1. |
Never too far away
03:13
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Never too far away
Standing at the start line with my best friend James
Never won before so we expected the same
Ankles tied together with a coloured band
Something’s going to happen that we don’t understand
These bonds should be invisible, but I can see them today
A mile over the fields, you were never too far away
No matter where we travel the memory always remains
The day I won the three legged race with my friend James
Driving to the gala there’s excitement in the air
I know you’re going to beat me, but I really don’t care
Outside in the car park we were dancing in the streets
Not caring what we looked like, we were lost in the beat
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2. |
Don't blame the mirror
03:51
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Don’t blame the mirror
Born on April Fools’ Day 1809
His mother married at 14 and gave birth eleven times
His father was a literary type
And for Nikolai writing was a ray of light.
Don’t blame the mirror if your face is faulty
He’ll still laugh his bitter laugh
He’ll be OK, he’s got sugar in his pockets
And breadcrumbs in his hands, so he can concentrate
Classmates called him the mysterious dwarf
He had a biting tongue and was always theatrical
Hated thunderstorms, they destroyed his mood
Bought all the copies of his poems and then burnt them in his room.
Don’t blame the mirror if your face is faulty
He’ll still laugh his bitter laugh
He’ll be OK, he’s got sugar in his pockets
And breadcrumbs in his hands, so he can concentrate
Did his nose really annoy him?
Did he wake up in a coffin?
Did he really go insane?
Could anyone have saved him
From the priest and his sadism
When he starved himself to death?
They say his last words were: “How sweet it is to die.”
Maybe at last some peace came to Nikolai
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3. |
You taught me
03:32
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You taught me to make sushi and many other things
You gave the best hugs when my heart was breaking
So giving even when your mind was under attack
We lost touch for so many years, now I’m glad to have you back
Drawing pictures of cutesy fairy tale scenes
Giant mushrooms and fairies in a world full of dreams
But that’s just one side of you, there’s so much more
So many things that you've used your talents to fight for
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4. |
Wise by asking why
03:22
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Wise by asking why
Soaring on the fair white wings of imagination
The bride of science born of a poet and a mathematician
Forced to lie down perfectly still to develop self control
Like looms weaves flowers, she said machines weaved algebra
Enchanting numbers and asking questions
You get to be wise by asking why
An engine on the threshold of unknown worlds
It took a woman’s mind to understand
Endless possibilities, not just tables of numbers
Throwing rays into focus from the corners of the universe
Memory and looped equations, a process faster than thought
A woman born ahead of her time had the answers Turing sought
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5. |
Blood on their hands
04:40
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Blood on their hands
Everything about him just smells of deceit
Throughout his life he’s always been a liar and a cheat
The one person you really don't want to be in charge
The only option worse than him is Nigel Farage
It’s hard to believe this could have gone worse
We’ve got a petulant toddler driving the hearse
It’s an emergency you can’t trust this man
Now him and his cronies have got blood on their hands
Eton doesn’t prepare you to be sympathetic
But his lack of competence is just pathetic
He came to power on a lie printed on a bus
He only cared about himself and never about us.
They’ve got the blood of nurses on their hands
They’ve got the blood of doctors on their hands
They’ve got the blood of the elderly on their hands
They’ve got 100,000 people’s blood on their hands
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6. |
The flame's gone
04:15
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The flame’s gone
The blessing of a warning of the end
That’s what they asked the old bishop to send
Ever diminishing fire showed the way to the next world
Over mountains, rivers and marsh
The foolish fire would swiftly pass
Like stolen electricity
The lights, the people
The land, the stories
The flame’s gone with a fickle breeze
Nothing spiritual in streets like these
The dying sun’s replaced
Where no-one knows your face
Nothing rots in a desert like this
A dark corner where the drunk men piss
Is this as wild as it gets now?
Follow your modern Will-o’-the wisps
At home while guzzling beer and crisps
No smell of fire in your hair now.
The lights, the people
The land, the stories
The flame’s gone with a fickle breeze
Nothing spiritual in streets like these
The dying sun’s replaced
Where no-one knows your face
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7. |
Pretending
03:57
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Pretending
The Earl's illegitimate daughter
Joined the army disguised as a man
Captain Bowen’s slave dressed as a footboy
Known as John, not Mary Anne.
She travelled to Santo Domingo,
Flanders and the USA
Bowen died but she kept the pretence up
An enigma to the very end.
Virtues and vices are not tied to gender
But her life was destroyed by men
All those guardians who wouldn’t defend her
Cowards pretending to be friends
Mary Anne’s long metamorphosis
Left her wounded and in pain
Misfortune so unrelenting
From frying pan to fire again
A powder monkey caught by a press gang
Had to tell them who she really was
No more seafaring she begged in London
Only aged 30 her life drew to a close.
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8. |
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Butterfly in a Giant’s Hands
He walked through the fields
A butterfly in his hands
Those giant paws of his
Cupped around its wings
His strides were long and strong
Bright eyes full of joy
Released his butterfly
When he reached the hospital
High on the folly of man
The fools have the best laid plans
Like a butterfly in a giant’s hands
Spreading its wings on demand
A captive of a captive
Antennae twitching hard
Cocooned with a kind touch
Back onto the flowers he flew
Sun poured through stained glass
At the giant’s funeral
The congregation gazed
At the butterfly fluttering
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9. |
The perpetual stranger
04:11
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The perpetual stranger
In Vancouver a girl was born Idris Galcia Hall
But the name never really suited her at all
Half English, she knew how to keep a stiff upper lip
With Captain Wanderwell on the longest road trip
In the days of the first skyscrapers
This six-foot beauty was a freak of nature
In the convent, she stood out by standing up to the nuns
Aloha Wanderwell - set off as a child
Aloha Wanderwell - excitement ran wild
Aloha Wanderwell - wed the captain at eighteen
Aloha Wanderwell - became the star of the screen
With pet monkey Chango, they drove through dust, mud, and rain
Aloha’s wanderlust would not be detained
Intoxicated by her fame the public felt fascination
Inside her purring car, an intimate isolation
From a childhood of adventure novels
She went to roughing it in filthy hovels
For the captain’s passion to bring world peace
Aloha Wanderwell - loved her life on the road
Aloha Wanderwell - left her babies at home
Aloha Wanderwell - her husband was shot
Aloha Wanderwell - she didn’t grieve a lot
There’s safety in being the perpetual stranger
But she got a ravishing thrill from the danger
Each frontier a question mark
She never asked for permission
Aloha Wanderwell - no she wouldn’t let you in
Aloha Wanderwell - lived a life so terrifying
Aloha Wanderwell - a storytelling queen
Aloha Wanderwell - there was nothing she hadn’t seen
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10. |
Barefoot scarecrow
04:36
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Barefoot Scarecrow
Temperature of 101, he should never have left the boat
Fainted and lay in the water, the waves lapping round his throat
Dragged himself onto the shore, the others thought he’d dashed his head
No-one there to see his torch, no rescue party, left for dead.
He was a barefoot scarecrow
But I’m only here because he survived
From Rangoon jail they let him go
He nearly died for nothing it transpired.
Terrified of being stabbed in the back, he slept against a tree
He woke up dizzy with a terrible thirst, in enemy territory
Dived into a paddy field, to gulp down water full of bugs
Caught and questioned he was sicker now, in need of food, in need of drugs.
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11. |
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A Crime of which I am proud
When Hitler wanted your statue destroyed
You must have done something right
Edith bound the wounds of her country’s enemies
She had no fear nor shrinking;
Death was not strange or fearful to her
Confinement was a solemn fast from distractions
One battered postcard of thanks was all that they needed
Sent to a firing squad she never pleaded her innocence
It’s a crime of which I am proud, she said
The soldier bandaged her weeping eyes
Pastor Le Seur was sick in his soul, he said
When those sharp commands were given
When the Germans came she felt pity
Despite their vindictiveness
Her clear grey eyes searched for humanity
Patriotism’s not enough
She realised in her final days
We must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone
One battered postcard of thanks was all that they needed
Sent to a firing squad she never pleaded her innocence
It’s a crime of which I am proud, she said
The soldier bandaged her weeping eyes
Pastor Le Seur was sick in his soul, he said
When those sharp commands were given
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Joe Peacock Birmingham, UK
I'm a prolific singer-songwriter from Birmingham - a genre-hopping storyteller, whose music has been compared to Bowie, Blur, Costello and many others. Mostly, my songs tell stories that I find interesting and thought provoking. My music has all been recorded at home so far and all money from the digital sales of my music go into paying producers/mixing & mastering engineers. ... more
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