Your friend from next door was round again,
telling me he knew what we'd been through,
as his house was too small and he
was going to have to move.
And his son had had his struggles
with the piano,
and for weeks had gotten by with no sleep.
The dog saw tooth had kept
them full awake,
lost and scurrying with worry.
So maybe we could bond now over a drink or
at least I could play at their wedding for
free as a favour,
now we are the best of friends.
And I tried to tell them of the last wedding I played,
where it had been suggested I'd
just straight in drunk for some nearby
Irish bar.
It'd do me good to leave the house
He did say.
But I've been out all week.
We just keep different hours.
And I think of
Guy
Fawke's signature,
before and after torture.
Run the world he'd been through
To change his whole demeanour
Maybe I should buy myself a
Japanese fighting dog
To ease my dealings with the world I
can wave at everyday passers -by
Tip my hat and twinkle my eye I can
fold my arms and smile like the next
man I can listen in and understand
I'm sure I can.
Your friend from next door
came round again.
He bought some good coffee,
some cheese that was just destined for the bin.
Even the cat didn't touch it,
just turned on its nose and fled.
To the safety of your side of the bed.
I almost invited him in,
he said he had a book to show me.
Some autobiography of a silver
-screened harmonica man.
I smiled and told him...
We call it a movie.
But he didn't quite understand.
He asks...
You like real music,
don't you?
Sure, I like
Billie
Holiday, doobie -doobie -do.
I think of
Guy
Fawkes' signature,
the foreign after -torture.
What in the world they are going through,
will it change their whole demeanour?
And some of us are born with a love, we never fall out,
we never notice, we barely care.
And some lovers decide that hate is the best way forward,
they cannot control what they
feel in any other way.
Well that's not me.
Isn't that what you just
heard me say?
Some of us are born with a luck, we never fall out,
we never notice, we barely care.
But some lovers decide that hate is the best way forward,
they cannot control what they
feel in any other way.
Well that's not me.
Isn't that what you've just
heard me say?
Sure, sure, I'll have a wee down the
beach. I'm good by the sea.
Or I'm okay, anyways.
You know, I used to think those
dunes were haunted.
But it was just the wind, and the
grass, and the confusion of youth.
We'll love it here.
We're a friendly bunch, I suppose.
Just be sure to believe
what we believe
And it was not the spirits
that bent those
branches
Just the topsoil reaping off the fields
I used to shelter there with my others
Turn the lights off,
lay back and watch the
stars
And I can blame the priests,
I can blame the
cold I can blame the dark and the rank bad lot
I can blame my trust in nature
In the proclamations of strangers
But it's all just spit on the fire
Seen in the sun
And then the long walk
home
And I think of
Guy
Fawkes and
Richard
Before and after torture
What in the world are we going through
Let's change our whole demeanor