She'll dance

See how she dances in bangles and rings
Kicks up the sand and all manner of dreams
Lost in her thoughts with the god of all things 
And she'll dance

Dawning of daylight goes noticed unseen
She waves at the waves like a child in a dream
Bangles keep time with the tide's tambourine
And she'll dance 
And she'll dance

Spinning, the colours all fade into one
Dizzy, the daylight takes leave of the sun
Rainbows need water or they'll come undone
And she'll dance

Softly her eyes fill with tears of remorse
Heart beats unkindly as time takes its course
But doubts leave her mid as the dance fuels her force 
And she'll dance
And she'll dance

Row row row me ashore
Row row row me ashore
Row row row me ashore
And I'll take her hand once more

They say that the tide will not wait for a man
But she'll mark the seasons till he takes her hand
Back to the warmth of her bed on the sand
And she'll dance

Eighty four years she's been dancing alone
For eighty more, till her lover comes home,
She'll watch the shore and the sunsets alone
And she'll dance
And she'll dance
And she'll dance
And she'll dance


Original idea was slightly different

She dances in bangles and sandals 
Scuffing up sand beneath her feet
Ankle bracelets shimmer in the evening sun
 and she dances on despite the heat

For eighty long years she's been  dancing
Waiting for her lover on the shore
Four score years no longer mean a thing
And she'll spin on for a nother eighty more

Calling of the search

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.