Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
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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 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 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 In North Sea In North Sea oil |
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2. |
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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 heavens' 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 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 heavens' heady wine 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 heavens' 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. 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 heavens' heady wine On the sky-line Orion |
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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. 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. 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. 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. 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. |
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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. 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. 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. |
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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. |
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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. |
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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 Your life is a clue in the crossword Your life is a clue in the crossword |
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11. |
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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 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 Up, ride with the kelpie I'll steal your soul to the deep |
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