Black tobacco (she tastes like)

No one in particular really. But what if a smell or taste could bring something or someone back - really bring them back rather than just a memory of them. So an unrequited ghost voodoo love song. I think the idea comes from a few candomble sessions I attended in Brazil a while ago. Cigarettes and rum play a large part in the ceremony and woe betide anyone crossing their arms and legs. The guitar was quite tricky even though I made it up myself but finally think I nailed it - although this is just a rough recording.


She tastes like black tobacco


A taste, a kiss unlocks the mind
Puts skin and flesh upon the bones of time
The light plays tricks and dances on the floor
Then she is standing there once more

She tastes like black tobacco
black tobacco
Her heart is black tobacco
black tobacco

I'd watched and caught her eye sometimes
I've caught my breath as hers met mine
A smile that dances on those lips devine
She shakes her head, it's so unkind

She tastes like black tobacco
black tobacco
Her heart is black tobacco
black tobacco

Don't cross your arms before me child
Don't cross your heart and hope to die
We all fade through the rolling mists of time
But breath is blessed and love is blind

She tastes like black tobacco
black tobacco
Her heart is black tobacco
black tobacco

Homecoming: a song for remembrance day

There was a very good Panorama on a while back called Forgotten heroes - what happens to soldiers when they leave the army. It was a candid look at their lives and how their experiences of training , the army and war had affected them. Coupled with reading reports of other inquests of bomb disposal experts killed in Afghanistan, a few phrases and images stuck in mind mind and I wrote this.


Homecoming

I should've stood in the doorway and shaken the sand from my boots
Got a kiss from my wife and my kid as he fumbles and roots
for the presents he knows that I've stored
In the Bergen a few days before,
Before my homecoming,
Last days of the tour.

I should've stood on the pavement,
my heart beating time with the crowds
Pressed my hand to the glass and wondered aloud
Just who why and what is it for?
Or at we just settling scores?
Before my homecoming,
Last days of the tour.

And there's no sand in the valley still
And there's no sand in the valley still
Just a little boy standing alone
And his voice on a satellite phone
"take your time daddy
But it's time to come home"

I should have turned out the lights and retreated into my shell
Faced the demons, the vampires the blood and the hell
But every man's trying to hide
the child that is hiding inside
Before my homecoming, last days of the tour.

I should have stood in the doorway and shaken the sand from my boots
Took the praise and the medal, all the salutes.
But a shadow moves over the shire
I'm freed just by cutting the wire
Its my homecoming, last days of the tour.

And there's no sand in the valley still
And there's no sand in the valley still
Just a little boy standing alone
And his voice on a satellite phone
"take your time daddy
But it's time to come home"


Homecoming