1. |
Changing
03:52
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If you could do anything
And always have your own way...
What would you change
About the way you live today?
Would it just be the tiles on the bathroom floor?
Or the way you do your hair?
Or are you sure there’s something more
Waiting for you out there?
When you think back to when you were seventeen...
How does your life match up
To your teenage dreams?
Did you hold out to get the best?
What was THAT all about?
Or did you settle for something less?
And how did THAT work out?
Chorus:
I’ve done some things
And I’ve seen some stuff
And I’ve said things I know I never should
But I’ve survived.
And now I’m old enough to know
That changing isn’t always good.
So even if I could...
I don’t think I would.
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2. |
Elephants
03:43
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My friend, Vanessa Jones, from Primary School
Said that she’d read
That all the elephants
Would be dead soon.
And I ran home to my mum,
And asked if it was true, and she said
She didn’t think people were that foolish or cruel.
Well it seems her faith
Was sadly misplaced
We should be grateful I suppose
That nearly 50 years on,
Not all the elephants have gone.
It’s never too late
For people to procrastinate...
They told us in ‘86
That there was trouble in the air.
And we said we’d fix it,
But we’re just not getting there.
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3. |
Dead End Road
03:50
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Never one to tow the line,
Never one to be told.
Not the kind to count the time.
Impossible to hold.
You knew how you could could shine,
Though you rarely let it show.
You took one look at the warning sign,
And headed off down a dead end road.
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4. |
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We only ever knew how to build a house on sand,
Held together with string and rubber bands.
And when the roof blew off,
We sat there, stupid, in the rain.
Each one hoping
It might just blow back on again.
Time, like water,
Running through our fingers.
It was never going to stand.
It was never strong enough –
The architecture of our love
Only time will tell if anything we’ve done,
or made or said
Will get to leave a trace.
Good intentions buried deep
Like broken bones in layers.
A vague impression of a face.
When we’re long gone
And unremembered,
I’d be surprised, if anything survived
Of the archaeology of our lives
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5. |
His Twisted Fingers
06:05
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In his high-back, blue vinyl chair
Between the potted plant and the Expelair...
A slick of Brylcreem still in his hair,
He’ll talk to anybody there.
He’s always got a story or three –
Though his memory’s not what it used to be.
Sometimes the faces don’t fit
Sometimes the places contradict
But his twisted fingers still twitch
Above a piano that isn’t there.
Not an inch of skin that’s slack.
Her long silver hair tied tightly back.
Shrunken eyes, just pools of black –
She’s poised - She’s ready for the attack.
Her back is perfectly straight
Though she only has the weight of a girl of eight.
Every meal time with her
Becomes a complicated pas-de-deux
As she twist her neck away
Like a dying bird
Her dignity intact.
He turns his head towards the light
Where he sees silhouettes in black and white
And with his finger he traces out the lines
That the sunlight fleetingly defines
He reaches out for his cup
And with trembling hands he picks it up.
He gives his tired eyes a rub,
And then he lets his eyelids drop.
And he starts to sketch and colour-block
The landscapes in his mind.
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6. |
Not Quite Ready
05:03
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There’s a photograph of my dad and me
When I was about 13
Both of us staring out to sea
Just inches in-between.
Both of us standing the same way
With our weight twisted to the right...
But within three years, we wouldn’t breathe the same air
Without a fight.
But not quite yet
We still had a bit of time left
Before I’d cross every line
And break each limit that he set.
I was not quite ready
For the inevitable step.
But when I left,
The main thing on my mind
Was just how far away I could get.
The last time I saw him, I cut his nails
Because nobody else there would.
Truth to tell –
It didn’t go all that well –
These days my eyesight’s not that good.
He didn’t open or move his eyes.
Not a sound came from his lips.
But the man I knew – I still recognised
When I nicked his fingertips!
Not quite dead.
Still a bit of fight in the old man yet.
I’ve no idea what was in his head,
But quite clear what that reaction said:
He was
Not quite ready
To let them nail down the lid
And when I left, he squeezed my hand.
Or at least, I think he did.
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7. |
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Just What You’re Looking For
Lyrics and Music – Greg Hancock 2021
Sometimes you see someone wearing something
And you think it looks good...
And you ask yourself if you could get away with it too –
And convince yourself you could.
So you spend the whole day shopping,
Just trying to find something in your size
And take it triumphantly to the till
Ignoring the shop assistant’s eyes
And you take it home, hang it up and never put it on.
And you convince yourself
There’s going to be the right occasion.
Until the day you hold it to the light
And suddenly you’re sure
Though it’s just what you were looking for...
You don’t want it any more.
Sometimes you meet someone and they seem to have it all:
Money in the bank, good sense of humour
Nice friends – not too short or tall!
And though you rate your chances pretty small
You’re ready to catch with both hands when they throw you the ball.
And you take them home, live with them for a while
And they make you smile –
And you convince yourself that you can keep up with their style
Until the day you hold them to the light
And suddenly feel sure
Though they are just what you were looking for...
You don’t want them any more.
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8. |
This Day, Like All Days
03:25
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9. |
Peaches and Cream
05:44
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You know when you have that thing in your head
Going round and round
But you just can’t put your finger on it.
It might be something someone said – you just can’t pin it down.
And then, later on, asleep in bed
In your head you’re just about to reach out and taste
The peaches and cream...
When you have a rude awakening
From the middle of a beautiful dream
You know the one I mean... the one with the hair...
He was in that film....his name’s on the tip of my tongue...
But it just won’t come.
Don’t ask me my home number! I never get it right.
And in a certain light.... you can still convince yourself
You really haven’t changed that much since you were thir forty-one
And then you have a rude awakening
When the bathroom light goes on.
We all think that we’re so good at reading faces, but
Faces tell lies
I looked for the truth in all the usual places
And I found it in the dark recesses of your beautiful eyes.
You know when you go to a brand new place,
And you look around and suddenly feel you’ve been there before
(though it’s just not possible)
Or you go back to your old home town
And can’t remember North from South.
And then you look at the one you love
And sometimes they might as well be someone you’ve never seen
Then you’ve had a rude awakening
From the middle of a beautiful dream
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Greg Hancock Exeter, UK
Singer/songwriter and guitarist based in Devon, England.
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