1. |
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The Protection of the King
In the 70s, in Harpur’s Hill, when I was still quite small,
this big poster of Elvis Presley went up on my parents’ bedroom wall.
He was large as life, in a turquoise jumpsuit and Aviator shades
- a Las Vegas Tutankhamun, before the shine began to fade.
He walked towards the camera like he had some place to go,
You’d swear he was walking past their chest of drawers on his way to do a show.
I hadn’t been in many grown-up bedrooms, but I sensed that on the wall
there should have been… wedding groups and landscapes
- not the King of Rock & Roll.
I’ve no idea how it got there, how that decision had been made.
Maybe a gift from some family member, and so it had to be displayed.
My mum and dad were both big Elvis fans, although she much more than he –
he preferred the edges rougher: like Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee.
These days I wonder how he must have felt as each morning came around,
to wake up there in Harpur’s Hill - and find Elvis looking down.
Above us were the heavens, the moon and stars and everything,
and we slept all night like babies,
under the protection of the King,
...the protection of the King.
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2. |
Dignity Thief
03:14
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Dignity Thief
Old man, this disease is a dignity thief.
It strips old trees naked, leaf by leaf.
Of course - of course I’m afraid.
You were up to your knees at the water’s edge.
And then you went down the river, til you came to the bridge.
Of course - of course I’m afraid.
If words are a necklace of beautiful beads,
now you can’t lay your hand on the one that you need.
Of course - of course I’m afraid.
Old man, this disease is a dignity thief.
It strips old trees naked, leaf by leaf.
Of course I’m afraid that it’s coming for me,
of course I’m afraid, of course I’m afraid.
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3. |
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The One I Would Have Died For
Love is a religion - it helps if you believe.
And love’s a beggar, tugging at your sleeve.
It’s the hand that rocks the cradle, it’s a blanket on your bed -
it shines down on the living and the dead.
In every love story, there’s always some new thing
that has to be said.
Love is a metaphor, for nothing but itself.
The Book of Love just jumps right off the shelf.
And love’s a kind of voodoo for all your aches and pains,
when we’re gone, they say it’s all that remains.
We should teach it to our children,
the same way that we teach them their names.
CHORUS:
You’re the one I would have died for,
you’re the one I would have waited all my life for.
You’re the one I would have cried for,
prayed up all night into the darkness for.
Love is the real thing, in a world full of fakes -
the right move after all your mistakes.
You can sink it to the bottom of the ocean floor,
but it always finds its way back to shore.
I’d seen through all of its disguises,
by the time it stopped in front of my door.
CHORUS
I’d seen through all of its disguises,
by the time it stopped in front of my door.
CHORUS
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4. |
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|
Should Have Done It Years Ago
I left another song at your front door.
It’s the kind of thing I’m sure you’ve heard before –
sadly, songs aren’t worth that much anymore.
They’re ubiquitous as garden birds,
strung out on the clothes line like minor thirds.
All complicated chords and empty words.
I grew up anxious on behalf of everyone –
and my mother told me, ‘listen my son…
‘Stop worrying, and try to have some fun.’
And it’s the same old lesson, I know –
I should have done it years ago.
I went down to the party all dressed in black,
with my half price shirt all hanging out at the back.
And I told some truth, and I got truth back.
I drew a picture of my father on his dying day.
There was nothing left between us that we had to say.
And I tore it from my notebook, and I threw it away.
And it’s the same old lesson, anyhow –
I should have drawn that picture long before now.
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5. |
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Billy and the Vast Majority
Billy hands out gospel tracts
to the people in the city.
The vast majority pass him by,
and they rarely catch his eye
- or they regard him with a weary kind of pity.
Of all the jobs he does for Jesus,
it’s the one he hates the most.
He hardly seems to make a dent,
for all the hours that he’s spent,
cold and pale as a harmless little ghost.
Some folks are downright nasty,
one guy spat down at his feet.
And all the young ones stand and laugh,
and tear the Word of God in half
- Billy always tries to turn the other cheek.
Everybody seems more jaded
then they ever did before.
They tell themselves they’re not alone,
staring down into their phone.
There is no wilderness to cry in anymore.
There is no wilderness to cry in anymore.
There is no wilderness to cry in anymore.
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6. |
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|
The Penguin Book of American Verse
The Penguin Book of American Verse
has landscapes vast and wide.
The buildings are tall, and the shadows are long,
and there’s a million places to hide.
The Penguin Book of American Verse
has done a thing or two.
It gave us The Bomb and the electric guitar,
and then showed us what they could do.
The Penguin Book of American Verse
is in love with the automobile.
But the distance to home might just break your heart
before you even take the wheel.
Bless me, Walt Whitman, for I have sinned:
I must have misplaced my devotion.
I keep forgetting that the country’s
still so young and wild.
The Penguin Book of American Verse
somehow fails to explain
how it held our hopes in its capable hands,
but still let it go down the drain.
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7. |
Whoever Wins in Ohio
02:47
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|
Whoever Wins in Ohio
Whoever wins in Ohio,
someone else will have to count the cost.
Every win contains – within it –
some other man’s loss.
What can you do for your country?
- Tear down whatever came before,
teach your children that whatever they own,
they have to learn to want more.
We’ll be staying up all night,
waiting for that early light to show:
Where do you go from here?
How can you bring it together,
now that the wheel has come to rest at last?
Now on every pillow,
the dream has turned to broken glass.
Go out and talk to your people.
The long roads of the great Midwest.
When you leave, the deafness
falls over all the rest.
We’ll be staying up all night,
waiting for that early light to show:
Where do you go from here?
Where do you go from here?
Oh say, can you see-
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8. |
Going Home Blues
03:06
|
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|
Going Home Blues
Some people will keep you up all night,
thinking of something to say.
It can bleed your heart a deathly white
in the cold light of day.
Daybreak was blue, and the birds were singing slow,
and I knew the time had come to let the whole thing go.
Got up that morning, and put on my going home shoes,
and I walked out with the Going Home Blues.
You can fool some of the people some of the time,
with the lights way down low.
Blow out the candles, and you lift the blinds,
there’s nothing but daylight and smoke.
I went out the front, and I sat down on the wall,
and I tried and tried and tried to make sense of it all.
I went back inside and put on my going home shoes,
and I walked out with the Going Home Blues.
You can tell when it’s time to draw the line,
and you’ll know exactly what to do.
I’ve never been one to hold a grudge,
but I’ll make an exception just for you.
You might have made me look small in front of these dear friends,
yeah, that happened once, but it won’t happen again.
Got up this morning and put on my going home shoes,
and I walked out, with the Going Home Blues,
and I didn’t look back:
I just walked out with the Going Home Blues.
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9. |
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|
The Man who Died at a Funeral
I once knew a man who died at a funeral.
They were taking out the coffin,
and everyone stood up, but he stayed down.
His old weather-beaten soul had just left town.
Well the undertaker didn’t know just where to look.
There was this sense of opportunity,
but it wasn’t his place to say.
And he had his hands full right then, anyway.
They went through his pockets and they found a key.
And someone said, we should go to his house,
and start to look for names
of brothers and sons and old flames.
They found a number for a daughter, who lived in Germany.
They hadn’t spoken for twenty years,
because of some old family row.
And there was nothing to be done about that now.
She said ‘I don’t give a damn what you decide to do.
He can go to Hell with his money, and I’ll bet
you won’t find my name on the will.
But you can put him in the graveyard, and send me the bill.’
Life is not a roll of the dice:
if you can only cut once,
be sure to measure twice.
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10. |
Rattle My Cage
04:27
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|
Rattle My Cage
Man I wished you’d seen me, in my navy pinstripe suit;
I looked like a million dollars, like a gun about to shoot.
I polished up my brown shoes, and I toughened up my feet,
and you could hear me hit the pavement,
all the way from Kingsgate Street.
I was ready to engage - man, I want to rattle my cage.
This was in the 1980s, ’85 or ’86 -
at the height of Margaret Thatcher, and that whole bag of tricks.
I looked just like a gangster, or some crooked MP.
I could have been selling plastic windows, or cars or TVs.
I was a needle in a gauge - man, I want to rattle my cage.
The more I saw my own reflection, the more I realised
that a pinstripe suit is just a flimsy disguise.
Only eighty years ago, my people were still digging ditches.
Now I’m walking round in pinstripes, like all the other sons of bitches,
acting someone else’s age - man, I want to rattle my cage.
So my heart looked at my sleeve, and it saw the disparity.
And in time the suit got old, and I sent it off to charity.
But man, I wish you’d seen me, when that suit was at its best,
before the elbows went east and the knees went west.
I was all the rage - man, I want to rattle my cage.
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11. |
Let Me Know
02:57
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|
Let Me Know
Let me know when you're going downtown
- I'll go down too, and I'll meet you somewhere.
Let me know when you're going downtown
- I'll go down too, and I'll meet you somewhere.
I've been awful lonely.
Let me know when the music's playing
- I'll play along with any old song.
Let me know when the music's playing
- I'll play along with any old song.
It's been awful lonely.
Let me know when the lights are shining:
let it shine on you, and shine on me too.
Let me know when the lights are shining:
let it shine on you, and shine on me too.
Have you been lonely?
Let me know, let me know.
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12. |
The Book of Absolution
03:46
|
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|
The Book of Absolution
What big eyes you’ve got
- all the better to see through me.
What big lies you caught,
you’ve got every right to sue me,
but give me just a minute -
I don’t know myself,
when I’m having so much sport.
I should throw myself
on the mercy of the court –
let me explain…
In the Book of Absolution,
I’ve been trying hard to find my name.
Tell me what law I’ve broken,
and I will atone.
We were only joking,
how could we have known,
we’d end up here?
I know the flames will be flaming,
when it’s my turn,
but think of the names I’ll be naming,
when the jury brings the word,
so stay on my good side.
In the Book of Absolution,
I’ve been trying hard to find my name…
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13. |
New Years Eve 2020
02:19
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|
New Years Eve 2020
The champagne we never opened
on New Year’s Eve…
we thought we were going to celebrate,
but we only felt relief.
That empty midnight feeling,
when your footsteps disconnect:
Stepping off the end of one year,
and groping for the next.
I’ll take down the decorations
and the Christmas Tree,
while that old debt collector, January
looks in the window at me.
So give me bells and confetti
and bagpipes and cheers,
and let me float here a little longer,
in the space between the years.
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14. |
I Will Not Weep
03:26
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|
I Will Not Weep
Everything suspended has to fall.
Every roof and every wall.
The nest you built in this old tree,
and the tree itself, eventually.
All the changes you had planned –
they go like footprints in the sand.
The alibi you thought was strong,
and the lie you told yourself for so long.
But I will not, I will not weep;
if I start now, I’ll never stop.
The ones you lost along the way
show up in your dreams and say:
‘Gravity was just too strong,
we’re just glad we got to run for so long’.
And I will not, I will not weep.
If I start now, I’ll never stop.
It’s a Lake Ontario of tears
I’ve been holding back for all these years,
and I will not, I will not weep,
if I start now, I’ll never stop.
No I will not, I will not weep,
if I start now, I’ll never stop.
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15. |
Decades
03:39
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|
Decades
To be born in the 60s
they had the Summer of Love,
but not over here.
I was too young to remember,
but they tell me it was a swinging affair.
I rode my bike through the 70s,
when they were fighting over oil,
and they were hijacking planes.
And we had great big hatred -
and terror groups with scary little names.
My mother took my hand and she was
holding on, holding on, holding on.
Everybody was holding on, holding on…
To come of age in the 80s,
when the return on your investment
turned out to be less than you need.
People were buying up all the houses,
the cul de sacs were paved with greed -
they said they’d send a cheque - and you were
holding on, holding on, holding on…
Everybody was holding on, holding on…
Now the decades slide by me
- I don’t even give them names anymore.
I put bread upon the table,
and I sing this song for the wolf at my door.
He’s just like me, he’s only
holding on, holding on, holding on…
Everybody’s just holding on, holding on.
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16. |
Wheelchair, 2014
02:23
|
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|
Wheelchair, 2014
I remember the wheelchair weight of my mother,
as I pushed her up the hill at Bishop's Gate.
It was our last big day out together,
before the shadows closed over, and it got too late.
She'd always loved the lake and gardens -
we'd been coming here since I was just a child.
The ocean and the temple and the railway,
the collision of the tamed and the wild.
When the sun lights up the leaves,
those stained glass colours feel like hope.
And as we headed back to the car,
I held back hard against the downward slope.
The downward slope.
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17. |
The Same Thing For You
03:08
|
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|
The Same Thing for You
When a soul sets out on its journey to the west,
you say farewell, and hope for safe returns, I guess:
All braced for the worst and praying for the best.
It’s a conversation stripped of all its grace -
it takes your connection to its thinnest place.
It’s all down the line, instead of face to face.
The sparrow doesn’t hold on to the branch exclusively
- it holds on to the earth, down through the roots of the tree.
Sometimes you only have to feel it, too.
Send out your love, and hope it makes it through.
Act and live as if they’d do the same thing for you.
Put your faith in miracles, if it gets you through the night.
Bet your money on science - and hope you played it right.
Or send your love across the miles with no logic,
if it just feels right.
The sparrow doesn’t hold on to the branch exclusively
- it holds on to the earth, down through the roots of the tree.
Sometimes you only have to feel it, too.
Send out your love, and hope it makes it through.
Act and live as if they’d do the same thing for you.
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18. |
Padlocks
01:44
|
|||
|
The Same Thing for You
When a soul sets out on its journey to the west,
you say farewell, and hope for safe returns, I guess:
All braced for the worst and praying for the best.
It’s a conversation stripped of all its grace -
it takes your connection to its thinnest place.
It’s all down the line, instead of face to face.
The sparrow doesn’t hold on to the branch exclusively
- it holds on to the earth, down through the roots of the tree.
Sometimes you only have to feel it, too.
Send out your love, and hope it makes it through.
Act and live as if they’d do the same thing for you.
Put your faith in miracles, if it gets you through the night.
Bet your money on science - and hope you played it right.
Or send your love across the miles with no logic,
if it just feels right.
The sparrow doesn’t hold on to the branch exclusively
- it holds on to the earth, down through the roots of the tree.
Sometimes you only have to feel it, too.
Send out your love, and hope it makes it through.
Act and live as if they’d do the same thing for you.
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19. |
Williambutleryeats
02:30
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|
Williambutleryeats
I fell in love with a girl,
it was the Crush of the Century.
It lasted for a year and a half,
she barely even noticed me.
I kept praying good things would come
to He Who Waits…
Her father looked just like Williambutleryeats.
I was a boy with a book,
and a sick note from my mother.
When I should have been chasing a ball,
I was reading some thing or other.
I was dreaming of her,
when I should have been with my mates -
memorising lines from Williambutleryeats.
When she is old and grey, I will still know her number.
Keep it til my dying day, and always kind of wonder…
I had to leave the world of dreams,
it was a house made of paper.
You think you’ll never turn that page,
but you forget sooner or later.
But now every time I read it,
my heart’s still lifting weights.
So I cast a cold eye on Williambutleryeats.
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20. |
Royal Blue Washable Ink
02:47
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|
Royal Blue Washable Ink
Take a walk along Church Street,
from the Town Hall to the lights -
and ask the spirits of your lost ones
to watch over you at night.
And anyone who ever squeezed your heart,
from Captain Street to Chapel Square:
If you rang on all the doorbells,
would they even still be there?
And the ghosts who slip round corners
seem to thin out in the rain.
(all the records and the books
that you loaned them, that were never seen again)
Your Headmaster tried to warn you:
‘be careful how you think…’
You wrote it on the back of your hand,
in royal blue washable ink.
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21. |
Last of the Old Ones
01:21
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22. |
Your Mother
02:19
|
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|
Your Mother
Your mother always knows what’s wrong
- she sees the burden, when it lies on you.
She must have seen it all along.
Your mother reads you like a book –
she taught your fingers how to make the words.
(think of the patience that it took)
I used to think it was a magic spell:
When I was in trouble, she could always tell.
Now I know all mothers have the gift as well.
Your mother hates to let you go.
She wants to hold on to the end of the line.
She made the promise years ago.
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23. |
You and Raymond
02:48
|
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|
You and Raymond
The waitress in this café has an old tattoo:
24-point letters in a blue jean blue.
It says ‘Raymond’.
Not the best piece of skin art in the whole wide world -
but it must have once been fancy, with the ‘R’ all curled.
‘R’ for ‘Raymond’.
(I hope you love him,
and he still loves you, too.
When he opens his eyes in the morning,
the first thing he thinks about is you)
It’s such a livid declaration, it’s a heart on a sleeve.
It’s ink and skin and blood, it’s a thing you can believe:
You and Raymond.
(I hope he loves you,
and you still love him, too.
When he opens his eyes in the morning,
the first thing he thinks about is you.)
It makes me wonder how that love life feels:
me, with my empty arms and my worn-down heels.
You and Raymond.
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24. |
Parade
02:43
|
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|
Parade
Who doesn’t love a parade?
One end of town to the other, through the light and the shade,
filled with all of your victories - and every mistake you ever made.
And all your ancestors wearing their Sunday coats,
all the ones that you lost that you loved the most -
stretching out for miles to the rear, like an army of ghosts.
Where were we going?
How could we know then?
Maybe you never want to know…
It starts off in your schooldays -
all of the crushes and attentions you should have paid,
all your little vendettas, before you put away your childish ways.
It marches up to the present day,
bewildered and wondering how much you’re gonna have to pay,
for all the drummers and the banners and security along the way.
Where were we going?
How could we know then?
Maybe you never want to know.
And in between the marching bands,
you and me at the traffic lights, hand in hand,
with all the fast food riders and the Amazon delivery vans.
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25. |
Backwards on the Train
02:52
|
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|
Backwards on the Train
I’m rolling backwards on the train
The world comes in over my shoulder.
I reverse into my future,
But somehow that just makes me feel older.
All the rivers we cross and every town,
feel like the movie of my life, the wrong way round.
I’m rolling backwards on the train -
you never know what’s coming down the line.
Maybe that’s just for the best,
whatever it is, you’re already out of time.
All the mistakes you made way back then –
you get the chance to make them all again.
All the people in the stations,
they can’t wait for time to pass.
They just want to be in motion -
whatever’s gonna happen, make it fast, make it fast.
I’m rolling backwards on the train,
my destination’s already behind me.
The sky keeps getting darker
like a storm is up there, looking round to find me.
It comes in with gale force winds,
when it goes it leaves a multitude of sins.
|
||||
26. |
Paperbacks and Ashtrays
04:18
|
|||
|
Paperbacks and Ashtrays
Some men define themselves by the work they do all day.
My Dad defined himself by what he did
when they handed him his pay.
He left school the moment that he could, and it never did him any harm –
he wrote everything in capitals, like he was filling in a form.
There was a scruffy pile of paperbacks on the floor beside his bed.
And because I wanted to connect, I tried to read what he had read.
These books came in from his friends at work, and they went back out again,
and I started dipping in when I was only nine or ten.
CHORUS:
Paperbacks and ashtrays, Adidas and Wrangler.
Reading ‘The Day of the Jackal’
and ‘The Boston Strangler’.
I was far too young to be reading about drugs and serial killers –
Vietnam memoirs and Cold War thrillers.
As for my mother, she steered the family like a captain runs a ship
- and she loved me seven days a week but she never took no lip.
CHORUS
In the forest of my memory, some trees grow straight and tall
- and I can’t explain why others never put down roots at all.
The dartboard in the spare room, and the breath of old beer cans;
the dainty shape our fingers made when the darts were in our hands.
CHORUS
|
||||
27. |
Row Me Home
03:29
|
|||
|
Row me Home
Take me out on the water, it’s been a long day.
Take me out on the water, it’s been a long, long day.
If I sleep in your boat, woe is me…
would you row me home?
The water gets so dark when the sun goes down.
The water’s dark as blood when the sun goes down.
And if I sleep in your boat, woe is me…
would you row me home?
They say all water is connected, but I don’t know if that’s true.
They say all water is connected, but I don’t know if that’s true.
But if I sleep in your boat, woe is me…
would you row me home?
|
||||
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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