1. |
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If Ireland is the stepmother of America
and America the crystal ball
she gave away
well I must be
the fortune-teller’s grandson
come to polish it up
in a groovy kind of way
a groovy kind of way
If words are the six strings of a guitar
and the guitar is the story of today
well I must be the dictionary’s tightrope
c’mon walk on me
in a groovy kind of way
a groovy kind of way
You asked me what I did
and what I wanted to do
this is the only way
that I can explain to you
and it’s true
If Eve was the one who bit the apple
and Adam was the one
who wrote the play
well I’d rather not be Shakespeare
but the apple
and get peeled in a groovy kind of way
If Cherry has billion-dollar lipstick
and her smile is always telling me to stay
well I must be the richest man in history
in a groovy kind of way
a groovy kind of way
You asked me what I did
and what I wanted to do
this is the only way
that I can explain to you
and it’s true
If Ireland is the stepmother of America
and America the crystal ball
she gave away
well I must be
the fortune-teller’s grandson
come to polish it up
in a groovy kind of way
a groovy kind of way
I’m feeling
GROOVY
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2. |
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I can feel the breeze freeze
in the leaves on the trees
and the radio down on Margaret Street
this autumn must be coming on
quicker than I ever expected
and the girls down on the block
are singing so softly
it’s at times like these
that everything falls into perspective
And you ask me what I’m thinking
why that’s impossible to say
in your arms I’m a million miles away
It all happened so fast
I knew it would last
until one of us had to crash
only thing is
I always thought it would be me
and I still can see your face as you turned
into a long-lost photograph
you always moved so gracefully
And you asked me
what I’m singing about
well it must just be the time of the day
in your arms I’m a million miles away
And you asked me to forget about you
to that what else is there to say
except look up at the stars
they’re a million miles away
look up at the stars
they’re a million miles away
look up at the stars
they’re a million miles away
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3. |
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The lights are low in Ireland tonight
and I’m on the northern highway
the goats are in the garden
and the radio’s playing My Way
my car’s seen better days
none of them with me
and this fine white line’s the borderline
separating you and me
Well I’m thinking about a friend of mine
he says ‘I’ve got so many strings to my bow’
I said ‘If you want to follow the easy road
you better follow the one you know’
He ended up in the middle of the road
I wound up on six string street
he’s happy today
in the middle of the road
and I’m on six string street
I worked in an office into ’86
and the walls were painted grey
but I still get fluorescent flashes
out on this northern highway
not about my employment
it was no big deal
but a girl I knew was the one who
changed the way I feel
she says ‘I know you care about this affair
but it can’t go on you know’
I said ‘If you’re looking for your
Home Sweet Home
you better just get up and go’
She ended up in the middle of the road
I wound up on six string street
she’s happy today
in the middle of the road
and I’m on six string street
Rockin’
Now I’ve found myself in the countryside
maybe later on I’ll settle down
my heart is in these fields
and my true love’s still in the town
she says ‘I can’t sort out my life
and I certainly can’t sort out you’
I said ‘baby that’s the last thing
I hoped that you would do’
Come with me
and set yourself free
straight down the middle of
six string street
Come with me
and set yourself free
straight down the middle of
six string street
This is the circus and this is the train
goes down the middle of six string street
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4. |
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Your jail sentence jewellery
packed up with my tomfoolery
in your case
inside folded late edition newspapers
telling of crimes of passion
committed in haste
you called a taxi from the coast
driven by one of your
previous lovers’ ghosts
he’s calling at three
but he ain’t calling for me
the way you’re looking
you hardly can wait
for the freeze-out
Your high-wire security
is protected the cruelty that you wear
it’s murderously beautiful
as it hovers through the fog
and through your hair
you’ve got a list of famous people
who can’t be loved
they can only be bought
jack-knife justice blinds
my telephone lines
the way you’re leaving
you’re leaving me in no doubt
this is the freeze-out
TV Cubans whisper crisp conundrums
In these doldrums of the days we’ve spent
after all the future promised
I’m confounded
by just too much present tense
of all the hours God gave me
there are none I’d rather be without
God wears different clothes
but everybody knows
you’re naked on fortune’s roundabout
spinning into the freeze-out...
While heavens hammer window panes
it’s Cupid’s rain that twists into my soul
the person whom I spoke to
had your name
but that was all
may your roses bloom
in somebody else’s room
you were always driven by your heart
the clouds are opening
the weather exploding
I surrender to nature’s invisible art
of a freeze-out
This is the freeze-out
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5. |
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You think you are the civilised epitome
of earth and fire and water
wind and sky and sea
but we ride a slow train
from hope to despair
and life’s great mystery
is reclining in your hair
Don’t you know
you just jumped out of a tree
can’t you see
we just jumped out of a tree
The Earth is heating up
and it’s cooling down
there’s planes falling out of the sky
the Ayatollah’s screaming MURDER
at some literary guy
have we learnt nothing
about where we’ve been
has all of history
been nothing but a dream
Don’t you know
you just jumped out of a tree
can’t you see
we just jumped out of a tree
Beat your wings
shake your tail
stamp your feet
woman and wail
spread your wings and you will see
that we
we just jumped out of a tree…
Have you been savaged
by the sweet smell of success
where nobody dares to say no
and everybody’s yelling yes
thank God for my guitar
and your pretty little drumming shoes
better turn it up real real loud
we got nothing left to lose
Don’t you know
we just jumped out of a tree
can’t you see
we just crawled out of the sea
Don’t you know
we just jumped out of that tree
can’t you see
we just crawled out of the sea
Just crawled out of the sea
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6. |
20 Years (himself live)
04:07
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They talk and they torture
and murder with words
and delight in the violence
the whole world observes
while criminal protection
is all that they serve
The deaths they are many
and the words are all worn
with twenty years gone
can another twenty be borne?
The trains they have stopped
and the barns are all empty
except for money for guns
of that there’s still plenty
to provide the newspapers
with another obscenity
The deaths they are many
and the words are all worn
with twenty years gone
can another twenty be borne?
Whose land is this?
Let it be known
that a life is a life
wherever you’re born
and when you bash your Bible
you cast the first stone
The deaths they are many
and the words are all worn
with twenty years gone
can another twenty be borne?
And your words that are evil
and your people who have died
will come back to curse you
wherever you hide
The political facts
are as clear as the sky
on a December day
when the river runs high
the political facts
are just you and I
The deaths they are many
and the words are all worn
with twenty years gone
can another twenty be born?
And these words they are wasted
and the deaths they are torn
from the womb of the land
born only in war
And these words may be wasted
but not if you hear
the sound of the next twenty
coming near
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7. |
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Home county night
October ’74
a couple quickly kissed
and headed for the door
no one around
heard the getaway car roar
cos the bar room soldiers
they were yelling out for more
the bomb blew at nine
and the soldiers they died
we’ve got to catch the guilty
no one can deny
We’d better round up somebody
call them The Guildford Four
doesn’t matter who
just as long as there are four
Three men off the Belfast boat
met up in London with a girl
on the DHSS line
they hung out in a squat
stoned most of the time
they took it all so easy
and watched the world go by
not society’s favourites
but that ain’t a crime
We’d better round up somebody
call them The Guildford Four
stick them inside so fast
their feet don’t even touch the floor
So they rounded up these
crack terrorist bums
and took them all away
in black ambulances
painted especially for the day
at the trial their alibis were
fatally misproved
the judge he cracked his knuckles
for the six o’clock news
with sheep written on your foreheads
you better watch out for the wolves
We’d better round up somebody
call them The Guildford Four
stick them inside and slam that
patriotic door
Seven weeks later
at the Balcombe Street siege
the police caught the criminals
who confessed to the deed
they said ‘you got the wrong guys’
but the appeal was rejected
the sentence said ‘natural life’
and the law cannot correct it
Better round up somebody
call them The Guildford Four
because we named them
they must be The Guildford Four
Victims of circumstance
call it what you will
when you next walk out the door
they’ll be lying there still
hear their families crying
they’ll be lying there still
justice better get up off its ass
well I hope that it will
We’d better round up somebody
call them The Guildford Four
one day they name you guilty
next thing you find out that you are
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8. |
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Sally plucks her eyebrows
and steals a cigarette
from under the nose
of the one she supposes
is as good as she’s gonna get
if it wasn’t for her family situation
if it wasn’t for his Vauxhall Chevette
if it wasn’t for their
forthcoming engagement
she’d be running away from him
far far away from him
forgetting they’d ever met
On her own
under the pale moonlight
Little Jimmy feels like Oliver Twist
he’s on the Victorian rock’n’roll
the government have granted him
a brand new begging bowl
if it wasn’t for his scrapheap education
if it wasn’t for his poverty
strike-struck stroll
if it wasn’t for the money
dispensed on the defence of his nation
he’d be fed and clothed
and fit and well
to climb right out of that hole
On his own
under the pale moonlight
The Shakespeares have got every
bohemian qualification
they’ve even got a portrait of a photocopy
of their upwardly mobile home
if it wasn’t for the advertising screening
and it wasn’t for the size
of a portable phone
if it wasn’t for the dinner party
this evening
I get the feeling
they’d rather be
just a little more alone
On their own
under the pale moonlight
Everything goes round in circles
and the ties that bind you
seem like they’ll never end
this boat is leaking
some people say it's sinking
this is a fine time to leave me
my friend
Now you’re asking me why it was
I first fell in love with you
you’re asking me to tell you
and to tell you true
it wasn’t for the look in your eyes
that evening
and it wasn’t for what happened
later that night
it was the sight of you
your face turned up to
God's blue impossible light
the pale moonlight
I'm talking about the pale
the pale moonlight
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9. |
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I had to get back to Belfast City
where the jeeps are green
and the girls are pretty
London town’s been getting me down
got to get out
before the leaves turn brown
You and me both
heading North
backdoor drifters
on an exile’s course
Belfast city
but it could be anywhere
we’re birds of passage
flying through the air
Birds of passage
leaving no forwarding address
no name no number no nationality
and no need to even impress
The marching band plays
snare-shot tirades
while Mother Ireland sways
like a stripper on stage
and the politicians mix religious drinks
with a twist of the tricks they nicked
from all the Old Testament plagues
You and me both
staying up late
playing tapes
well past the sell-by date
Birds of passage
leaving no forwarding address
it pays to wait all week to discover
Sunday’s best
Everything American is on sale
because it happened in a movie
so long ago
up and down the women go
talking about the cinema
on the Sandy Row
You and me know
being born here
wanting to leave
is like learning how to breathe
For us birds of passage
leaving no forwarding address
me in my passport suit
you in your non-political party dress
Now it’s getting near time
to be moving on
getting restless doesn’t take that long
I’ll meet you at the clock
down by the docks
where the birds swoop down
from their parking lots
You and me both
driven so close
the pillow is our pillar
and the coast our post
Birds of passage
we’re leaving no forwarding address
oh when we fly this close
I can almost feel your
your breath
Birds of passage
flying from the face of failure
right into success
too much
no today no tomorrow
don’t they even know
the meaning of the word yes
They should try a little hometown
a little hometown tenderness
I’d rather have roses than guns
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10. |
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He came with his saints
his pen and his thoughts
and a very neat line
in all the clothes he had bought
he got a nice nice suit
and a big big drink
this is the guy –
well what do you think?
Good luck St. Patrick today
He came in the year of God knows when
he got saints and scholars
whores and robbers
and a load of hens
he got a very neat line in
nothing in particular
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11. |
COWP #1 (himself live)
01:04
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LOVE YOU I
YOU LOVE I
I YOU LOVE
YOU I LOVE
OH YEAH
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12. |
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I’m walking past
your place today
wondering what
we’re gonna say
I’ve been thinking about
turning you loose
and that maybe today
we’d be telling each other the truth
but we’ll never
I’ll be loving you forever
That’s the whole
the whole love story
Well the hazy rain’s gone
and I’m starting to learn
you’ve got to light whatever you want
then let it burn
I see an open window
I see your open mind
I’m thinking maybe this is the time
that we should unwind
unwind
but you’ll never
I’ll be loving you forever
That’s the whole
the whole love story
The beginning and the middle
and the end
chapters one two three four five six
seven eight nine and ten
tell it to me
the whole love story
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13. |
COWP #2 (himself live)
01:16
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It comes
in a dream and it leaves
and it seems to be magic
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Andy White Belfast, UK
Belfast songwriter, has guitar wants to travel. Latest album - Good Luck I Hope You Make It
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