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'Tide' lyrics
When 'Tide' was released for reasons of cost the sleeve was printed without a lyric book. Due to a number of requests we have published them here. Please feel free to download them, but if you wish to re-produce them in any other form please state that they are 'Reprinted by kind permission of Well Played Music Ltd'. |
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| Unless stated otherwise all songs were written by Chris Payne and Tim Vince. | |||||||
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Ignore the Living World The Leylandii bushes growing, The tops of the roofs just showing, There are no life signs you can tell. The oakwood doors shut tight, Secure both day and night, Each house a cosy velvet cell. Chorus: So ignore the living world, And turn in upon yourself, Humanity’s a chore. Stare out blankly through the glass, Watch the seasons as they pass, That was your life you saw. No strangers break the curfew, The polite “How can I help you?” Simply means “What are you doing ‘round here?” (Chorus) A Million Faces When you’re judged upon just one glance, You care, If you know that was your one chance, Then swear, That the walls and bars need removing, This land, Improving. Chorus: Around you see a million faces, A changing blend of different races, This philosophy embraces, All people equally. Its been the way throughout the ages, New ideas to fill the pages, Celebrate as England changes, Make this the place to be. With the global village shrinking, It’s clear, What drives narrow backward thinking, Is fear, And a better world now to live in, Is a goal, Worth achieving. (Chorus) When the men of hate come calling, Stand firm, When we disregard their warning, They’ll learn And the cries of conflict are muted, When each pure race, Is diluted. The Wrecking Light (God save us) In the cold dawn a man walks along the foreshore, Searching out the prize he claimed last night. Stares at the ship, splintered timbers pointing skywards, Killed by the false hope - the wrecking light. (God save us) Hardens his heart to the crew who drowned in terror, Shuts out of his mind their frightened moans. Shrugs at the sight of the men who could be neighbours, Water and the sun will bleach their bones. (God save us) The Slaver Oh I come from the West Country, Of suffering I can tell, I’ve seen such wickedness out on the sea, From men who should burn in Hell. For a while I had no care, You were a cargo - nothing more, Then I heard your cries break the silence at night, And I began to question it all. Well they say that you don’t feel pain, At first I believed it true, Then I saw your blood as the whip cut deep, Now I know I’m the same as you. I hadn’t thought like this before, And my sense of evil grew, You’re fearful of life on a faraway shore, My friends if only you knew. You are for the Americas bound, Far from your sweet homeland, To pick the cotton, tobacco and cane, And put gold in the White Man’s hand. It was sign for this ship or starve, So I’ll be paid for what I do, Though the traders’ fat in Bristol grow, I’m ashamed to be part of this crew. Oh I long for a fairer world, Without Want Poverty or Need, It’ll never be so, those in power won’t go. While money dictates the creed. |
Pro Patria ("... my friend you would not say with such high zest, To children ardent for some desperate glory The old lie: 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori'." - Wilfred Owen) You wanted to go, I couldn’t hide Sad apprehension, And late at night, I still see you, that final time, As you left here for the fight. Time heals all, Oh that it may Close all the deep wounds, But I live each, Long wretched day, With all this raw pain inside. Chorus: Did they ever once consider how, Those left could rebuild their lives? That vast army of sonless fathers, And the ranks of the widowed brides. When the rights and wrongs of every cause, Have been lost in History, Then one more wasted life is just A drop in the blood-red sea. Now, I watched you grow, into a man, Saw how you dealt with life - I loved you, It never showed, how proud I was, Or how much that I cared. Now that you’re gone, We’ll not get the chance to say all that we should, And in my head, Are all the words never said. (Chorus) (Note: 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori' is Latin for 'It is sweet and right to die for one's country.') Cry out your name So now some time to reflect, And face what I must do next, I leave you this final view. And when I'm found on the sand, I hope the family we planned, Become the ghosts haunting you. Chorus: And as the waves close I’ll cry out your name, The last word as my life slips away. So what will your memories be, Will you mourn silently? No tears because you’re too proud. Or will you burn up with grief? But enough! I must leave, The sea is calling me now. (Chorus) Ishmael Late at night he shuts the door, tries to slip away, He knows they’ll come for him next day. Oh! The song of Ishmael. In his head the dull relentless taunting always rings, Same words, their meaning never lost: “Your kind where the men of hate who killed the King of Kings,” “Nailed the Lord Jesus to a Cross”. Oh! The song of Ishmael. Short of breath the howling mob finally track him down, Scared of the one who’s not the same. Drag him to the gallows with his innocent hands bound, Let the outsider take the blame, Oh! The song of Ishmael. Solomon Browne The squealing birds, the moaning surf, Sing their own wordless lament, The eight who left their homes that night, Knew they set no precedent. “Only one man from each family, For this trip to eternity,” Is all the Coxswain said. Chorus: In the dark and brooding water, There is no burial mound, But the grey cliffs of Lamorna mark, The grave of the Solomon Browne. By the unforgiving Cornish sea, A legend is handed down, About the lifeboat from Penlee, And the men of the Solomon Browne. Into the howling, thrashing sea, They launched their puny boat, Trusting that God and ability, Will keep the craft afloat. Determined to reach the Union Star, But the airman knows their chances are, Somewhat less than remote. (Chorus) And when the long black night is done, The dawn bleakly appears, Revealing shapes in its sullen light, That crystallise the fears. The sea retreats, it’s anger spent, Leaving signs of it’s contempt, And we are left to dry the tears. (Chorus) | |
| 2008 Well Played Music Ltd | ||