1. |
Old Nick
03:04
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Now these grim reapers don't keep my demons at bay,
They leave me reasons to keep my feelers at play.
Peace might teach my spirit to wait,
But please don't leave me in my place.
Hear this lullaby from the words he spoke,
I've been told he likes a joke.
Old Nick's alibi is a toast to what he stole.
Now all my dreaming won't wake my evenings to light;
They twist and weave into blackened shadings of white.
Hope might choke my call to climb it,
But n'owt comes as close as all that's lost.
Hear this lullaby from the words he spoke,
I've been told he likes a joke.
Old Nick's alibi is a toast to what he stole.
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2. |
Junk
03:10
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Weeds come out when you're least expecting it to celebrate the sun;
Concrete sheets which we've bathed in for centuries are all crumpled and bumped.
And it's all here around.
Pavements take us into the heart of it, where all the mess began.
To pick and pull at the bulky metal bits is fun, but you know it's junk.
And it's all here around.
We've run a long way from where we come.
We don't get no pay, but left out junk.
Sailors take those frigates with packages which wash up on the shore.
To pick and pull at the dull, white plastic bits is fun, but you know it's junk.
And it's all here around.
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3. |
Someone Else's Dream
03:51
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Things could be better now than they've ever been,
But we all settle for someone else's dream.
With someone else's dream you can't make a dream come true,
When someone else's dream creeps inside of you.
I've been told I've a demon's soul, with a hungry, un-loved eye,
But they don't know where my feelings go, or where my allegiance lies.
So go take a ride toward the light which lies behind your eyes.
Long spells of slumber, nah, they don't bring release;
Night sweats and early hours in someone else's dream.
With someone else's dream you can't make a dream come true,
When someone else's dream creeps inside of you.
I've been told I'm an old weirdo with a limp to match my stride,
But they don't know where my good leg goes, or where my work boots lie.
So go take a ride toward the light which lies behind your eyes.
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4. |
Wishful thinking
03:29
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Hope comes to stay, whether it takes you away;
It's only got to break your dismay to make you come.
We like to beat different drums with our feet,
But we've only got to tread where we live to get our bit.
Outside the roof tiles are crumbling in,
Inside the fireside is catching the beams,
Water and vapour, it don't seem to help a thing.
Hope lends a hand whenever you need helping down;
It's only got to clasp your last laugh to make you grin.
We like to live different lives from our kin,
But we've only got to wink at the queen to get back in.
Downstairs the red pairs are raking it in,
Whilst upstairs the black pairs are claiming they're green.
Dealers and waiters they don't seem to help a thing.
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5. |
In The Sun
02:51
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I like to spend my wages in the sun.
I put my pen to paper then I'm done.
And when you call for breakfast out by the corn
I have to read your letters in the sun.
I have to walk down pavements to get from
all things with dates and statements ain't no fun.
And when you're wanting seconds out on the run,
I have to write you letters in the sun.
Far flies a rumbling cloud which rains down on the earth,
What is it worth if it could be heard tumbling down on your roof?
I like to eat my bacon in the sun
I put those pens to paper then I'm done.
High looms a bag of gloom, throbbing at its size.
What if it flies in front of the light, blocking your view from in front?
I like to pick my daisies in the sun,
I put my pen to paper then I'm done.
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6. |
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Bliss is a resource that is free,
So take what you need and give it to me.
Take your best shot, or a stab in the dark,
Shred will the claws which will tear you apart.
When will we leave this lightly bright town,
Instead of climbing the trees and then chopping them down;
Chopping the core for more of the same,
Paying a price to be playing a game.
Hope will keep travelling onward
And the mountains won't stand in its way.
Hope will keep travelling onward and get away.
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Thompson Crowley Adelaide, Australia
After many years wandering around Britain in campervans, tents; on bikes; with prams, bags, buggies, I now find myself in Spain, preparing to flee to Australia. I'll be leaving behind the bands I created in London and Edinburgh, such as: The Rum Deals, The Patches & The Fed Peasants. Read about my adventures here: www.facebook.com/athomeinthebushes And for me, well, something new is coming... ... more
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