1. |
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Tell Me Something That I Don't Know
Sunshine hits the river:
a thousand flashbulbs pop in my face.
I’m caught walking with you on my arm -
it feels good.
So hold the front back and the back page,
and all the pages in the middle.
Small news in the big town,
it feels good.
My friends tell me not to let you go,
I say: ‘ha! Tell me something that I don’t know.’
Every time I look in those big green eyes,
I feel my leaky little boat capsize.
So hold tight to your paddle,
as we go rolling through town -
and sing under the bridges,
it feels good.
My friends tell me not to let you go,
I say: ‘ha! Tell me something that I don’t know.’
Every time I look in those big green eyes,
it gives my wheezy little heart a surprise.
All the mistakes that you make
come undone in the water.
They ride down to the ocean.
It feels good.
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2. |
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St. Paul’s 8th Floor Farewell Blues
The last time I saw Saint Paul,
he was living in a block of flats.
You could see the world for miles around.
He said, ‘there’s nothing worth the looking at.’
I thought, ‘he’s gone...
so long, so long. Come back now.’
The last time I saw Saint Paul,
he was refusing everybody’s calls.
He had a sign that said ‘Closing Down’
blu-tacked up on the kitchen wall.
He said, ‘I found it,
with demolition all around it.
That’s why I like it’.
My mother said ‘you should stay clear
of that damaged boy.
He’s been reducing you to tears for years and years.’
The last time I saw Saint Paul,
he was living on jam and bread.
He said, ‘I feel like just letting go.’
Then I reminded him of what we’d said.
He said, ‘I know...
but change the subject, or go.’
That’s how we left it.
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3. |
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The Only Only Child in the World
When real life tells you the score,
and the angels of destruction
come knocking on your door
and you lay down thinking you can choose
and when you wake up you’re
surrounded by the blues.
And you build your fortress walls high and strong,
but you can only hold them off for so long.
And you talk like you’re the only
only child in the world.
As a kid you made a world of your own.
You killed the long winter afternoons all alone.
With a box of plastic soldiers on the shelf,
you fought the Second World War all by yourself.
But now you’re older, and surrendering to doubt -
as the ammunition starts to run out.
You throw your hands up, like the only
only child in the world.
But did they wrap you with love?
(yes they did)
Warm blankets of love?
(every night and day)
Did they hold you tight in their arms,
all the way back home?
And nothing weighs you down like what you feel -
but you have to put your shoulder to the wheel,
and keep moving, like the only
only child in the world.
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4. |
Things Fall Apart
04:40
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Things Fall Apart
I been to New York City,
I walked the boots right off my feet.
I saw Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes
play on 42nd street.
In a car on the New Jersey Turnpike,
I saw America after dark.
I’ve been up and down the road to hell,
trying to find a place to park
I been to Smithfield Market
but that just gave me the blues.
All those old LPs from your teenage years,
and the toys nobody used
I saw a mama look down at her little boy,
and the boy regard his mother.
There’s nothing worse than two generations
disappointed in each other.
Things fall apart, and you try to hold it all together.
You can throw your arms around it sometimes,
but nothing lasts forever.
I got locked in a dead hotel,
I was a ghost on the second floor.
I kicked my way out the fire escape,
I stole the key to a hundred doors.
I got chased by the flood.
I took a dirt road home,
I went looking for higher ground
in Fermanagh and South Tyrone.
Things fall apart, and you try to hold it all together.
You can throw your arms around it sometimes,
but nothing lasts forever.
Don’t read your old love letters,
you’ll feel a thousand years old.
Don’t visualize your broken heart being
left out in the cold:
That was a time of superstition,
people checked under their cars.
They stopped going out to dances,
and they avoided certain bars.
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5. |
Polaroids and Postcards
04:07
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Polaroids & Postcards
We were both named for Catholic saints,
but it never does us any good.
We say our prayers each day and we walk out
into the deep, dark woods.
We’re kids of a restless generation,
who prayed that life could be better.
They packed their bags and caught the boats, and got kind of
lost out in the weather.
CHORUS:
And it’s happy and sad,
all these Polaroids and postcards.
Good and bad, all the news they send back home.
And you wonder how these hearts can go the distance,
even though we’ve been down this road many times.
Australia 1962:
Our uncle and his brand new wife.
Behind them the land goes on for miles,
without another sign of life.
From Vancouver, New York and Boston;
Philadelphia, New South Wales:
Black and whites of birthday parties,
and smiling little nephews come Air Mail.
CHORUS
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6. |
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Most People are a Pain in the Ass
I need to set some boundaries.
They keep knocking on my door,
and tucking in the tail of my shirt.
And I negotiate my personal space:
They keep walking through walls and
they bug me when I’m trying to work.
Well, the ones that you love and
who love you, you got to keep them around.
But just about everybody else can get lost,
that’s what I’ve found...
Most people are a pain in the ass.
If life was a party then you wish you could leave them at home.
They keep tugging on your sleeve.
Even when they’re dead, they won’t leave you alone.
And we’ve got experts in every subject.
Cooking pasta, and how to save a fortune
on the cost of your heating.
And they boast about the price of their houses,
what they said to the boss and what
they’re going to bring up at the meeting.
Well I try to be cool at the party
while they waste my precious time.
But every time they open their mouths,
I just want to drink a lot more wine.
Most people are a pain in the ass.
If life was a movie, you’d kill them in the opening scene.
They keep tugging at your sleeve,
you try to change the channel
but their face keeps coming up on every screen.
Well I try to be patient and I try to be kind.
But with all the ears in the world tonight,
how come you keep bending mine?
Most people are a pain in the ass.
If life was a journey you’d slash their tyres in the driveway.
They keep tugging on your sleeve,
even when you sleep they won’t leave you alone.
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7. |
The Road to Fivemiletown
04:14
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The Road to Fivemiletown
She was the youngest of four daughters,
and she married way too fast,
in the days when vows were iron -
and you had to make them last.
But her father was a bruiser,
and he bruised them twice a week.
She couldn’t live the life her mother had,
and turn the other cheek.
So when she turned sixteen, she started counting off the days
- til she could find herself a husband, and finally get away.
He was a farmer with big farmer’s hands,
and she met him at a dance.
She set her sights upon him,
and he never stood a chance.
She thought the price of being choosy
was to live upon the shelf,
and she thought he’d do the job
as well as anybody else.
And when they both stood at the altar, he said he’d never let her down -
he had a farm and forty acres, either side of the road to Fivemiletown.
That first year the river burst its banks,
and half the countryside was drowned.
all the food that he had planted
lay and rotted in the ground.
He’d come home at night exhausted,
and lie dead between the sheets,
and she’d lie all night and listen to
the roaring of the beasts,
and it was dark - as dark as being lost and never found.
You wouldn’t even know your eyes were closed or open on the road to Fivemiletown.
Once upon a time she thought the world
would be hers to wrap her arms around.
Now she makes the bed, and lies back down.
She drew a disappearing heart, when there was no-one else around,
on a steamed-up kitchen window - looking out on the road to Fivemiletown.
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8. |
Bed and Breakfast
03:53
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Bed & Breakfast
Headlights on the road, and the moon up above:
I drive between the lights, to be with the one I love.
And if I was a DJ, with my own late show,
I would dedicate to you every love song I know.
CHORUS:
Cause I love you hot and cold,
I love you thick and thin.
I love you bed and breakfast,
going out and staying in.
There’s a checkpoint up ahead – and I tell them with a smile,
if they take away my wheels I’d walk home the sixty miles.
CHORUS
First thing in the morning, and last thing at night
I need to hear my baby’s voice to know it’s going to be all right.
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9. |
Broken in Advance
03:01
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Broken in Advance
In the deepest, darkest part of the night,
you lie awake and you worry about things that you can’t put right.
And if sleep is a river of dreams,
you’re headed back upstream,
where the fish come and look at your toes
and they take a bite.
There are joyriders watching you from the dark.
They know your house and your car
and the place that you always park.
They missed the boom but they got the crash,
and they’d love to redistribute your cash -
and you hold your keys so tight
that they leave a mark.
Maybe they were born to it -
maybe they never stood a chance.
Their hearts were broken in advance.
It seems so much harder than it did way back at the start.
And you worry ’bout the toll that it takes on your wounded heart.
You just hope it wins back what it loses,
between the teethmarks and the bruises
And all the big ideas that used to seem so smart.
Everybody’s on the make but me, I must have
missed my lucky chance.
My heart was broken in advance.
Well you wake in the middle of the night with your pulse rate thumping:
This isn’t the dream about falling, this is the one about jumping.
You’re lying there wide awake,
and your heart’s just about to break -
when the sun comes up, and you remember to be glad for something.
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10. |
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The Heart Says: ‘You Never Know Me’
Trusting in your high wire shoes from grace to grace.
Practising your broken smile from face to face.
Carrying your rotten luck from place to place.
Oh, in the dead of night your heart will tell you:
‘You never know, you never know, you never know me’.
Love will make you leave your home, and change your name;
Make you bend or break the rules of every game.
The people that you leave will never be the same.
Oh, in the dead of night your heart will tell you:
‘You never know, you never know, you never know me’.
Desire is the flame that melts you together
And she says you’re the one, but your heart knows you better.
‘You never know, you never know, you never know me’.
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11. |
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All the Empty Pockets of Ireland
I had a dream that the people came back
to the dancehalls,
and they waltzed and they jived
beneath the mirror balls.
And with the music in their heads,
they went back home to their beds
and they woke up hopeful.
In this dancehall, all the millionaires
stood regretting.
And they leaned against the walls
and started sweating.
And all the sweetest girls in town
consistently turned their advances down,
and they went home lonely.
Baby I’m going to hit the road,
but I won’t be long.
I’ll be home before you even know I’m gone.
And I’ll wash my face and smile
and I’ll sing my song
to all the empty pockets of Ireland.
In this dream I’m ten years old,
and I’m up way too late.
And as my mother and my father dance,
they start to levitate.
And as the people stop and stare,
they catch each other in mid-air
and I don’t want to wake up.
Baby I’m going to hit the road,
but I won’t be long.
I’ll be home before you even know I’m gone.
And I’ll wash my face and smile
and I’ll sing my song
to all the empty pockets of Ireland.
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Anthony Toner Belfast, UK
An independent singer songwriter and guitarist, based in Belfast.
Anthony Toner recommends:
Superb songs - always arresting and haunting work, recent album 'Plz stay bb' is his best work yet - and there's more to come.
go to album
A gifted writer, player and producer, Matt's 'Lessons of War' is a fascinating collection of collaborations - but he has a great back catalogue, too - and new songs due soon...
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