JETHRO TULL
Stormwatch
(1979)
1. North Sea Oil 3'12
2. Orion 3'58
3. Home 2'46
4. Dark Ages 9'14
5. Warm Sporran 3'33
6. Something's On The Move 4'28
7. Old Ghosts 4'23
8. Dun Ringill 2'42
9. Flying Dutchman 7'46
10. Elegy 3'39
Bonus Tracks
11. A Stitch In Time 3'40
12. Crossword 3'38
13. Kelpie 3'38
14. King Henry's Madrigal 3'01
Total Time: 59:38
REMASTERED ALBUM
Stormwatch was to prove to be the last TULL release for four of the band members.
Bassist John Glascock had suffered congenital heart problems the year before and, following surgery, had taken time off from the band to convalesce. John rejoined the band for tours and the recording of the new record in 1979.
The songs were to be a mixture of moody and dark pieces reflecting the troubled state of the economy. The oil price escalation, energy crises and other depressing world events influenced my writing and thinking.
The album was difficult to record as John's health had taken a turn for the worse and, after three tracks had been completed, I took the difficult decision to lay him off again with the strong advice to cut down the partying and to adopt a more healthy and relaxed lifestyle. John was a happy, fun-loving individual and found it impossible to adjust. But his health seemed too precarious to allow him to continue with the late nights and heavy recording schedule.
So, much of the record was made with me playing bass and a grey cloud hanging over the whole affair. "Stormwatch" became the apt title, in a foreboding sort of way, and the end result, while being musically satisfying and embodying some of the band members' best playing, left us all emotionally drained.
The subsequent tour utilised a stage set of piratical and Disneyesque proportions. A broken-down two-masted sailing ship became our stage every night and it sailed stormy waters (and freeways) across the length and breadth of the USA. Then, one night, came the sad news that John Glascock had died at home in the UK.
New bassist, David Pegg, of FAIRPORT CONVENTION fame, had brought new blood to the touring line-up and a new enthusiasm to match. He was to become the longest-serving TULL bassist with 16 years and the Porsche to show for it!
Barrie Barlow's disillusionment with touring and the impact of Glascock's death made for an increasingly difficult relationship with me although we had worked so well together on the record. But then, I am not the easiest fellow to get along with - being a bit of a bugger sometimes, in fact.
Some of Barrie's best performances are to be found on this record and, since I had the task of playing bass, we bonded in a musical way quite different to usual. Bass-players and drummers have to have that special musical thing going and we found that extra dimension quite easily. But of course, we all would rather have had the healthy presence of John throughout the recording.
So let's dedicate this re-mastered Stormwatch to Barrie Barlow who, in his eight years with the band, brought his dynamism, loyalty, humour and musical dedication to the 70's band line-up and left his final and fitting mark on this great collection of songs and performances.
Ian Anderson, 2003
Ian Anderson - Vocals, Flute, Acoustic Guitar, Bass Guitar
Martin Lancelot Âàrrå - Electric Guitar, Mandolin and Classical Guitar
Barriemor Barlow - Drums, Percussion
John Evan - Piano, Organ
David Palmer - Synthesizers, Portative Organ and Orchestral Arrangements
John Glasscock - Bass Guitar in "Flying Dutchman", "Orion" and "Elegy"
Produced by Ian Anderson
Engineered by Robin Black
Cover Concept: Ian Anderson
Art Direction: Peter Wagg
Cover Painting: David Jackson
Re-issue Design: Hugh Gilmour on behalf of The RED ROOM @ EMI
Release Coordination: Tim Chacksfield
All Songs Composed by Ian Anderson
Except "Elegy" by David Palmer and "King Henrys Madrigal", Trad, Arranged Palmer
Other arrangements by JETHRO TULL
All songs published by The Ian ANDERSON GROUP Of COMPANIES / CHRYSALIS MUSIC PUBLISHING Ltd.
Recorded at MAISON ROUGE STUDIOS, Fulham and in the MAISON ROUGE MOBILE
Special Thanks To:
Francis Wilson, THAMES TV.
Weatherman for spoken voice; Leigh Mantle second engineer and all at MAISON ROUGE STUDIOS
©2004 CHRYSALIS RECORDS Ltd.
This labelkopy information is the subject of copyright protection.
Digital Remasters ©2004
1. North Sea Oil
Black and viscous --- bound to cure blue lethargy
Sugar-plum petroleum for energy
Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve
Oh, please believe we want to be
in North Sea Oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday
Hot-air balloon --- inflation soon will make you pay
Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave
But we'll be saved and what we crave
is North Sea Oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town
Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown
before we are all nuclear --- the better way!
Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
in North Sea Oil
2. Orion
Orion, won't you give me your star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on my hill and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights:
come guard the open spaces
from the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
So come up singing above the cloudy cover
Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
I know you're watching as the old gent by the station
scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea.
Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on your love and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
after sad parties: no-one to take them home
to greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
for lost virginity a thousand miles away.
3. Home
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
4. Dark Ages
Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall?
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
Stormwatch was to prove to be the last TULL release for four of the band members.
Bassist John Glascock had suffered congenital heart problems the year before and, following surgery, had taken time off from the band to convalesce. John rejoined the band for tours and the recording of the new record in 1979.
The songs were to be a mixture of moody and dark pieces reflecting the troubled state of the economy. The oil price escalation, energy crises and other depressing world events influenced my writing and thinking.
The album was difficult to record as John's health had taken a turn for the worse and, after three tracks had been completed, I took the difficult decision to lay him off again with the strong advice to cut down the partying and to adopt a more healthy and relaxed lifestyle. John was a happy, fun-loving individual and found it impossible to adjust. But his health seemed too precarious to allow him to continue with the late nights and heavy recording schedule.
So, much of the record was made with me playing bass and a grey cloud hanging over the whole affair. "Stormwatch" became the apt title, in a foreboding sort of way, and the end result, while being musically satisfying and embodying some of the band members' best playing, left us all emotionally drained.
The subsequent tour utilised a stage set of piratical and Disneyesque proportions. A broken-down two-masted sailing ship became our stage every night and it sailed stormy waters (and freeways) across the length and breadth of the USA. Then, one night, came the sad news that John Glascock had died at home in the UK.
New bassist, David Pegg, of FAIRPORT CONVENTION fame, had brought new blood to the touring line-up and a new enthusiasm to match. He was to become the longest-serving TULL bassist with 16 years and the Porsche to show for it!
Barrie Barlow's disillusionment with touring and the impact of Glascock's death made for an increasingly difficult relationship with me although we had worked so well together on the record. But then, I am not the easiest fellow to get along with - being a bit of a bugger sometimes, in fact.
Some of Barrie's best performances are to be found on this record and, since I had the task of playing bass, we bonded in a musical way quite different to usual. Bass-players and drummers have to have that special musical thing going and we found that extra dimension quite easily. But of course, we all would rather have had the healthy presence of John throughout the recording.
So let's dedicate this re-mastered Stormwatch to Barrie Barlow who, in his eight years with the band, brought his dynamism, loyalty, humour and musical dedication to the 70's band line-up and left his final and fitting mark on this great collection of songs and performances.
Ian Anderson, 2003
Ian Anderson - Vocals, Flute, Acoustic Guitar, Bass Guitar
Martin Lancelot Âàrrå - Electric Guitar, Mandolin and Classical Guitar
Barriemor Barlow - Drums, Percussion
John Evan - Piano, Organ
David Palmer - Synthesizers, Portative Organ and Orchestral Arrangements
John Glasscock - Bass Guitar in "Flying Dutchman", "Orion" and "Elegy"
Produced by Ian Anderson
Engineered by Robin Black
Cover Concept: Ian Anderson
Art Direction: Peter Wagg
Cover Painting: David Jackson
Re-issue Design: Hugh Gilmour on behalf of The RED ROOM @ EMI
Release Coordination: Tim Chacksfield All songs published by The Ian ANDERSON GROUP Of COMPANIES / CHRYSALIS MUSIC PUBLISHING Ltd.
©2004 CHRYSALIS RECORDS Ltd.
This labelkopy information is the subject of copyright protection.
Digital Remasters ©2004
1. North Sea Oil
Engineered by Robin Black
Cover Concept: Ian Anderson
Art Direction: Peter Wagg
Cover Painting: David Jackson
Re-issue Design: Hugh Gilmour on behalf of The RED ROOM @ EMI
Release Coordination: Tim Chacksfield
All Songs Composed by Ian Anderson
Except "Elegy" by David Palmer and "King Henrys Madrigal", Trad, Arranged Palmer
Other arrangements by JETHRO TULL
Recorded at MAISON ROUGE STUDIOS, Fulham and in the MAISON ROUGE MOBILE
Special Thanks To:
This labelkopy information is the subject of copyright protection.
Digital Remasters ©2004
1. North Sea Oil
Black and viscous --- bound to cure blue lethargy
Sugar-plum petroleum for energy
Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve
Oh, please believe we want to be
in North Sea Oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday
Hot-air balloon --- inflation soon will make you pay
Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave
But we'll be saved and what we crave
is North Sea Oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town
Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown
before we are all nuclear --- the better way!
Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
in North Sea Oil
2. Orion
Orion, won't you give me your star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on my hill and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights:
come guard the open spaces
from the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
So come up singing above the cloudy cover
Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
I know you're watching as the old gent by the station
scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea.
Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on your love and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
after sad parties: no-one to take them home
to greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
for lost virginity a thousand miles away.
3. Home
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
4. Dark Ages
Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall?
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
Sugar-plum petroleum for energy
Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve
Oh, please believe we want to be
in North Sea Oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday
Hot-air balloon --- inflation soon will make you pay
Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave
But we'll be saved and what we crave
is North Sea Oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town
Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown
before we are all nuclear --- the better way!
Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
in North Sea Oil
2. Orion
Orion, won't you give me your star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on my hill and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights:
come guard the open spaces
from the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
So come up singing above the cloudy cover
Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
I know you're watching as the old gent by the station
scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea.
Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on your love and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
after sad parties: no-one to take them home
to greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
for lost virginity a thousand miles away.
3. Home
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
4. Dark Ages
Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall?
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on my hill and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights:
come guard the open spaces
from the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
So come up singing above the cloudy cover
Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
I know you're watching as the old gent by the station
scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea.
Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on your love and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
after sad parties: no-one to take them home
to greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
for lost virginity a thousand miles away.
3. Home
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
4. Dark Ages
Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall?
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
4. Dark Ages
Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall?
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
said the lady in her parlor
said the butler in the hall.
Is there time for another?
cried the drunkard in his sleep.
Not likely
said the little child. What's done
the Lord can keep.
And the vicar stands a-praying.
And the television dies
as the white dot flickers and is gone
and no-one stops to cry.
The big jet rumbles over runway miles
that scar the patchwork green
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons
have opened up the seam
of golden nights and champagne flights
ad-man overkill
and in the haze
consumer crazed
we take the sugar pill.
Jagged fires mark the picket lines
the politicians weep
and mealy-mouthed
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep.
Come and see bureaucracy
make its final heave
and let the new disorder through
while senses take their leave.
Families screaming line the streets
and put the windows through
in corner shops
where keepers kept
the country's life-blood blue.
Take their pick
and try the trick
with loaves and fishes shared
and the vicar shouts
as the lights go out,
and no-one really cares.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
5. Warm Sporran
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
6. Something's On The Move
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
7. Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
a ridge of threatening hills.
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl ---
their tails hanging low.
And young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
8. Dun Ringill
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
9. Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell ---
not fishers of men ---
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun ---
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
10. Elegy
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
11. A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories --- a cog in the big wheel
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters --- oh, they pay me plenty ---
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from
bottles halk empty.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Listen all you young folk --- your lives on a timetable
clocking on twenty-one --- fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
12. Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.
Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.
Ladder of string --- climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
13. Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
14. King Henry's Madrigal
(Instrumental)
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair ---
sweep it from that brow so cool?''
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you --- not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Say goodbye to all your dear kin ---
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.