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1. |
American Night part 1
04:12
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AMERICAN NIGHT
I.
“Repent you sinners repent”
That was the problem with travelling the highways of America by
bus
you can’t choose your companions
Somewhere west of Austin heading for New Orleans
the silence of the American night proved too much for one poor
soul
He clearly saw in our blighted shattered faces we all needed
salvation
Mexican, Texan, English he drew no distinction .
It was if our very presence here on a bus of all things
marked us out for his evangelical passion
The passion burned bright in his youthful eyes
the proud ancestor of fire breathing western preachers
a snake oil salesman of uneasy virtue
“Repent and come back to Jesus and the Lord will save you”
I wish he’d fuck off he scares me I don’t want to be saved
Not a word not a sound keep on staring straight ahead
next thing you know we’ll be victims of another mass shooting
dead
The whole bus is quietitude itself as this hurricane of
proselytisation raged
a tornado twisting up and down the aisle
Castigation and remonstration crushing the spirit with guilt
oh to be rescued by the silence of sleep .
Like all storms it blew itself out and peace resumed
a quickstop diner before our own Elmer Gantry is exhumed.
from a merciful sleep he didn’t stir
as dawn broke the daylight dimmed his ranting ire.
Houston, Galveston , Baton Rouge
Mississippi crossed in constant motion
far to the south the shimmering ocean.
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2. |
Referendumb
04:01
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REFERENDUMB
Where lies this Country you speak of so fondly
Is this the state we chopped off Charley’s head to create
Are these false debating monarchs of Suburbia the true heirs to
our magic kingdom
Kings and queens of all they survey and yet the unspeakable
future lies unsurveyed
A new National Lottery of whim to the the wind of fate
A play unwritten, uncast, untested, untried
Ah but the darkness beckons us all at times
and therein lies a morbid temptation to jump
When Its tea for two in a two up two down
with all our enemies faithfully gathered round
Beelzebuub whispers “jump, jump”
for the devil is not behind but in the detail
And in our embezzled minds twisted by
constantly battling lies and rapture
Lies the Holy Grail of Sainthood
our nations flag to capture
The Queen and everything Holy
“Is this the place you mean”??
Here where stands the clock that stood where time stands still
Where as children above the town upon the hill we played
and stood down our childish armies to dream of
a land of lost contentment far beyond the Division Bell
Those ever present chimes that dull the mind and sooth the sense
In our minds eye it was ever thus imagined
and so its own truth become
Footie in the street , gambols on the green
But the clock has ticked and played its merry joke
an age of change is worn as a heavy yoke
All that was good is memory disenchanted
is this the Country you speak of so fondly
is this the motion that conference granted?
Is this the clock that stood where time stands still?
The mechanism moves us to tears
The grapple and grind of moving gears
And what was once innocent is now lost
and all that was value now bears a cost
We sell our soul for the price of fame
to see others terrible lives ripped from the frame
of TV and social media page
In our withering anger and gunfire rage
is this the country you speak of so fondly?
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3. |
The Age Of rage
06:11
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THE AGE OF RAGE
This is the age of rage
two men trapped in a cage
Years in the making
moments in the breaking
Shouting and pouting
a Dog whistle brew
Grandstanding politics
nothing is new
Internet despair no one to care
God’s not forsaking cash in the raking
Universal credit a euphemism for dole
The peoples welfare out of control
Its money for nothing the foodbanks free
Doff your cap on bended knee
X factor shite drunk with the boys
Saturday night Guinness and golf game noise
Crisis at xmas homeless on the rise
Sleeping on the corners seeing it with your own eyes
This is the age of rage
two men trapped in a cage
Years in the making
minutes in the breaking
Shouting and pouting
a Dog whistle brew
Grandstanding politics
nothing is new
Burning books and online crooks
Art for arts sake and knowing looks
Anger at tomorrow anger at today
Rage against the Right wing rage against the left
Interwoven into society the warp and the weft
Coloured by the palette the Red white and blue
No grey men left standing no subtle hue
Rancour and wanker rip out the canker
The Cold war reason longing for the past
A new world order the threatened bomb and blast
Swapped for disorder the conundrum of chaos
The media darlings and lobbyists play us
This is the age of rage
two men entwined in a cage
Years in the making
minutes in the breaking
Shouting and pouting
a Dog whistle brew
Grandstanding politics
nothing is new
Fighting it out cat and mouse
town and country shotgun and grouse
A city under siege humanity surrounded
a distant front line sanity confounded
The noisy desperation
of a convulsing quiet nation
Enemies to the right of us and enemies to the left
the fabric torn the warp and weft
Fantastic plastic stretched elastic
a world at permanent breaking point
Industrial captains saints anoint
A ten round bout slugging it out
On the ropes of the ring say a prayer on a wing
To an age of rage two men in a cage
Sort it out no need to shout
Louder and louder Brexit is Brexit
Burning the buildings with no fucking exit
This is the age of rage
Two men trapped in a cage
Years in the making
Minutes in the breaking
Shouting and pouting
A Dog whistle brew
Grandstanding politics
Nothing is new
Two men in a pub there’s the rub
Golf club racism ever so polite
Blackball the bastards no need to fight
Bring back the fifties I was young and nifty
After the war we were oh so thrifty
Remember chrome
cars with wings
Our terraced home
women in the kitchen
Feckin gays
Left wing bullshit
political plays
Bring back national service
that’ll show this generation
Clink our glasses in bar room exultation
This is the age of rage
two men entwined in a cage
Years in the making
minutes in the breaking
Shouting and pouting
a Dog whistle brew
Grandstanding politics
nothing is new
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4. |
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BERLIN 1989
Nineteen eighty nine coming up to Christmas time
The markets lined the neon street
the Unter Den linden snow crisp feet
At the Kurfurstendamm everyone is shopping
a cornucopia of consumption
Shouted in neon jingle bells and jingled tills
a world away from a somnambulant east
where a family schism sets concrete hard against freedom
Checkpoint Charlie slipped behind the curtain
with glaring guards in the streets beyond
In a no mans land of museum time and aspic
the Brandenberger Tor is an island adrift
the Pergammon with its gunshot walls
Shell shock masonry still
Rainswept cobbled tramlines curved
Subterranean cast iron covers
Echoed steps with East German stars
no shops , no smiles nothing just shuffling papermache cars
At Friedrichstrasse bahnhof
a silent subway drama played
Criss crossing the invisible subterranean border
wall lights on carriages
windows mirrored faceless faces
Slipping back I took a hammer to the wall
built with all the bricks of my childhood
Chipped away at its painted western facade overlooking
Hitlers Bunker and the Potsdammerplatz
A rubicon was crossed
the people spoke the giant awoke
Crowbarred concrete and hammered at steel
Shoulder to the oppressor
reaching out across the border
A proclaimed end of history
a whole new world order
A generation of paint
graffiti skin deep
Hacked with a penknife
treasure to keep
I carried my little piece of history home on the plane
like a cake wrapped in tissue
to family and friends kept in a frame
It sits on a wall above my head
reminding me that history is never dead
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5. |
The Aleppo Merchant 1-3
04:46
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HUMANITY, HAS IT REALLY GOT ANY
Where will it end , heaven Knows
A Syrian doctor in a German Town
His two children their minds destroyed
by guns and tanks and bombs and savagery
as their father battled to stem the flow of blood,
casualties and dead, swimming around
the shattered ruins of Aleppo , his once home town
Humanity , has it really got any , It Must be an oxymoron
Its not hard to follow the tracks of their tears
Through the desert of a hundred years
A Tragedy in a sea of faces on an ancient Greek shore
People ask, Why are they coming here , what are they fighting for?
History the great orchestrator , the baton wield
the alchemist of war and the Magister of polity
Plays four dimensional chess in a multi dimensional world
The cogs turn , the moves are made , the machine grinds on its
gears
Humanity , has it really got any , It Must be an oxymoron
Somewhere In the Cradle of Civilisation
The colour book, palm topped Babylonian paradise
of Thesiger’s Marsh arabs , BOAC and psychoPathe Newsreels
we were always pouring petrol on the fire
Oiling the wheels of war and privilege
its small wonder that Middle Eastern minds
turn to Religion and revolution
and sends its children in a wave of fatal retribution
Humanity , has it really got any , It Must be an oxymoron
THE ALEPPO MERCHANT
Unimaginable the sound and fury
Concrete crystallised, Steel bars vaporised
The Speed of light , the bomb the plight
The sewer cracked , rattled and smacked
The windows cave and glass shard smashed
Floors collapse and walls despair
Blood runs red amid burning hair
Crossfire caught tween a hard placed rock
No justice ceasefire no man in the dock
Let the bombs fall and the guns rattle
Let the jaw jaw creak and commentariat prattle
For a momentary view through children’s eyes
Hell revisited daily from sky blue skies
In the name of progress in the name of God
For another small grave in a far flung cemetery trod
For a world of barter and chess play Kings
Swap Bishops for pawns in a game that nobody wins
Reducing buildings and bodies to their component parts
Ripping up hospitals and tearing out hearts
No food but the cannon fodder cooked up every day
In an endless price war where only the helpless pay
But for a moments quiet to contemplate
The thoughts of a child amid all that hates
What the fucks the point of those pearly gates
THE ALEPPO MERCHANT ( part 2)
On the road to Carno
The switchback
greysnake twist and turn
Hedgerowed and white lined
far flung Mountain fern
We are all immigrants here
Seeking asylum from the day to day
the grind and grapple
the constant wordplay
We bury our hearts in the very soil
Scale the rocks in naked toil
Tear up the terrible
Seek solace from the violence
Of the TV tyrants
and the media anti silence
In wave upon wave
we storm the enclave
And I the immigrant here
the refugee from fear
In the clockface hour
it takes to drink
To consume a pint
to stop and think
Another child dies
amid the human cries
Of the TV times
with its gutter rhymes
Its blaring voice
its agonising choice
Of image and Bite
Of Love and shite
I drink my drink
and bide my time
In the Aleppo Merchant
with its hanging sign
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6. |
Will One Day Be Released
03:27
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WILL ONE DAY BE RELEASED
When our anger and our hatred
Our misery and greed
Has been banished gone forever
We will once again be free
Its not the money nor the profit
Not possessions nor for gain
But the healing and foregiveness
That will help us live again
Its the strength of our believing
Not the guns that win the fight
And our conscience that will guide us
To know what’s wrong from right
And when all the wars are over
And the struggle it has ceased
All our sadness pain and sorrow
Will one day be released
Silence has been broken
Our fear is overcome
When our voice has finally spoken
The time will surely come
When the children of our children
Lay down their arms at last
And learn to live together
Oh the day will come to pass
For its our hope and our salvation
Our faith in humanity
That will bring us all together
So that once again we’re free
And when all the wars are over
And the struggle it has ceased
All our sadness pain and sorrow
Will one day be released
And when all the guns are silent
And the earth is left at peace
All our sadness pain and sorrow
Will one day be released
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7. |
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ZETLAND AT THE EDGE OF THE WORLD
At the Edge of the world
the sea spray steals the breath
The Cliff top soar and wavespout roar
fragile felt the careful step.
The tempting edge
the lingering ledge
Pound the water smoke stack
unearthly the power
The Viking roar , the Greenland shore
America beyond the Transatlantic pond
Zetland , Up Helly Aa and pagan hearts
uplift the wind, roll out the charts
Hoist the sail and set the course
for better hope to pray for worse
For new lands beyond the edge of the world
the temptation to fly
to jump itself an end to die
In vision of sky and voice of sea,
at one with heaven and earth and you and me
And at the edge of the world
the rocks bright wet shine
Cold water slap face
and stinging brine
Everything a constant rage
a Furious fire of battling forces
Where rocksplit crack and water courses
form the theatre round
The savage spit the cauldron boom
The echoed blast, the cave , the watery tomb
The wreck and wrack
and the graveyard ship
Careful now the fleet of foot
careful lest you slip
And beyond the waves the flume and steam
above the horizon dare to dream
In Zetland at the edge of the World
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Eddy Morton Stourbridge, UK
As the founder member of The New Bushbury Mountain Daredevils Eddy Morton toured the UK and Europe constantly for eleven years releasing 8 albums During which time the band appeared at every major Folk/Roots Festival in the UK and Europe including Cambridge, Cropredy, Skagen, Guildford, Dranouter, The Badentreffen and many more. His latest solo release Rainbow Man is available on iTunes ... more
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