1. |
There comes a time
04:08
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There comes a time
There comes a time, hen nerves they have enough
There comes a time, when this life should be mine
They scratch and tear, at every part of me
I shall resign, there comes a time
Place both these hands, in pure loneliness
Im not afraid for it's all that I have known
To be and fly, toward safe insane
I have my reign, there comes a time
There comes a time, when no more leaves can fall
We must walk forth to meet the fatal night
We must be there, we shall be there
We're walking now, there comes a time
The tears are gone, the pain is over now
Leave this here carcus to which the way he'd like
My soul is mine, not torn to shreds
I have my reign, there ones a time
Written 1985: Martin George Stephenson
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2. |
Slaughterman
04:01
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Slaughterman
I know which way you're going, but I ain't travelling your way
And I do know boots are made for walking, but to me they're tools of the trade
Now I won't have you push me around because Im heading for the top
And no would-be Ian St Johns are gonna bring me down
Im so sick of college games, packing cornflakes everyday
So open the lid and put your brains back in the jar
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
Now I don't need any lectures, about your working way and wife
Sitting cooped inside your factory, you couldn't think to save your life
Now I won't have you interfere as Im aiming for my goal
Like some hot dog seller sitting in a stand
You've a nerve to criticize while you sit inside your cage
Loke some Turkey paying homage to the slaughter man
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
So now you now which way Im going, have a little tact and understand
And you know those boots that were made for walking
Could put you on the right path!
Now I won't have you push me around because Im heading for the top
And no would-be Ian St Johns are gonna bring me down
Im so sick of college games, packing cornflakes everyday
So open the lid and put your brains back in the jar
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
Slaughterman slaughterman, cut their heads off while you can
Written by Martin George Stephenson 1983
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3. |
The Wait
03:51
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The Wait
You ask me to wait for you then happily close the door
My head comes down as numb as hell
Like a child which waits to be born
The wait is a catherine wheel of ever depending remorse
The wait is the power you have that's kept me hanging so long
I greet you with a scolding face that shields but doesn't hide what you know
I fear of your laugh within and of sharing the joke outside
The wait is the choice you have of wether I glow or dim
The wait is your safety valve with me at your every whim
The wait is a catherine wheel of ever depending remorse
The wait is the power you have that's what the darkness is for
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4. |
I can see
05:08
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I can see
I can see, my eyes are opening now
I can see that you can't, bend a broken mind
If only to feel the way the sun might feel
As he shines, over house or not, house or not
I shall cut the strings that bind me here
And get up off my behind
I shall rid this dark pool of misery
And add up the pros and cons, pros and cons
I can see clear, the moonlight man who carries me trust
My gut says, move on take up this here road
I will face, stand against the fears of change
To feel the way a child might feel
To free the shattered mind
To push ahead to higher things
And let the daylight in
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5. |
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The old church is still standing
Brethren come and brethren go
But that old church will stand while the surrounding houses fall
He caters for the business man, the homeless child any prostitute and all, within it's walls
Inside they all hold hands, and love dances freely around the room
Yes the old church he's much wiser than any mountain
And the only way to Heaven's through his door
Priests are born and priests do die
But the old church he employs them for their long and useful lives
To welcome in any vagabond, the pensioner who as a child chalked his name, upon it's wall
And the organ and voices ring with lust, and the magic within their minds is all set free
And the head that bounced three times to form a fountain
Smiles on them the calm forgiving
Yes the old church he's much wiser than any mountain
And the only way to Heaven's through his door
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6. |
Even the night
03:43
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Even the night
Even the night has turned its back
As forth he walks, winds push him back
Good looking man of melancholy stature
Whom sobs the corner of this inn
With a soaken coat from passing car
Raises his glass for merry old England
He cries this ones for misfortune and sorrow
And this one's for wife and children
Even the night has turned its back on me
Even the night has turned its back
Its New years eve, hailstones come down
The crying man him thirty one
Long gone are days of sun and warm companion
Oh lonely man your coat is torn
Your back is arched and eyes look far
Cry into your beer, think of nothing but the river
This one's for misfortune and sorrow
And this one's for wife and children
Even the night has turned its back on me
Even the night has turned its back
Written by Martin George Stephenson: 1986
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7. |
Wholly humble heart
05:20
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Wholly humble heart
Every man must have his castle, and feel a hand caress his nape
yes everybody needs a good friend, to give their secrets to
I too am no exception, I too need to be loved
And I too desire a good friend, hopefully that is you
There is not time to kiss a statue, someone who purely looks the part
One who transcends onto another
Wholly humble heart
Wholly humble heart
I share a friend who is a gay boy, she tells me he is full of love
Let Malcolm too be no exception, I wish him someone to love
For it takes awhile to re-kindle, no matter how many you manage to fool
For the first bite makes the deepest teeth marks
Those wounds take a pretty long time to heal
There is not time to kiss a statue, someone who purely looks the part
One who transcends onto another
Wholly humble heart
Wholly humble heart
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8. |
Me and Mathew
03:49
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Me & Mathew
(In the greenhouse, my grandfather and me)
Sing little bird sing sing
Sing little bird sing sing
Sing little bird I love you
Let the soul ooze from your bill
Fill up both my lungs with oxygen
Fill both my lungs with oxygen
So I can breathe in a new day
Fill both my lungs with oxygen
Share with me your honey buzzing Bee
Share me your honey buzzing Bee
Share me your honey don't you sting me
At least until another year (buzzing buzzing Bee)
Tell me your tale old man
The tale of long long ago
Of all the beauty you have witnessed
Tell me that tale before you go
Speak of your life old man
Speak of your life grandfather Mathew
Unfold your magic, sweet clasped leather palm
For there lies your Baccie old man
And pray make us merry barley wine
Pray make us merry barley wine
Pray make us merry allow us to sing
Sing, sing sing sing
In the sum me of seventy three
In the greenhouse, my grandfather and me
MS: 'What does it smell of Dave?'
Gipsy Dave: 'Smells of summer Martin!'
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9. |
Nancy
03:46
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Nancy
Nancy, I thought that you meant it
I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born
The truth is I am utterly choked, debauched and lost, and vexed as a cat
How can you act so numb, blinkered and huffed
And as cold as the mire
Nancy, I thought that you meant it
I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born
I have raised you since you were a little girl
Now you leave me lost, breathless and grey
And granted, I'll give you up
Lifeless and chopped, and cold as the mire
Nancy, how can you love, when you spit in my face
My wayfaring child
Nancy, I thought that you meant it
I have wasted my hope, Lord I wish I'd never been born
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10. |
Goodbye John
03:46
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Goodbye John
July, it was a fruitless month
Chibed molested and at the end of it a birthday
Thespian narration can only give half
And a rotten egg with spit on it the other
In an atmosphere of salt the human clock shook to the endowing of nature
The splitting up of two towns
Everything is chaotic and all that is real takes a back seat
That picture tells a lie, just as a song can hide a whim
New pressure is added, inane facts come to the fore
And the mid distorts
Goodbye John, I hope your there to meet me when Im gone
My old son the grass is black we both reap the same yawn
From the cabbage patch boy to the thud of a street car as it moves with the wan of the morning
The pedantic light shift sends waves of fear over this solitary stone
An inflection has taken place, a recital of thought
An effortless sketch of a childlike view of what appears to be true, untrue
I hear singing again
An erection starts and then the dawn once again
Goodbye John, I hope your there to meet me when Im gone
My old son the grass is black we both reap the same yawn
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11. |
I Pray
06:13
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I Pray
I belong common, that conclusion came
After two years of kicking and fifteen years lame
Strangled in a trench coat, on a hot summers day, I pray
Bring on the mongrel, the fool with the hat
Send your stones and your postcards, and your dancing twins books
I'll just keep doing what I always did, put the fish in the sack, I pray
I pray, so dark so long
I pray, so dark so long
I pray!
Him with his ego and me with these hooks
Should get together sometime and Rock this town
Joke to joke, back to back, we meet
Some hectic circus this is, hectic grave
Let difference be difference, I swear these hours are but a waste of time
And amid the hectic circus, and the hectic grave
Bring on yesterday, not today
I pray, so dark so long
I pray, so dark so long
I pray!
And the wind blows everything
That includes mood, name
Pathetic pop stars with shades
Give it blues man!
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Martin Stephenson Invergordon, UK
Born Durham 27th July 1961
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