1. |
My List
03:46
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I knew a man - a complicated man - back in '92.
A Marmite man... half the world took exception to.
He didn't suffer fools gladly
But he loved his jazz.
He sang badly
but gave it everything he had.
But my main memory of Martyn is this -
His was the first name on my list.
It was a time - a confusing time - a time of disconnect
Mostly the world turned just fine
While all around us lives were wrecked.
Saturdays were for funerals
With sandwiches and cake
Before we'd all head down town to forget it all...
And not be too fussy what we'd take.
A street. A tree. A smell.
Can bring it all back somehow.
Their names are still so clear to me
But, pre-mobilephone, their faces faded now.
Martyn
Clive and Ollie
Steven, Christopher and John.
And Patrick..... that everyone called Polly....
30 years they've been gone.
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2. |
Gary's Song
03:36
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I never had great expectations
I knew that nothing much gets served up on a plate.
But my mum said that good will come
to those that wait.
And for a while it even seemed
I might get a shot at living my dream
But circumstances forced the choice I had to make
It's not like the stories that your mother told you
No sign of glory though you sold your soul for it
Just another Monday morning in a job you've come to hate
And a pile of bills that are overdue
And the threatening letters aimed at you
Saying what they're going to do
If they don't get paid.
The world my mother sees
Is a world where small seeds get to grow into tall trees
But that's never been the world I found.
What she doesn't seem to get
Or maybe just conveniently forgets
Is that most small seeds will fall on stony ground.
It's not like the stories that your mother told you
No sign of glory though you sold your soul for it
Just another Tuesday morning in a job you've come to hate
Another month when you get to choose
Between the bills and your kids' new shoes
As you wait for the news
To decide your fate.
I can see you looking at me.
And muttering about responsibility.
But I never had great expectations
I knew that nothing much gets served up on a plate
But my mum said that good will come
To those who wait.
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3. |
The Devil's Hour
03:24
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guitar instrumental
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4. |
Flags and Flowers
05:16
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Here come the young men. Who’s laughing now?
The tired young men. Who’s laughing now?
Some reluctant, some triumphant,
It doesn’t matter anyhow.
One one thing’s certain – there’ll be fewer old men now.
Here are their wives and mothers. Who’s laughing now?
Sisters and younger brothers. Who’s laughing now?
Burying their tears in national pride and sentiment
They wave flags and flowers
As they say goodbye to them.
And the priests and the patriarchs. Who’s laughing now?
The sycophants and oligarchs. Who’s laughing now?
Hitching their fortunes to their president
They wave flags and flowers
And the churches sing “Amen”.
Here are the old men. Who’s laughing now?
The grey old men. Who’s laughing now?
Raging and impotent, they sit behind their desks
Pointing fingers at a map
And deciding who dies next.
And here we are. Who’s laughing now?
All of us here. Who’s laughing now?
We say it’s different here… we see the world through different eyes,
But we wave flags and flowers
Flags and flowers
Flags and flowers…
When a rich old woman dies.
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5. |
A Parallel Universe
03:01
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Is there a version of this conversation
That doesn’t end with you walking out the door?
A way that we could both agree
To fight on a little more?
A Parallel Universe
where we give ourselves another chance…
And don’t have to admit that this is it:
The end of the dance.
We saw it all coming
We can’t blame it on surprise.
We stood in the way of the oncoming train
With wide open eyes.
Maybe a novelist could find a twist
And get a better ending than this…
Open new doors, set a new course
That just ignores the way it is.
Perhaps someone could write a song
That offers hope of escape…
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no
It ain’t me babe.
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Greg Hancock Exeter, UK
Singer/songwriter and guitarist based in Devon, England.
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