzz
with the bass pumping
in your gut;
going for the high
in the back with your eyes
tight shut.
What do you mean
you want something better?
This is it for lads like you and me.
What do you mean
you want something better?
Did they teach you that at school?
Losers.
Got enough tins to take
the edge off the day,
got enough weed to blow
what’s left of it away.
Hey, what do you say?
I could come over…
Listen to me man, don’t be a fool.
What has anybody
ever done for you?
Taking what you want
is the only way to be
coz no one gives a toss
about you and me.
Stick with me kid, I’ll see you right.
Stick with me kid,
you'll be fine.
I could come over…
All I want is to feel fine
when the sun shines.
All I need is not to feel alone
when the moon glows.
Just get going on the road
not too heavy a load,
just get in the right time
Moaning, moaning every Monday,
what’s going to happen
by next Sunday?
I don't know.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
All I want is a happy heart
in the morning;
all I need is knowing where to start
by the evening.
I’m not talking about perfection,
just a little direction
for making the wrong right.
Moaning, moaning every Monday,
what’s going to happen
by next Sunday?
I don't know.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
Give me the strength to choose,
even if I lose,
when to stay
and when to walk away.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
when the sun shines.
All I need is not to feel alone
when the moon glows.
Just get going on the road
not too heavy a load,
just get in the right time
Moaning, moaning every Monday,
what’s going to happen
by next Sunday?
I don't know.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
All I want is a happy heart
in the morning;
all I need is knowing where to start
by the evening.
I’m not talking about perfection,
just a little direction
for making the wrong right.
Moaning, moaning every Monday,
what’s going to happen
by next Sunday?
I don't know.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
Give me the strength to choose,
even if I lose,
when to stay
and when to walk away.
May I, may I turn away
from the shadows that lie
beside me.
Hanging round on the corner,
hair scraped back,
in a bobble, blue – or is it black?
A ghastly pale
that doesn’t come
from just a lack of sun.
Eyes wide, waiting.
Folding their arms
across their chest,
her friends dish out the latest.
She stifles a yawn,
stares at her feet,
craving something sweet,
skinny white girl.
Watching you
as you walk out your door.
Watching you
as you get in your car.
Watching you as you
as you drive away.
Watching you
coz there’s nothing else
to do.
On each pavement
she knows every crack,
she counts each step there
and each step back;
runs her fingers along every wall.
turns the corner where
she had that fall.
She walks quickly past
the gang at the end,
if they say something,
she’ll just pretend
she can’t hear them.
Watching you
as you walk out your door,
watching you,
as you get in your car.
Watching you
as you as you drive away,
watching you
coz there’s nothing else
to do.
hair scraped back,
in a bobble, blue – or is it black?
A ghastly pale
that doesn’t come
from just a lack of sun.
Eyes wide, waiting.
Folding their arms
across their chest,
her friends dish out the latest.
She stifles a yawn,
stares at her feet,
craving something sweet,
skinny white girl.
Watching you
as you walk out your door.
Watching you
as you get in your car.
Watching you as you
as you drive away.
Watching you
coz there’s nothing else
to do.
On each pavement
she knows every crack,
she counts each step there
and each step back;
runs her fingers along every wall.
turns the corner where
she had that fall.
She walks quickly past
the gang at the end,
if they say something,
she’ll just pretend
she can’t hear them.
Watching you
as you walk out your door,
watching you,
as you get in your car.
Watching you
as you as you drive away,
watching you
coz there’s nothing else
to do.
Leanne hides her head in her jumper
when she’s sad
and won’t come out for anyone.
Cross-legged on the floor,
the other children stare
but she doesn’t see
so she doesn’t care.
Playing with her headband,
chewing on her sleeve,
she’s in a place nobody knows.
When she smiles her tiny frame
bubbles like fizzy wine
and underneath her fringe
two blue eyes shine.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
The children splash around
in the swimming pool
but she’s too scared to move.
Leanne clings to the side
like a bird that hasn’t learnt to fly.
Feeling brave at break
she hits out at some child
who’s come to say hello,
“You’re not going to pick on me”,
she says.
Sitting on a wooden bench,
scratching patterns in the fence,
she holds on tightly to her stone,
waiting for the bell to go.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
And when a big boy’s cruel words
sting you,
you come running,
can’t speak for crying,
totally believing
I can make it better.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
when she’s sad
and won’t come out for anyone.
Cross-legged on the floor,
the other children stare
but she doesn’t see
so she doesn’t care.
Playing with her headband,
chewing on her sleeve,
she’s in a place nobody knows.
When she smiles her tiny frame
bubbles like fizzy wine
and underneath her fringe
two blue eyes shine.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
The children splash around
in the swimming pool
but she’s too scared to move.
Leanne clings to the side
like a bird that hasn’t learnt to fly.
Feeling brave at break
she hits out at some child
who’s come to say hello,
“You’re not going to pick on me”,
she says.
Sitting on a wooden bench,
scratching patterns in the fence,
she holds on tightly to her stone,
waiting for the bell to go.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
And when a big boy’s cruel words
sting you,
you come running,
can’t speak for crying,
totally believing
I can make it better.
Leanne,
whatever happens you to you,
I wish only joy for you.
Tide so sure pulling me in
and so it begins.
Afraid to put a name to
something new,
this something new.
I don’t recognise
the me that he sees,
I thought she’s disappeared
long ago.
Well-worn words
are undiscovered worlds.
The long-rehearsed embrace
is a very different place.
Oh, my love takes the gifts
that I’d bought, wrapped and kissed
from the hands that let them fall.
He mends the cracks
and the chips,
even the smashed to bits.
Oh, my love
washes me.
Stronger than solitude,
stronger than fear,
those old demons
whispering in my ear.
It carries me so tenderly
till I shriek with delight.
I watch the lips that call to me,
I watch the arms reaching out to me,
I watch and wait
for it all to slip away.
“I wouldn’t let you down”,
he says.
Oh, my love takes the gifts
that I’d bought, wrapped and kissed
from the hands that let them fall.
He mends the cracks
and the chips,
even the smashed to bits.
Oh, my love washes me.
Oh my
and so it begins.
Afraid to put a name to
something new,
this something new.
I don’t recognise
the me that he sees,
I thought she’s disappeared
long ago.
Well-worn words
are undiscovered worlds.
The long-rehearsed embrace
is a very different place.
Oh, my love takes the gifts
that I’d bought, wrapped and kissed
from the hands that let them fall.
He mends the cracks
and the chips,
even the smashed to bits.
Oh, my love
washes me.
Stronger than solitude,
stronger than fear,
those old demons
whispering in my ear.
It carries me so tenderly
till I shriek with delight.
I watch the lips that call to me,
I watch the arms reaching out to me,
I watch and wait
for it all to slip away.
“I wouldn’t let you down”,
he says.
Oh, my love takes the gifts
that I’d bought, wrapped and kissed
from the hands that let them fall.
He mends the cracks
and the chips,
even the smashed to bits.
Oh, my love washes me.
Oh my
I don’t remember
how I got so scared,
I don’t remember
how I grew so small
but on Saturday night
I laughed like I’d
just remembered who I was.
Follow your heart, they say,
follow your heart,
yet sometimes that feels so hard.
But until I do
nothing means a thing at all.
And I know I’ve been blind,
I’ve been so unkind
but I’m trying
to get through to something.
And maybe you
want me too much?
I don’t remember
turning into what you see.
I don’t remember
when I stopped feeling free
but on Saturday night
I laughed like I’d
just remembered
what it’s like to be me.
Follow your dreams, they say,
follow your dreams,
yet sometimes I get so tired.
But until I try
everything’s a very clever lie.
And I know I’ve been blind,
I’ve been so unkind
but I’m trying
to get through
to something.
And maybe you want me too much?
how I got so scared,
I don’t remember
how I grew so small
but on Saturday night
I laughed like I’d
just remembered who I was.
Follow your heart, they say,
follow your heart,
yet sometimes that feels so hard.
But until I do
nothing means a thing at all.
And I know I’ve been blind,
I’ve been so unkind
but I’m trying
to get through to something.
And maybe you
want me too much?
I don’t remember
turning into what you see.
I don’t remember
when I stopped feeling free
but on Saturday night
I laughed like I’d
just remembered
what it’s like to be me.
Follow your dreams, they say,
follow your dreams,
yet sometimes I get so tired.
But until I try
everything’s a very clever lie.
And I know I’ve been blind,
I’ve been so unkind
but I’m trying
to get through
to something.
And maybe you want me too much?
The wind picked up
by the afternoon,
urging the lazy lapping
to kick up its petticoats,
cancan its way to a grand finale,
eye-squinting spectacle
floodlit by the sun
just for us
and a small boy watching;
just for us
and a small boy dreaming.
You were never quite as beautiful
(blow it away)
as you you are today
(blow the rest of the world away just for a day)
as our love is today
(blow it away)
you were never quite so beautiful.
Let me keep this feeling
just for a day.
Our seasoned skin drank in the heat
like the bleached wood
soft beneath our feet,
cracked in crystal lines
creaking underneath the strain
of the raging dance
of wind and waves
heels held high
just for us
and a small boy watching;
just for us
and a small boy dreaming.
(Blow it away)
You were never quite as beautiful
(blow it away)
as you you are today
(blow the rest of the world away
just for a day)
as our love is today
(blow it away)
you were never quite so beautiful.
Let me keep this feeling
just for a day.
The restaurant
will do no business today,
the people have retreated
to their safely packaged fun.
And the boys who serve them
stare out
from under the vines
that hang over the empty tables.
(Blow it away)...
by the afternoon,
urging the lazy lapping
to kick up its petticoats,
cancan its way to a grand finale,
eye-squinting spectacle
floodlit by the sun
just for us
and a small boy watching;
just for us
and a small boy dreaming.
You were never quite as beautiful
(blow it away)
as you you are today
(blow the rest of the world away just for a day)
as our love is today
(blow it away)
you were never quite so beautiful.
Let me keep this feeling
just for a day.
Our seasoned skin drank in the heat
like the bleached wood
soft beneath our feet,
cracked in crystal lines
creaking underneath the strain
of the raging dance
of wind and waves
heels held high
just for us
and a small boy watching;
just for us
and a small boy dreaming.
(Blow it away)
You were never quite as beautiful
(blow it away)
as you you are today
(blow the rest of the world away
just for a day)
as our love is today
(blow it away)
you were never quite so beautiful.
Let me keep this feeling
just for a day.
The restaurant
will do no business today,
the people have retreated
to their safely packaged fun.
And the boys who serve them
stare out
from under the vines
that hang over the empty tables.
(Blow it away)...
Stepping off the tram
the rain started to fall,
still light.
Empty time between
the shoppers gone
and the clubbers not yet come.
The only people on the street
are those
you’re never going to meet
on the way home.
They’re still hanging around,
waiting for the night.
Faces hardened by these streets,
toughened skin
and reddened cheeks
from the wind and the drink
that draws its time around the eyes.
Between gulps they’re spitting fury
at themselves,
at the luxury apartments
above the doorways
they’re hanging around
waiting for the night,
with the empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night
comes too close.
Pumping out the tunes,
the bars open their doors,
draw you in
past the bouncers
sipping steaming tea,
laughing and chatting.
But the muscles
in their long black coats
tingle from their afternoon workout,
ready, patiently hanging around,
waiting for the night.
Narrow street choked with smoke,
buses just a dirty joke
for people who’ll never travel
any other way.
Do you think they know
that this is trendy authenticity?
In fact, the very place to be
hanging around,
waiting for the night
with the empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night comes too close.
Giddy from the music
or maybe just the beer,
looking for a taxi home.
There’s a fight between a white boy
and a black boy
and a girl has collapsed
on the ground,
and another girl is sprawled
on a bench,
screaming at the night
turned ugly with the drink.
I finally get home,
slip into our bed
to feel the warmth of your sleep.
Empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night comes too close.
the rain started to fall,
still light.
Empty time between
the shoppers gone
and the clubbers not yet come.
The only people on the street
are those
you’re never going to meet
on the way home.
They’re still hanging around,
waiting for the night.
Faces hardened by these streets,
toughened skin
and reddened cheeks
from the wind and the drink
that draws its time around the eyes.
Between gulps they’re spitting fury
at themselves,
at the luxury apartments
above the doorways
they’re hanging around
waiting for the night,
with the empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night
comes too close.
Pumping out the tunes,
the bars open their doors,
draw you in
past the bouncers
sipping steaming tea,
laughing and chatting.
But the muscles
in their long black coats
tingle from their afternoon workout,
ready, patiently hanging around,
waiting for the night.
Narrow street choked with smoke,
buses just a dirty joke
for people who’ll never travel
any other way.
Do you think they know
that this is trendy authenticity?
In fact, the very place to be
hanging around,
waiting for the night
with the empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night comes too close.
Giddy from the music
or maybe just the beer,
looking for a taxi home.
There’s a fight between a white boy
and a black boy
and a girl has collapsed
on the ground,
and another girl is sprawled
on a bench,
screaming at the night
turned ugly with the drink.
I finally get home,
slip into our bed
to feel the warmth of your sleep.
Empty polystyrene cartons,
crumpled cans of beer,
fag packets gaping open
like an uneventful year.
Your love is all I have
when the night comes too close.
Turn the music up.
Tell the DJ to play it loud
to an incredible crowd.
Dance it hard,
keep it tight every night.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
Smile, shine.
Make sure you mean it
every time.
Sing it true
like you know you can do.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
Don’t let anybody tell you,
you can’t be the thing
you know that you have got to be.
And don’t let anybody tell you,
you can’t make the life
you know that you’re supposed to live.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
Tell the DJ to play it loud
to an incredible crowd.
Dance it hard,
keep it tight every night.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
Smile, shine.
Make sure you mean it
every time.
Sing it true
like you know you can do.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
Don’t let anybody tell you,
you can’t be the thing
you know that you have got to be.
And don’t let anybody tell you,
you can’t make the life
you know that you’re supposed to live.
That is the way
she’ll stay
forever.
I can hear the birds singing
down the phone
when you call me
to tell me everything is going so well
and to tell me
all the things we could do.
“The air is so clear,
it could be so wonderful here.
A truly new start,
if you’d only open your heart”.
This time I’m coming,
I’m through with running,
this time I’m coming too.
I can hear your smile,
you’re lying on the floor
when you call me.
Looking at the sky
through the open door
as you tell me
all the things we could do.
“The trees are in bloom
and the sun’s filled the room.
The sky is so blue,
how I wish you were here too”.
This time I’m coming,
I’m through with running,
this time I’m coming too.
down the phone
when you call me
to tell me everything is going so well
and to tell me
all the things we could do.
“The air is so clear,
it could be so wonderful here.
A truly new start,
if you’d only open your heart”.
This time I’m coming,
I’m through with running,
this time I’m coming too.
I can hear your smile,
you’re lying on the floor
when you call me.
Looking at the sky
through the open door
as you tell me
all the things we could do.
“The trees are in bloom
and the sun’s filled the room.
The sky is so blue,
how I wish you were here too”.
This time I’m coming,
I’m through with running,
this time I’m coming too.
Find (Copyright 2000 Sib Records)
The light from the lamp
reveals the dust
on the desk
where the piles of paper lie
like a baby
and the bells from the church
caress the air
like the kiss of a butterfly
resting on my cheek.
It’s only six o’clock
and it’s already getting dark.
Only six o’clock.
The wind picking up blows the dusk
into the arms of the chimes
alive in its breeze
and the boats lying still
in the harbour sing
out to the sea,
“Come on now love,
bring us back in”.
The night is drawing in,
its chill is bursting on my skin.
Night is drawing in
on this last Sunday
of Summer.
Find the way back home.
Don’t you remember
what you came to do?
Find the way back home.
reveals the dust
on the desk
where the piles of paper lie
like a baby
and the bells from the church
caress the air
like the kiss of a butterfly
resting on my cheek.
It’s only six o’clock
and it’s already getting dark.
Only six o’clock.
The wind picking up blows the dusk
into the arms of the chimes
alive in its breeze
and the boats lying still
in the harbour sing
out to the sea,
“Come on now love,
bring us back in”.
The night is drawing in,
its chill is bursting on my skin.
Night is drawing in
on this last Sunday
of Summer.
Find the way back home.
Don’t you remember
what you came to do?
Find the way back home.
Sister, let me sit close,
let me swim in your voice.
Sister, let me come in,
breathe the scent of your skin.
I’ll just sit quietly on the stair,
you won’t even notice me there.
Let me just hear you talk.
Go on, tell your stories,
let them dance in your eyes.
Filled with glorious laughter,
secret surprise.
If I want to, I can join in
or stay a still, silent din.
Either way, it’s ok.
You let me come and go
as I please,
make no demands upon me.
Isn’t that the coolest kind of love?
Hey sister, sister,
take this little sister home.
Running round like a mad thing
I forget how to listen,
running crazy in this crazy life,
I forget how to sit still.
But when I stop and listen to you,
there seems nothing
more important to do
than this
because you always know
how to listen
and you always find
time to spare
when I blow in bursting hot air,
causing casual mayhem everywhere
in some self-centred despair.
You let me come and go
as I please,
make no demands upon me.
Isn’t that the coolest kind of love?
Hey sister, sister
take this little sister home.
let me swim in your voice.
Sister, let me come in,
breathe the scent of your skin.
I’ll just sit quietly on the stair,
you won’t even notice me there.
Let me just hear you talk.
Go on, tell your stories,
let them dance in your eyes.
Filled with glorious laughter,
secret surprise.
If I want to, I can join in
or stay a still, silent din.
Either way, it’s ok.
You let me come and go
as I please,
make no demands upon me.
Isn’t that the coolest kind of love?
Hey sister, sister,
take this little sister home.
Running round like a mad thing
I forget how to listen,
running crazy in this crazy life,
I forget how to sit still.
But when I stop and listen to you,
there seems nothing
more important to do
than this
because you always know
how to listen
and you always find
time to spare
when I blow in bursting hot air,
causing casual mayhem everywhere
in some self-centred despair.
You let me come and go
as I please,
make no demands upon me.
Isn’t that the coolest kind of love?
Hey sister, sister
take this little sister home.
A prostitute sunbathes by the pool
while her client sits beside her
flicking through a porno magazine
and a little brown girl
talks to herself in the shallow end
in a rubber ringed magic kingdom.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
Cacophony of crude cicadas,
bougainvillea blooms in pink
on white-washed walls,
slices of ice beneath a sapphire sky;
on balconies heavy with jasmine,
old women stare quizzically
at the sunburnt Brits
searching for authenticity.
And Little Miss Big Nipples
is reading The Times
that Daddy somehow
managed to find.
Only 23, but she’s doing very well
at the BBC.
And Mummy calls out
from the shade of the sun,
“Darling put some suncream on”,
to her son splashing
other children.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
Cacophony of crude cicadas,
bougainvillea blooms in pink
on white-washed walls,
slices of ice beneath a sapphire sky,
on balconies heavy with jasmine,
old women stare quizzically
at the sunburnt Brits
searching for authenticity.
At the airport time trickles by
in the toilets cleaned
by invisible women,
hoping for some change
from the beautiful ladies in their beautiful clothes,
pretty pink ladies
in their beautiful clothes.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
while her client sits beside her
flicking through a porno magazine
and a little brown girl
talks to herself in the shallow end
in a rubber ringed magic kingdom.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
Cacophony of crude cicadas,
bougainvillea blooms in pink
on white-washed walls,
slices of ice beneath a sapphire sky;
on balconies heavy with jasmine,
old women stare quizzically
at the sunburnt Brits
searching for authenticity.
And Little Miss Big Nipples
is reading The Times
that Daddy somehow
managed to find.
Only 23, but she’s doing very well
at the BBC.
And Mummy calls out
from the shade of the sun,
“Darling put some suncream on”,
to her son splashing
other children.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
Cacophony of crude cicadas,
bougainvillea blooms in pink
on white-washed walls,
slices of ice beneath a sapphire sky,
on balconies heavy with jasmine,
old women stare quizzically
at the sunburnt Brits
searching for authenticity.
At the airport time trickles by
in the toilets cleaned
by invisible women,
hoping for some change
from the beautiful ladies in their beautiful clothes,
pretty pink ladies
in their beautiful clothes.
“Life’s too hard, too fucking hard!”
I cried out in my sleep.
And in my dream you handed me
a mug of steaming tea.
I wake up in our bed alone.
You’re sitting downstairs,
drinking coffee and reading.
You’ve been up all night.
You couldn’t sleep after what I said,
you couldn’t sleep after what I did.
Again,
I hurt your feelings.
Everything goes so well for a while,
the laughter is strong.
And it feels like
nothing could ever go wrong.
I get up and I come downstairs.
You look up from your book
with eyes that are bleeding,
bruised from the night.
Your words aren’t angry
they’re just painted sad,
asking why I want to make
what’s good bad?
You say,
“Where is the feeling?”
Everything goes so well for a while,
all that’s good in this world
is in your smile.
I’m trying to love you,
I’m trying to share my life with you,
I’m trying to give,
but you know,
it doesn’t come easy.
I keep making mistakes, I know,
and I keep getting it wrong
but in this dumbed down world
of cheap easy come and easy go,
don’t you think I know
what we’ve got here?
I‘m trying to love you,
I’m trying to share my life with you,
I’m trying to give,
but you know,
it doesn’t come easy.
You’re sitting downstairs,
drinking coffee and reading.
You’ve been up all night.
You couldn’t sleep after what I said,
you couldn’t sleep after what I did.
Again,
I hurt your feelings.
Everything goes so well for a while,
the laughter is strong.
And it feels like
nothing could ever go wrong.
I get up and I come downstairs.
You look up from your book
with eyes that are bleeding,
bruised from the night.
Your words aren’t angry
they’re just painted sad,
asking why I want to make
what’s good bad?
You say,
“Where is the feeling?”
Everything goes so well for a while,
all that’s good in this world
is in your smile.
I’m trying to love you,
I’m trying to share my life with you,
I’m trying to give,
but you know,
it doesn’t come easy.
I keep making mistakes, I know,
and I keep getting it wrong
but in this dumbed down world
of cheap easy come and easy go,
don’t you think I know
what we’ve got here?
I‘m trying to love you,
I’m trying to share my life with you,
I’m trying to give,
but you know,
it doesn’t come easy.