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1. |
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Let’s go to the silvery river
Catch the shimmer and the shine
Treasures of the Seaweed Oceans
Can’t outshine this love of mine
This love of mine
Eels of glass from seaweed tangles
Drifting slowly on the tides
Shimmering gold ‘cross the Atlantic
Can’t outshine this love of mine
When the moon is but a sliver
As the tide comes up the river
And the evening makes us shiver
They’ll be there
River Man, you Mudlark Seeker
In reflections of The May
Watch the Spring Tides
Whirl and eddy
Stirring up the restless clay
There they shimmer scaly silver
Flowing sleek against the tide
Cast your nets you Anchor Piemen
Through the February Night
Eels of glass from seaweed tangles
Drifting slowly on the tides
Shimmering gold ‘cross the Atlantic
Can’t outshine this love of mine
Let’s go to the silvery river
Catch the shimmer and shine
Treasures of the Seaweed Oceans
Cant outshine this love of mine
This love of mine
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2. |
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Skim a brittle frozen lake
And dance into my heart again
Melt my mind with breaths of spring
And lead me to The May
When the nights are lighter
And when the days are lengthening
Bluster me with morning thrills,
Lead me to my
Blue Remembered Hills
Fill my sky with untold stars
Breathe me into life again
Sketch my air with summer nights
And choose for me the way
Your magic hour at sunset
When reds and golds surprise
Roll my tongue with sugar pills
And lead me to my
Blue Remembered Hills
Once we were callow young
With all our years before us
Ever two together as one
Now with our new found song aching to be sung
We’ll cast our dreams upon the Blue Blue Hills
So dance me through the Valentine
To where our love is sheltering
Shower me in blossom sparks
Of hawthorn’s scented day
’til sage Augustus clothes us
In frosted robes of silvery
When seasons move against our will
On Blue Remembered Hills
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3. |
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Losing track of everything
Losing track of time
Losing every scrap of sense
Losing my mind
Did I just catch Halley’s Comet?
Or was that around last year?
I’ve been dazed and confused for a while now
Starting to fear the fear
Counting down the hours and days
To someone’s kingdom come
Twenty-four hundred hours
Of rabbits on the run
One hundred and forty-four thousand minutes
Since I last turned the key
One hundred days of solitude is quite enough for me
Losing sight of everything
Losing the goddam plot
Losing games I should have won
Lost the bloody lot
Waiting for Armageddon
Waiting for the end of time
Waiting for another bus
To the end of the line
Counting down the hours and days
To who knows what
Twenty-four hundred hours
And just what have we got?
One hundred and forty-four thousand minutes
Since I turned the key
One hundred days of solitude is quite enough for me
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4. |
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There's a place in my mind I can always go
Where memories melt like the summer snow
The sounds of the sea in the shells that I hold
Is the ticking of time on the sands of gold
Here on the shore of the seven seas
I can dream what I want and go where I please
I can visit those places we used to go
There on the sands of time
Tick tock - I’m watching horizons of faraway lands
Tick tock - writing my name with the fingers of my hand
Tick tock - running it down faster than I planned
There on the quicksands of time
The first and the last we might never know
Those moments will fade with the ebb and flow
But I still see those castles we helped to grow
Built on the sands of time
Tick tock - I’m washing my hands of the crime
Tick tock - putting my name to another man’s rhyme
Tick tock - running it down one cog at a time
Here on the sands of time
Maybe The future’s a step too far
Right now I'd rather turn and look away
Some of us are reaching for different stars
Shining above the sands of time
We built us a life on the sands of time
But now it slips through our fingers
And runs through our hands
Heading away with the waterline
Here on the sands of time
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5. |
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O fetch to me aye a Holland shirt
Withoot a stitch o' needlewark
Ye maun wash it in yonder well
Where water never sprang nor fell
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
you'll hing it to dry oer yon Thornhaugh bush,
That hasna bloomed since man was born
Gin ye would be wed tae this day,
There's many thing ye maun do for me
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
For you'll fetch to me two acres of land
Between thon salt sea and thon salt sea strand.
For you'll ploo it up with a devil’s horn,
You will sew it ower with one grain of corn,
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
For you will ripen it up with one blink o sand,
You'll cut it down with a pea-hen's feather.
Ye may stook it in the sea
And bring the wheat sheaf dry to me
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
And ye will drive upon a snail,
And thresh the wheat with a mouse's tail,
Should every ear grow merry and fine,
Then you will be a true lover of mine.
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
For surely when you put such task on me,
I'll surely put aye as hard on you.
How many ships sails in thy forest?
How many strawberries grows on the salt sea?
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
And when he has finished all of his work,
Oh, tell him to call for his Holland shirt,
With gifts of parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And then he will be a true lover of mine.
And it's ho, ho the wind'll blow x2
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6. |
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On dark mornings, high up in the hills
Ghosts rise o’er the river
We glimpse the leaves a turning pale
Against the East Wind’s shiver
On scarlet sunsets spied from valleys
Afore the moon scores over
Veins that bleed the Pole Star’s gore
Flee celestial rovers
Staining the pages
With ochres and umbers
Winters and Summers
Painting by numbers
Smearing the pages
With green and orange
Springs and Autumns
Painting by numbers
High we rise, heady with fumes
Higher than skylarks in thunderless skies
Clovers and celandines drenching the pastures
Silk scented carpets of butterflies
Staining the pages
With ochres and umbers
Winters and Summers
Painting by numbers
Smearing the pages
With green and orange
Springs and Autumns
Painting by numbers
Renaissance minstrels
Rothko blockers
Warhol thievery
Jackson Pollocks
Seventeen, Three
Thirteen, Eleven
Nineteen, Six Bee
Fourteen, One, and Seven
Staining the pages
With ochres and umbers
Winters and Summers
Painting by numbers
Smearing the pages
With green and orange
Springs and Autumns
Painting by numbers
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7. |
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I was seven years old when Elvis hit the airwaves
It was Heartbreak Hotel and it shook me to the core
All of my dreams arrived in those two moments
And whatever he had, I wanted a whole lot more
So let me pray at the shrine of The Ryman
Let me soar with the stars to the highest of highs
Let me walk in the neon lights of Broadway
If my slow-boat from Memphis ever makes it on time
From the cradle of the blues, to the stations of the heart
The passion powering up that Mystery Train
From the rising of the Sun, down on Union Avenue
The old home town would never be the same again
So let me pray at the shrine of The Ryman
Let me soar with the stars to the highest of highs
Let me walk in the neon lights of Broadway
If my slow-boat from Memphis ever makes it on time
And my West Country drawl was a close as I could get
Singing Hallelujah in the choir
Forget the Kiss Curl Square and the Little White Bull
I wanted to get closer to the wire
So let me pray at the shrine of The Ryman
Let me soar with the stars to the highest of highs
Let me walk in the neon lights of Broadway
If my slow-boat from Memphis ever makes it on time
Now I feel like I’m reaching the mooring
But time has not withered my hope and schemes
The lights on the quayside are calling me home
Rolling down the river of dreams
So let me pray at the shrine of The Ryman
Let me soar with the stars to the highest of highs
Let me walk in the neon lights of Broadway
If my slow-boat from Memphis ever makes it on time
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8. |
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Out on the plains where the crop circles grow
Winds from the east make the wildflowers blow
Summers of meadows with seldom a care
I'll look for the girl with dandelion hair
I first set sail when the weather was fair
Searching for something - castles of air
A runt of a lad with no flesh on me bones.
Skeletal shadows - sticks and stones
Newspaper vinegar shining the glass
Scents of fresh tansy in the air as I pass
Scattering words with a lightness of touch
I didn’t ever quest to seek too much
And if I am bold will she clamber my stair
I want to be friends - I just want my share
I’ve found me a love that is precious and rare
Let me dance with the girl with the dandelion hair
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9. |
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As I walked the hillsides of my youth one morning in July
I came upon a Limey Man with fire in his eyes
With staff and dog, he made his way and stopped along the path
He spake to me of devils, with eloquence and wrath
And writ in black and orange, all ‘cross his weathered cloak
Were words we should remember when all around is broke
Don’t be afeared
Don’t lose the fight
Don’t let them win, you Cotswold Cocks
Stand strong and rise, stand strong and rise
Stand strong and rise again…
Don’t let the bastards grind you down
We talked awhile of this and that, and we cried out to the skies
This Cotswold land, once ripe with pride withers before our eyes
The peasants and the artisans, the poets, and the scribes
Have stilled their pens in misery, while the carrion crows escry
Yet still in black and orange all ‘cross his ragged cloak
In words I shall remember that started as a joke
Don’t be afeared
Don’t lose the fight
Don’t let them win, you Cotswold Hens
Stand strong and rise, stand strong and rise
Stand strong and rise again…
Don’t let the bastards grind you down
We chose divergent pathways, brightened by the sun
He to cottage garden and we to bean and plum
So when the weight of the world seems to hover overhead
I’ll just keep thinking back to the things that he said
Those words in black and orange writ across his tattered cloak
Are emblazoned on my memory - I just need that little poke
But don’t be afeared
Don’t lose the fight
Don’t let them win, you Cotswold Oaks
Stand strong and rise, stand strong and rise
Stand strong and rise again…
Don’t let the bastards grind you down
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10. |
Someone Stole My Summer
02:56
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The fruit is withering in the orchard
The grass is yellowing in the rain
The days are shorter than they once were
Someone stole my summer again
Morning dew that doesn’t dry
Leaves a silk trail on the pane
Hours that flew, now they just fly
Someone stole my summer again
Someone stole my summer
Someone stole my summer again
Grains are shivering in the meadow
Bowing to the August gales
The days are colder than they once were
Someone stole my summer again
Evening mist that closes in
Dense and heavy in the lanes
Birds that flew, now they just fly
Someone stole my summer again
The harvest moon is ripe with season
Silhouetting blooms that will not wane
How the days go rushing by
Someone stole my summer again
The fruit is rotting in the orchard
The grass is wallowing in the rain
The days are shorter than they once were
Someone stole my summer again
Someone stole my summer again
Someone stole my summer
Again
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11. |
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Lavender's blue, lavender's green,
When I am king, you shall be queen:
Who told you so, who told you so?
'Twas mine own heart that told me so.
Call up your men, set them to work,
Some with a rake, some with a fork;
Some to make hay, hey hey, some to thresh corn,
Whilst you and I keep ourselves warm.
If i should die, as it may hap,
I shall be buried, under the tap;
Who told you so, she said, pray tell me why?
That i might drink, when I am dry.
Lavender's green, Lavender's blue
You must love me, cause I love you,
I heard one say, since I came hither,
That you and I, must lie together
Lavender blue and Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen;
Call up my maids at four of the clock
Some to the wheel and some to the rock;
Some to make hay and some to shear corn,
And you and I will keep the bed warm.
Walk with me through the lavender path
Fill my head with sweet perfume
Run my fingers through the flowers
We will be one come Summer soon
Lavender's blue, lavender's green,
When I am king, you shall be queen:
Who told you so, who told you so?
'Twas mine own heart that told me so.
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12. |
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If I can’t touch you
Touch you with my love
This masquerade of
Iron fists and velvet gloves
Fill my dreams of you
Lord above
That’s when I touch you
Touch you with my love
Days drift by and we’re far apart
Beating drums and beating hearts
Building walls, no end - no start
And I can’t touch you
Nights arrive with lonely dark
Silent skies and firefly sparks
Wind is whistling if you hark
But I can’t touch you
If I can’t touch you
Touch you with my love
This masquerade of
Iron fists and velvet gloves
Fill my dreams of you
Lord above
That’s when I touch you
Touch you with my love
How long can they keep us away from each other
I need you as a friend
I need you as a lover
How long can this madness go on
I need to touch you
Touch you with my love
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13. |
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And we came from far and wide to watch the wild horses run
With our arms around each other in the rain and in the sun
As we watched another daybreak kill the darkening skies
And we breathed the kiss of death into each other's eyes
And a silent film of ill crept across our sleeping skin
And the wages of our wagers were the tainted spoils of sin
And the bitter taste of wine could not mask the new domain
As the incubus grew strong in our poison-addled brains
One last dance
One last dance before we go
One last dance
At the closing of the show
Arms around each other
Sisters and brothers
As we danced through the night
We held each other tight
One last dance
One last dance
Before we go
And we flooded through the gilded halls of red white and blue
To the tournament of champions, the chosen twenty-two
And we sweated in the heat of the final hooray
Watching ninety measured moments of our lives frittering away
And we met each bloody triumph with a champions roar
We were Gladiators falling on our Burger King swords
Hold close together brothers, like sardines in a tin
So let's dance tonight boys, and sing tonight boys, cause nobody, nobody wins
One last dance
One last dance before we go
One last dance
At the closing of the show
Arms around each other
Sisters and brothers
As we danced through the night
We held each other tight
One last dance
One last dance
Before we go
One last dance
Looking back - could we have changed a single thing?
Looking back - did we learn anything?
Can anyone escape from here?
Can anyone survive?
Is anybody out there still alive?
One last dance…
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14. |
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Winter’s cloak is sewn with stars
Cast in moonlight’s silver gleam
Winter's cloak will hold us close
In a Winter’s dream
On the shortest day
Through the longest night
We hide beneath the covers
With whispered words of love
At the break of day
In the morning light
We dream of new horizons
And love is birdsong bright
Winter’s cloak is sewn with stars
Cast in moonlight’s silver gleam
Winters cloak will hold us close
In a Winter’s dream
And the certainty of love
Gave us hope and faith and glory
From the forest’s twisted pathways
To the mountains shining heights
Deep in Winter's dream tonight
On the brightest day
On the clearest night
When the moon is full of longing
We gaze across the autumn flight
On the newest day
When the near is far
We’ll reach out for the moon once more
And catch a falling star
Winter’s cloak is sewn with stars
Cast in moonlight’s silver gleam
Winter's cloak will hold us close
In a Winter’s dream
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15. |
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As we set out on one misty morning,
Dewdrops flew with each new step
Wandering down the pilgrims' path
Along the Cotswold Way
The path was rugged as the twain
Trod down the beech nut husks
And the views we claimed, were ours alone
Along the Cotswold Way
From the Black Hills of Wales across to Malvern Wells
From the bleating sheep of Uley to the Gloucester Bells
We took them in from low to high
Along the Cotswold Way
Our gnarly sticks revolved like cartwheels
Bouncing down the rutted climbs
And many a hound went chasing there
Along the Cotswold Way
And if it’s nimbus in the skies
Or purple clover in the dales
We thrill to tread the ancient rise
Along the Cotswold Way
From the Severn’s Hulks across to the Forest Dean
From the dizzy tumps of Old Ring Hill to the fading of the green
We took them in from low to high
Along the Cotswold Way
There is a bench just up-a-hill
Carved names in weathered grey
A testament to whence we came
Along the Cotswold Way
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16. |
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You can’t fence that in
Her spirit bright and shining
You can’t build a wall around her
She’ll break out
Thistledown blown
They made them wait for far too long
Until she was fully grown
He was just a farmer’s joss
And she was thistledown blown
Thistledown blown
Two winter bairns she bore him
Two lives that grew inside
But the angels came and took her
Before the spring could rise
Thistledown blown
The winter ‘flu after the war
Harvested the some
And she faded like a flower
With all the meaning gone
From his world
Thistledown blown
They made them wait for far too long
Until she was fully grown
He was just a farmer’s joss
And she was thistledown blown
Thistledown blown
Now, when the four winds blow
Across the plains of home
He still hears her gentle cry
And he cries all alone
Thistledown blown
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17. |
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Two-Wheel Town - words and music David Philip Ireland
There’s a jackdaw sitting proud on the railing near the chapel
Casting round for sinner men to blame
One eye on the skyline, one eye on the scatterings
Iridescent blue-black feathers gleaming in the rain
In this two-wheel town
In this two-wheel town
There used to be a print shop with headlines on the news
Back in the day when jobs were for life
Black and white and read all over
Wrapped around the fish and chips now, to take home for the trouble and strife
In this two-wheel town
In this two-wheel town
This town was never built for speed
A proud industrial chasm in a grass green bowl
Then the Danesman came and tamed the wild uneven ways
Turned that one horse hole
Into a two-wheel town
Two-wheel town
There’s a rumour that young William was a teacher at the school
For eight long years he shaped the local minds
And when labour’s loss was history’s gain
From high on the escarpment his words flowed like the river
Running through the distant two-wheel town
Two wheel town
When I was young the town had slipped into decline
The Donkey ceased to run there any more
A place of sad neglect
And ruined stone and twisted iron
And Lardy cakes and curdled cream
Fed the two-wheel town
Fed the two wheel town
There’s a jackdaw sitting proud on the arm of a masked man
Bags full of something for the plate
One eye on the clock, but nothing’s really mattering
There’s nowhere to go, no buses running late
No hand to hold, or soul to touch
There’s nothing really moving
No, nothing much
Everything has slowed beyond belief
Life behind the lock and key
Now dead to me
Dead and gone
From dusk ’til dawn
In this two-wheel town
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18. |
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I came across an orchard with bloodstains on the ground
Fallen seed of bruised and bloody red
Sunlight glinting there upon the gall worms and the drones
Feasting on the remnants of the windfall
I searched me for some greening shade - a willow parasol
A sheltered sun-dark dome of mornings drop
Each careless step a memoir, a cider memory
Intoxicating revels of the windfall
And how they fade
And how they wither
How they leather up
And pass into the earth
Offering life through death, season by season
The cruelest culling harvest of the windfall
In the gardens of a house brought to life after the war
I was minded of the souls among the dew
Fields of far off summer mornings held them in their arms
The ruddy rising suns of the windfall
And the ghosts drift idly high over the orchard now
They hover over villages and towns
Each one a soul, each one a son,
A snapshot heart-held close, as the teardrops trickle down
And how they fade
And how they wither
Their cries to home were soundless in the dawn
And when the broken ones returned
No lessons had been learned
There is nothing to be learned from the windfall
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19. |
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When the sun’s afire, there’s more than meets the eye
Seasons change, seasons change
As Winter gives the Spring another try,
Seasons change, seasons change
Starling songs reverberate all along the humming wires
Tribal journey tales unfurl to fuel the Beacon fires
One more time around
When the moon’s a-watch, there’s more than meets the eye
Seasons change, seasons change
As Summer whispers Autumn’s name again
Seasons change, seasons change
Hoar frost sheets the windowpanes, our breath clouds billow free and wild
‘til vistas open misty paths for endless twisting miles
One more time around
In starlight’s gaze, there’s music in the dance
Seasons change, seasons change
As Venus offers Mars another chance
Seasons change, seasons change
Murmurations from the East are twilight swirling in the skies
Joining Redwings in the fields to feast on fallen rye
One more time around
I watch Summer rivers flow
I hear the Autumn rustling low
I feel the Winter’s bitter blow
And with each new year, I know
I’ll welcome Spring’s return, and so it goes
One more time around
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David Philip Ireland England, UK
David Philip Ireland is a writer, poet, musician, broadcaster and experimentalist.
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