Leave me to the kites

Funny what inspires a song - a chicken of ours had died and was in shed waiting to be buried. As I came home from work to do the deed I noticed red kites circling overhead - could they smell poor old Scruffy? Anyway, digging the hole on a warm afternoon, an image of the old indian burial came to mind - on a platform left for the birds to pick clean - would have saved me a lot of bother and not a bad way to be recycled. So that was the only line I had Leave me to the kites. As I was trying to work it out I had a faster rhythmin mind but couldn't work out how to sing over it so slowed it down a little. I suppose it's a dark line to start with, but if there was a sense of "I've done something bad enough to leave me to be scattered by wild animals" then that naturally led to the first verse, somehow. The doom bar, for those who don't know is a sand bar in Cornwall which has been responsible for quite a few groundings and wrecks in its time. It's also a nice pint of real ale.




Leave me to the kites

I cried when I watched that mermaid drown
I cried as my hands held her head down

Leave me to the kites
Leave me to the crows
Leave me where the tide won't go

She whispered you must fear the sea
That siren's whisper maddens me

Leave me to the kites
Leave me to the crows
Leave me where the west wind blows

I stole a kiss she stole my heart
Now I'm cursed till oceans part

Leave me to the kites
Leave me to the crows
Leave me where the doom bar grows

Carpenter's whisper

not bad for a morning's tube ride into work. Hit a bit of a purple vein. Must have been the solstice morning. Still unfinished but the carpenter from carpenters pencil is back and struggling for inspiration because the lady of the wood won't let him see the shapes he need to see to make things. A bit like song writing, probably.

It's ten years since i cut the grain
Since i made a mark with a lathe or a plain
Ten years since the blade moved my hand
Shaving away what the wood would command
But She won't speak to me no  more
Won't reveal clues to what lies in the core
She'd take my heart and cut my hands 
cos I saw the face of her ever green man

A carpenter lives for the line
Mining the shapes from the circles of time
Just a pawn in natures old game
Breathing in life to what's felled by the chain
But she won't talk to me no more
Hours I stand but it's not like before
 She blunts the knife and soaks my tears 
Cos I know what's in store when the green man appears

Raise your glass

it turned into a drinking song. Funny how actually having a drink doesn't help the writing process much but it always seems to make good subject matter. The cough seems to have helped my voice a bit and of course introducing the new miss tanglewood herself. Have a listen on myspace/dombailed

Raise your glass

A holy communion of saints of the sewer
 is gathered around at my side
Criminals writers and poets and thieves
 I call brothers with some sense of pride.

There on the table lies jude the obscure
A prince among men in these parts
Known for his thinking 
But more for his drinking 
He'll live on in each of our hearts 

So raise your glass for one more round
So raise your glass for one more round

Got my looks from my father
Red eyes from my ma
And my purse from that guy on the floor
Got my boots from a priest making love in the park
So I don't think he cares anymore

Now I've travelled the world and sat in the shade
And watched death on a warm afternoon
I've broken the bread And bloodied the blade 
And forgone the sun for the moon

So raise your glass for one more round...

Now I still believe there is truth to be found 
at the bottom of each glass or jar
A whisper of angels vibrating around 
in your head  it hits the bar

Some people say that your wasting hour life
With your head in a muddle of clouds
But this holy communion of saints of the sewer
Is proud to be singing aloud

Raise your glass for one more round
Raise your glass for one more round

writing

but despite the lack of voice the pen keeps scribbling - new song opening line is A holy communion of saints of the sewer is gathered around at my side

silenced

flu then a cough then laryngitis - can't hold a note for toffee without sounding like a cross between film-voice-over man and a teenage boy - so no singing any time soon

open mic turn

Two songs at the open mic tonight - managed to forget a line of one and throw in an extra chord on the other - but hey they're my songs no one has heard before so no-one noticed.

Dead men's eyes

a story song about a writer/bard/balladeer who wants to write his own stuff rather than what he is paid to write. Don't know why really.

Dead men's eyes

I'm done with writing songs through dead men's eyes
The seas outside and I'm alive
I'm sick and tired of living this disguise
I want to hold a blade of grass
Live each death like my last
so kiss me now or cut me down to size

They got me writing hymns to former glories
Conquests of empires long ago
You know there's no truth to these sad stories
They're such a sorry sight
Basking in that light
So kiss me now or cut me down to size
kiss me now or cut me down to size

Well I'll sing a song for sixpence in the evening
And cut away the strings of this guitar
Lift up the veil you'll see me greiving
But I'm no history teacher
I'm not a prophet or a preacher
so kiss me now or cut me down to size
kiss me now or cut me down to size
kiss me now or cut me down to size

D c em
C d em
D c em
C em x2
C d em

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

carpenter's pencil

had an interesting conversation with my dad about this one and what it meant - he took it to mean something slightly different and less cynical than me. But then he is a vicar.

Carpenter's pencil

The carpenter's pencil sits behlnd my ear
And the jinn behind the other don't talk loud enough to hear
All the lines and revelations
In a desert full of song
No the carpenters just goes on and on and on

The carpenter's pencil scores out a line
There a bloody trail that lingers
For the cracks come in behind
All the lines...

Well the carpenter's pencil has given us a sign
Take the the world upon your shoulders
Leaves you splinters every time
All the lines...


Am c g

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Oh ma

Oh ma


Oh ma said the young boy
What I want to be, is a singer song writer like him on the street
The ladies will swoon
And I'll make love for free
Oh a singer songwriter's what I want to be

Well said his ma just listen to me:
You won't find the words and you'll cry in the night
You'll send them away cos their heart isn't right
You'll search for a woman who'll do you no wrong
But the one place you'll find her is inside your songs

You'll sulk like a schoolboy cos it's too hot to play
You'll moan like another cos it's raining all day
You'll howl like a dog cos you can't find a tune
And you'll sing at the lamplight and think it's the moon
Your scribbling and scratching will weaken your eyes
You'll sacrifice daylight for romantic lies
And the ladies adore you while you're on the stage
At the bar they'll ignore you and

So young singer song writer go ahead and you'll see
You dad was one too and he happened to me

Last will and testament of Jesse James's gun

I heard the phrase last and testament and wondered what things might have something really interesting to say in theirs.

Last will and testament of Jesse James's gun


This is the last will and testament of jesse James' gun
Well I'll be through with fighting after all of this is done
So sheriff if you prise me out of jesse's stone cold hands
You can strip me down and melt me into little frying pans

This is the last will and testament of old don quijote's horse
Nights of chasing windmills guess have finally run their course
At least I rode when chivalry could offer maidens hope
But Melt me down and give old sancho p here some nice soap

I'm making changes you might say
Spring clean me up for judgement day
Righting wrongs where I have strayed
So stop all the clocks
Throw me in a box
And I'll be on my wAy

This is the last will and testament of jesu cristo's cross
Now he's not hanging round here seems I'm at a little loss
There's some folk who will tell you they're sure he'll be back one day
So why not make me into furniture and sit around and stay

This is the last will and testament of the guy who wrote this song
He's hoping that it's premature cos he's still going strong
But if that long and lonely road is nearer than it's far
Stick him in his boots and lay him down with his guitar

Walk into the sea

walk into the sea

It's so funny I should find you here
Your eyes are wild and your head full of tears for
All the times you said goodbye
And all the times you asked yourself why

It's hard to keep your head in the clouds
And it's hard for you to think those dark thoughts aloud
And it's hard to see when all is black
And it's hard to dance with that devil on your back

Oh why was I told before
I could even be
Left alone to run before
I walked into the sea

It's hard to run on shifting sand and
It's hard for me to try to understand
Just how hard it is for you to run away
when it's so hard for me just try yo stay

Capo 1
Em c
G d c em

Break in the clouds

Another simple silly song. but the humour is probably lost in the background when played at a pub open mic night. Tune is Ok though

Break in the clouds

Well there's a break on the clouds now
And it's killing conversation
Hell I think I said that out loud
Don't mean to rain on your occasion

Oh girl I'm probably wrong
Oh girl it's just a silly song

We walked barefoot on the beach
You said I'm sand between your toes
Irritating sore and out of reach
And in your bed and in your clothes

Well I'm going to wait here for hours till Summer's brushed me from
her hair
I'll sit and watch while April showers
And I don't think that either care

G c d
Em c d

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Standing stones

see Green Man

Standing stones


Cigarette drips from his weathered face
A withered mind in this stony place
Black crow pecks a fallen dove
Spreads his wings to the sky above

And a cold wind cuts me to my bones
And I'm left screaming
screaming at the standing stones

Rich man paws the beggars grief
Steals the soul of self belief
A tailor tinkers with my mind
For a gypsy heart and a soldier spy

Maidens gathered in a round
Silence cuts the screaming sound
Stone feels warm to my cold hand
As my feet sink deep into the land

Am g dm f c dm
F f+2 dm f c c dm
C g am

Green man

Someone once said every Levellers song had the words "levelling the land" in it. Not ture but they do have recurrent themes. This and Standing Stones were written about the same time - after a trip to somne standing stones in south Wales and summer solstice at Avebury which may explain the similar themes

Green man

Stumbling out at closing time
The moon half lights my way
I hear a voice as old as time
It says you'll walk my way

Feel the wind
As it begins
Feel the driving rain
I am the voice
I am the choice
The lifeblood in your veins

Lashing out I try to stand
An old face meets my stare
Take my hand I'm the green man
Boy I'm everywhere

I was there when they carved the henge from stone
I was there when they carved that cross for Rome
I was there when In god we trust turned black
I'll be there in the morning
I'm coming back

have you seen a gargoyle smile
or held a scarecrow's hand?
Dig your feet into the soil
cos boy this is your land.

Feel the wind
As it begins
Feel the driving rain
I am the voice
I am the choice
The lifeblood in your veins

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Call to arms

I did hear someone say on the radio you don't get many political songs around nowadays. Where are the likes of Billy Bragg on Top of the Pops? Here's one with various references, including the police action against protesters at the G20 protests last year. One bystander died after being pushed to ground by police.

Call to arms

This is not a call to arms
Though there's fighting to be done
Fathers tend to your fathers' farms
And mothers tend to your sons'.

I wandered out one fine morning after cider with Rosie was done
But if the devil's not seen and if he's not heard
Does it mean that the angels have won?

This is not a call to arms
Or a rally to the gun
Live as you kneel with your head in the sand and you won't feel the
warmth of the sun

Centurions gather their legions, With the city tucked safe in behind
Closed circuit eyes watch the peaceful pass by
But to and justice they're blind

This is not a call to arms
Though many say it should be
No pasaran! Sang the last of the guard
And they earned the right to be free.

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Matador's wife

if only I could play flamenco style guitar to go with this. It's got a spanishy feel and the lyrics came out of "battered matador" - I just liked the sound it.

Matador's wife

Who'll buy a drink for an old battered matdador's wife?
Black as a shadow she sits at the bar
That carries his name and worships his old suit of lights
Smiling she holds back the tears as heavy as lead
She buried her heart on the sand where she last held his head.

Who'll buy a drink and remember his dance in the fight?
Pasos doblados he'd turn on his heel
Kneel before death and bring down the devil outright
Glory, she knows how it soon drains like blood in the sand
All that is left of their life is the ring on her hand.

Who'll buy a drink for a widow who no longer cares ?
Faded old posters look down from the walls, scarred with grafitti
stains and chewing gum stares.
Only the warmth of the sheets feels like love in the night
Buy me a drink and tomorrow we'll hide from the light.

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Boy at the bar

Boy chases girl, girl rejects boy. Boy give up on girl, girl wants boy

Boy at the bar


I'll write you a song if you paint me a picture 
Of just what takes to be there at your side 
come on now girl How can you resist 
Said the boy to the girl at the bar

I'll paint you a picture of cities of gold 
Where we'll live like kings and we'll never grow old
But that's just a dream cos you just leave me cold
Said the girl to the boy at the bar

I'll write you a song if you paint me a picture 
of just why the heart of a woman's so cold
Are you bewitched or do you love another
Said the boy to the girl at the bar

I'll paint you a picture of magical charms 
That won't break this spell or leave me in your arms
If hell feezes then you just might have a chance 
Said the girl to the boy at the bar

The boy at the bar said pour me another 
Put out these flames and I'll sing no more
Thank god for that said the girl to her mother
Now take me home boy boy at the bar.

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed

Facing south

this is reworking of a song I wrote when in a band with a few mates, which even then was a reworking of a poem I wrote when I was a student and couldn't play guitar. I suppose I really wanted to use it because of the opening line which I think is funny. It's not about looking across the Mediterranean from Gibraltar to Africa, from Texas to Mexico or from Wales to Devon. It's just a bit rude.


Facing south

She smiles when she is facing south
And her heart is all a flutter
A little death creeps from her mouth
then she gets up to close the shutters

I'm lying and I'm lying here again
In a nice warm bed that's not been made
By the same hands since I don't know when
Cos I guess by breakfast memories fade

There's a stone in my heart
And there's jam in the butter
If I said I loved you girl
It was just to mutter
Something else before
I gave away my final card
I should just walk away it's not that hard

she smiles when she is facing south
and her heart is all a flutter

http://www.myspace.com/dombailed