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1. |
Rain Shadow
03:46
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I was headed South West off the M42 as the brow of the Malverns swept into view
Washed in pale sienna haze, the tincture of November days
When a thought leapt up on a sparrow hawk’s wing
And gave my heart this simple song to sing:
I know a place where the parsnips grow, the onions and potatoes and the tomatoes
Sun, rain, wind, hail, sleet or snow, the garden is the place where I like to go
Deep in the county of apples and hops, miles away from hyper-shops
Far removed from city thrills and spills, in the rain shadow of the Brecon Hills
Well I reckon I could go to a monastery to find peace of mind and equanimity
I could do Sudoku or Monopoly, but I’m too busy, busy, busy, busy:
busy lookin’ after my broccoli
Where the sparrow and the buzzard and the cuckoo calls, and I’m down on all fours
In my overalls, digging up last year’s root balls
With the missus whistlin’ fol-de-rols
In the winter I look forward to the mornings when, every year
the season comes round again: the nuthatch and the bullfinch and the Jenny wren,
and the cluckin' and the cacklin’ of the broody hen
Fellow gardeners, babes and blokes growin' everything from peppers to artichokes;
Pumpkin, aubergine, beetroot and marrow - whizzin up and down,
Round and round and round in squeaky, squeaky , rusty old wheelbarrows
Diggers and Dreamers all work as one, making hay in the sunshine and havin' fun;
Me, I'll go to any length to develop my upper body strength ‘Cos I know
a place where the parsnips grow, the onions and potatoes and the tomatilloes
Please don’t think I’m takin’ the piss - I’m just flying the flag for photosynthesis
Deep, deep in the county of apples and hops, miles away from hyper-shops
Far removed from city thrills and spills, in the rain shadow of the Brecon Hills.
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2. |
The Big Issue
04:18
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Chorus (the street call as used by Wayne):
"The sun is out, the sky is blue,
so come and buy the Big Issue"
The sky is blue, the sun is out
Being kind to people is what it’s all about
The sun is out, the sky is blue
Caring about each other is the Big Issue
Ian and Wayne on a Birmingham street
Selling their good news ; struggling to make ends meet
Two honest guys trying to earn enough to live
Innocent victims with a whole lotta love to give
They’re singing “The sky is blue …” etc
The double-dip depression makes the national news
Bankers cream off millions while children have no shoes
But in every town and city in this pleasant land
There’s a vendor on the corner holding good news in her hand
She’s singing “The sky is blue…” etc
People of Brum, where this story comes from
Laid flowers on the pavement with sadness overcome
But the candles will still burn as the city buses turn
And daily acts of kindness will go on and on, as long as
The sky is blue, the sun is out……etc
So come and get your copy of the B - - I - - - -
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3. |
Sweet Birmingham
04:34
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This is the chorus of my Birmingham song :
Sweet, Sweet Birmingham
It’s very easy, please sing along :
Sweet, Sweet Birmingham, Sweet, Sweet Birmingham
This was the city of a thousand trades
Where bits and pieces of the empire were made
The factory where the metal monster was grown
And the seeds of her own destruction were sown
Out of the ashes of the Second World War
Came reconstruction like never before
: Displaced the people to the outskirts of town
To high up, from where they could all look down on
Sweet Birmingham, four thousand miles from Alabam’
I’m coming home in a Transit van to you,
Sweet, Sweet Birmingham, Sweet, Sweet Birmingham
The silversmiths and the makers of chains
Relentless traffic of barges and trains
The busy bodies on buses and trams
Moms down the Bull Ring pushing their prams
The quiet dignity of labour and toil
The smell of iron, the fragrance of oil
But those who pulled on the levers of power
Capitulated to the motor car
Sweet, Sweet Birmingham…….etc
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4. |
Leanaí Lír
06:14
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Fado, Fado in Éirinn there lived Lír, a noble King
Who worshipped his four children as the flowers of the Spring
But great as was his love for them e’en greater was the hate
Of their stepmother, Aoife, who resolved to seal their fate
So riv’n with jealousy was Lír's barren second wife
That to be rid of the children she determined with her life:
She took them to Loch Darbhreach and raised her rowan wand
And with twisted Druid’s magic she turned them into swans-
And with a fearful wail she cried
“Three hundred years upon the Loch, three hundred on the sea,
and then again three hundred on the Western Ocean be-
and none shall hear but sad songs from the white swan’s human mouth
till the Old Man from the North joins with the Woman from the South”
Now the Old Man and the Woman were two mountains far apart;
To know he could not join them all but broke the old king’s heart-
He knew that time was running out: three hundred soon would come,
When he would have to bid farewell to his beloved swans.
Throughout the land the story spread of Aoife’s evil bent
And people came from far and wide to hear the swans’ lament;
So too, their wilder brethren came flying on feral wings
To comfort their new relatives and hear Fionnuala sing
And with a tearful sigh she sang
“Three hundred years upon the Moyle, we are condemned to be,
and then again three hundred on the wild Atlantic Sea;
and none shall hear but sad songs from the white swan’s human mouth
till the Old Man from the North joins with the Woman from the South”
Then came the day beside the Loch, all Éirinn was in tears;
The spell would keep them out at sea for yet six hundred years;
But as the swans were leaving all eyes were turned on high
As the wild ones in their millions formed a flock across the sky.
A bridge they made from beak-to-tail across old King Lír's land
And in between two mountains the hundred miles were spanned
And joy welled in the eyes of those who’d come to bid farewell
To see the swans take human form and cast off Aoife’s spell
And so with jubilation in their hearts were
All of King Lír's children set free from the witch’s curse,
She was banished for eternity: her punishment was worse.
Now none shall hear but happy songs from the Moyle to County Louth
Since the Old Man from the North joined with the Woman from the South
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5. |
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Snowdrops in the winter, Speedwell in the spring
Daisies in the meadow where the skylark loves to sing
Anemones in the forest, white as driven snow
She’ll leave a trail of flowers everywhere she goes
Mouse-ear on the hillside, Campion in the hedge;
Lilies in the valley and buttercups by the sedge;
Sorrel in the oakwood white as driven snow:
She'll leave a trail of flowers everywhere she goes.
Everywhere she goes,
Everywhere she goes:
Pretty flowers in her footsteps
Everywhere she goes.
Some day when she's grown up she may fall in love
And fields of pretty flowers won't be all she's dreamin' of;
And if she goes a-wanderin o'er mountains high and low
There'll be flowers in every valley from Caerdydd to Llandudno
Everywhere she goes,
Everywhere she goes:
Pretty flowers in her footsteps
Everywhere she goes
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6. |
Jumpin' Around
03:43
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Herbal tea, NO USE! Chamomile tea, NO USE! Peppermint tea, NO USE!
Just load me up with caffeine and turn me loose.
I’m frisky as a billy when the nanny’s around, snortin’ and cavortin’ and pawin’ the ground
My heart’s all a-flutter like a leaf on a tree, I’m itchin’ and scratchin’ like a cat with a flea
Slippin’ and slidin’ like an eel in the mud, barkin’ like a stag hound bayin’ for blood
Quiverin’ and a-shiverin’ like a frog in a fridge, rootin’ and tootin’ like a hog in a ditch
Whinin’ and pinin’ like a pup for its mother, squealin’ like a stuck pig runnin’ for cover
I’m in a cold sweat holdin’ onto my head, achin’ and shakin’ and I wish I was dead..but then
Another cuppa tea’s got me jumpin’ around, a cuppa coffee keeps me jumpin’ around
Even Coca Cola’s got me jumpin’ around, jumpin around, jumpin around, jumpin around
I tried to give it up and live like a monk, doctor said “you better stop usin’ this junk-
But don’t try to give it up all at once: it’s gonna take you a coupla months”
Now two days in and I started to shake: nausea, depression and a filthy headache –
Maybe this was all just a big mistake; my willpower’s started to break and I’m
Whinin’ and pinin’ like a pup for its mother, squealin’ like a stuck pig runnin’ for cover
I’m in a cold sweat holdin’ onto my head, achin’ and shakin’ and I wish I was dead... but then
Another cuppa tea’s got me jumpin’ around……..etc
I’m makin’ my debut in a Punkabilly band in a purple T-shirt I bought second-hand
Ain’t misbehavin’: I’m actin’ my age, leapin’ like a loony all over the stage and now I’m
Jumpin’ out the taxi just in time for the train, sprintin’ for the bus, hoppin’ onto a plane
I wouldn’t wanna disappoint those screamin’ girls, struttin’ my stuff all over the world
But when I got to the gig there was nobody there -I’m apoplectic - tearin’ my hair
Did I get it wrong? Was this some kinda trick? Oh my goodness – I’m gonna be sick!.. but then
Another cuppa tea's got me jumpin’ around……etc
Ty-Phoo’s got me jumpin’ around, PG Tips keeps me jumpin’ around
Even Coca Cola’s got me jumpin’ around, jumpin around, jumpin around
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7. |
Lapis
03:33
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She’s going today, where she’s going I can’t say
I’ve milked her for years with her Nubian ears
But there’s something amiss – I couldn’t save her from this
I’ve got a lump in my throat, still – she’s only a goat
I suppose we need milk if we want to make cheese
Paneer and gouda, goat cutlets to freeze;
If I trained in the gym would it thicken my skin?
I've got a lump in my throat.... still, she's only a goat
She’s a beautiful lady with attitude
Who plays silly capers when she’s in the mood
She gives me the runaround and plays hard to get
But when she nuzzles my boot I forgive and forget
I suppose we need leather for saddles and shoes.
Kid gloves and settees and motorbike trews
But if I had my way, well I’d just do away
With the lump in my throat, ‘cos – she’s only a goat
She’s a beautiful lady with attitude
Who plays silly capers when she’s in the mood
She gives me the runaround and plays hard to get
But when she nibbles my sleeve I forgive and forget
With labna and feta and halloumi too
Kilos of goat meat in curries and stew
But when I hear the kids bleat for the nanny goat’s teat
I get a lump in my throat, still – she was only a goat
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8. |
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9. |
How Good Was That?
03:26
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Now I don’t claim to be as good as, let’s say, Errol Flynn
How good I am depends on circumstances that I’m in
But if Jerry Lee could get it on in forty-five minutes flat
It only took me seventeen so baby, how good was that?
Now baby, if you rate me on a scale of one to ten
I’d like to know how good I am compared with other men
I know you’re not the kind of girl to put me to the test
But even so I’d like to know I’m – simply the best
Oh and, by the way, how good was that?
I bet I could knock all the rest into a cocked hat
How good was that? But if you want me to keep it up
Baby, please tell me how good was that?
My little insecurities and p-p-performance fears
Are but a distant memory of p-pimply teenage years
But a lifetime of p-passion has left me f-fighting fit
So look out, baby! Here I come! –
but you better not blink else you might miss it
and then you just couldn’t tell me how good was that?
I bet I could knock all the rest into a cocked hat
How good was that? But if you want me to keep it up
Baby, please tell me
Tell me, tell me, tell me how good was that?
Did I bowl a maiden over with my li’l ol’ cricket bat?
How good was that? How good was that?
But if things don’t go quite as planned
I might just need a helping hand
Show me that you understand and
Please, please tell me how good was that?
Tell me, how good was that?
I wanna know how good was that?
How good? How good? – “THE BEST A GIRL CAN GET!”
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10. |
Three Little Words
03:17
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I hear you crying in your sleep
I sense your heartache running deep
And I just crumble in a heap
Because I love you
I watch you writing in the snow
With your complexion all aglow
And I’m in pieces don’t you know
Because I love you
Perhaps it’s late in the day to say the things
That should’ve been said before
I can’t believe how long you waited for me
To walk through your open door
There will be memories to keep
And maybe tears we’ll some day weep
But now I’m sighing in my sleep
Because I love you
You’ve got no expectations and no regrets
But deep down I know the best is yet to come
We’ll count the stars and measure the sunsets
And never complete the sum
There are no hurdles left to leap
Nor empty promises to keep
So now I’m sighing in my sleep
Because I love you
Because I love you
Because I love you
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11. |
Bomber Command
04:17
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The pictures that we hung on the wall
Said nothing for the state of the world
They were speaking for the state of my love
With eyes that followed me round the room
And with the instinct of pigeons in the fog
We alighted to a welcoming hand
But the pictures were still on the wall
With the compliments of Bomber Command
The scarecrow at the end of the lawn
Said nothing for the sake of the world
He was speaking for the sake of my love
And counselling the officers of the peace
And with the instinct of martins in the spring
We alighted in a welcoming land
But the pictures were still on the wall
With the compliments of Bomber Command
A suit of clothes is travelling from me
I’m running on the spot
I feel a spot of rain
Give me a quad bike and I’ll go in hot pursuit
Of the wag who tied my donkey to the train
The man who planted trees in a field
Says something for the sake of the world
He is leaving the print of his heart
On a page for generations to turn
And with the laughter of children in our ears
There’s a joy in the oaks that still stand
But the pictures are still on the wall
With the compliments of Bomber Command
With the compliments of Bomber Command
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Dave Carroll England, UK
Dave Carroll is a composer and singer-songwriter with wide experience in Classical, Rock and Folk music. Well known in Birmingham’s vibrant rock scene of the 1970s he was for many years a resident guitarist with The Royal Shakespeare Company, later co-founded the alternative folk trio 'Soundboard' and now composes, collaborates and occasionally performs in a little mountain town in Canada. ... more
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