01-04-2004, 19:58
Muscled, black, wiith steel-green eyes
Swishing through the rye grass
With thoughts of mouse and apple pie
Tail balancing at half-mast
And the mouse police never sleeps
Lying in the cherry tree
Savage bed foot-warmer
Of purest feline ancestry
Look out, little furry folk
He's the all-night working cat
Eats but one in every ten
Leaves the others on the mat
And the mouse police never sleeps
Waiting by the cellar door
Windowbox town crier
Birth and death registrar
With claws that rake a furrow red
Licensed to mutilate
From warm milk on a lazy day
To dawn patrol and hungry hate
No, the mouse police never sleeps
Climbing on the ivy
Windy rooftop weathercock
Warm-blooded night on a cold tile
I'll make love to you
In all dark places
Under black mountains
In open spaces
By deep brown rivers
That slither darkly
Through far marshes
Where the blue hare races
Come with me to the Winged Isle
Northern father's western child
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marshes of acres wild
I'll make love to you
In the narrow side streets
With shuttered windows
And crumbling chimneys
Come with me to the weary town
Discos silent under tiles
That slide from rooftops, scatter softly
On concrete marshes of acres wild
By red bricks pointed
With cement fingers
Flaking deeply
From sagging shoulders
Come with me to the Winged Isle
Northern father's western child
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marshes of acres wild
Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears
Rehearse your loudest cry
There's folk out there who would do you harm
So I'll sing you no lullaby
There's a lock on the window, there's a chain on the door
And the big dog in the hall
But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night
To snatch you if you fall
So come out fighting with your rattle in hand
Thrust and parry light
A match to catch the devil's eye
Bring a cross of fire to the fight
And let no sleep bring false relief
From the tension of the fray
Come wake the dead with the scream of life
Do battle with ghosts at play
And gather your toys at the call to arms
And swing your big bear down
Upon our necks when we come to set
You sleeping safe and sound
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears
Rehearse your loudest cry
There's folk out there who will do you harm
So I'll sing you no lullaby
There's a lock on the window, there's a chain on the door
And the big dog in the all
But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night
To snatch you if you fall
So come out fighting with your rattle in hand
Thrust and parry light
A match to catch the devil's eye
Bring a cross of fire to the fight
And let no sleep bring false relief
From the tension of the fray
Come wake the dead with the scream of life
Do battle with ghosts at play
Gather your toys at the call to arms
Swing your big bear down
Upon our necks when we come to set you
Sleeping safe and sound
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't flly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
Oh the leaded window
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
Oh, suicidal came
And the new breeze chattered
In its Maybud tenderness
Sending water lilies sailing
As she turned to get undressed
And the long night awakened
And we soared on powdered wings
Circling our tomorrows
In the whirring of the spring
Chasing, shadows slipping
In the magic lantern slide
Creatures of the candle
On a night light ride
Dipping and weaving
Flutter through the golden eagle's eye
In our haystack madness
Buttefly-stroking on a spring tide high
Oh, on a spring tide high
Life's too long (as the lemming said)
As the candle burned and the moths were wed
And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher
Before the candle's dead
Oh, the leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
Oh, suicidal came
To join in the worship
Of the light that never dies
In the moment's reflection
Of two moths spinning in her eyes
Spine-tingling railway sleepers
Sleepy houses lying four-square and firm
Orange beams divide the darkness
Rumbling fit to turn the making worm
Sliding through Victorian tunnels
Where green moss oozes from the pores
Dull echoes from the wet embankments
Battlefield allotments, fresh open sores
In late night commuter madness
Double-locked black briefcase on the floor
Like a faithful dog with master
Sleeping in the draught beside the carriage door
To each journeyman his own homecoming
Cold supper nearing with each station stop
Frosty flakes on empty platforms
Fireside slippers waiting-flip, flop
Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantastic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerrard's Cross
And hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
As the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost
On the late commuter special
Carriage lights that flicker, fade, and die
Howling into hollow blackness
Dusky diesel shudders in full cry
Down redundant morning papers
Abandon crosswords with a cough
Stationmaster in his wisdom
Told the guard to turn the heating off
Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantastic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerrard's cross
And hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
As the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost
I chase your every footstep
And I follow every whim
When you call a tune, I'm ready
To strike up the battle hymn
My lady of the meadows
My comber of the beach
You've thrown the stick for your dog's trick
But it's floating out of reach
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
As the robin craves the summer
To hide his smock of red
I need the pillow of your hair
In which to hide my head
I'm simple in my sadness
Resourceful in remorse
And I'm down straining at the lead
Holding on a windward course
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
Strip me from the bundle
Of balloons at every fair
Colorful and carefree
Designed to make you stare
But I'm lost and I'm losing
The thread that holds me down
And I'm up hot and rising
In the lights of every town
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder
Twitch your whiskers, feel
That you're really real
And now the teatime, another day older
One warm breath from your tiny hands
You wish you were a man
Who every day can turn another page
Behind your glass, you sit and look
At my ever-open book
One brown mouse sitting in a cage
Do you wonder if I really care for you?
Am I just the company you keep?
Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill?
Who hides his head, pretending to sleep?
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulders
Twitch your whiskers, feel
That you're really real
Another teatime, another day older
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
And every day we'll turn another page
Behind your glass, we'll sit and look
At our ever-open book
One brown moouse, sitting in a cage
One brown mouse, sitting in a cage
One brown mouse, sitting in a cage
Iron-clad feather feet pounding the dust
An October's day, towards evening
Sweat-embossed veins standing proud to the plow
Salt on a deep chest seasoning
Last of the line at an honest day's toil
Turning the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone
Flies at the nostrils plunder
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale
The Percheron vie
With the Shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
To bed on a warm straw coating
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seed
To keep the old line going
And we'll stand here abreast at the back of the woods
Behind the young trees growing
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth
Your eighteen hands at the shoulder
And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to draw colder
They'll beg for your strength, your gentle power
Your noble grace and your bearing
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the deep plow, sharing
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill
Up into the cold wind facing
In stiff battle harness chained to the wood
Against the low sun raising
Bring me a wheel of oaken woods
A rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather
Bring a song for the evening
Clean brass to flash the dawn
Across these acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark townsfolk lie sleeping
The heavy horses thunder by
To wake the dying city
With the living horseman's cries
At once the old hands quicken
Bring pick and wisp and curry comb
Thrill to the sound of all
The heavy horses coming home
Iron-clad feather feet pounding the dust
An October's day, towards evening
Sweat-embossed veins standing proud to the plow
Salt on the deep chest seasoning
Bring me a wheel of oaken woods
A rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Good morning, weathercock
How'd you fare last night?
Did the cold wind bite you?
Did you face up to the fright?
When the leaves spin from October
And whip around your tail
Did you shake from the blast?
Did you shiver through the gale?
Give us direction
The best of goodwill
Put us in touch with fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you
Do you simply reflect changes
In the patterns of the sky?
Or is it true to say the weather heeds
The twinkle in your eye?
Do you fight the rush of winter?
Do you hold snowflakes at bay?
Do you fight the dawn sun from the fields
And help it on its way?
Good morning, weathercock
Make this day bright
Put us in touch with your fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Point the way to better days we can share with you
Good morning, weathercock
Make this day bright
Put us in touch with your fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Point the way to better days we can share with you
Swishing through the rye grass
With thoughts of mouse and apple pie
Tail balancing at half-mast
And the mouse police never sleeps
Lying in the cherry tree
Savage bed foot-warmer
Of purest feline ancestry
Look out, little furry folk
He's the all-night working cat
Eats but one in every ten
Leaves the others on the mat
And the mouse police never sleeps
Waiting by the cellar door
Windowbox town crier
Birth and death registrar
With claws that rake a furrow red
Licensed to mutilate
From warm milk on a lazy day
To dawn patrol and hungry hate
No, the mouse police never sleeps
Climbing on the ivy
Windy rooftop weathercock
Warm-blooded night on a cold tile
I'll make love to you
In all dark places
Under black mountains
In open spaces
By deep brown rivers
That slither darkly
Through far marshes
Where the blue hare races
Come with me to the Winged Isle
Northern father's western child
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marshes of acres wild
I'll make love to you
In the narrow side streets
With shuttered windows
And crumbling chimneys
Come with me to the weary town
Discos silent under tiles
That slide from rooftops, scatter softly
On concrete marshes of acres wild
By red bricks pointed
With cement fingers
Flaking deeply
From sagging shoulders
Come with me to the Winged Isle
Northern father's western child
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marshes of acres wild
Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears
Rehearse your loudest cry
There's folk out there who would do you harm
So I'll sing you no lullaby
There's a lock on the window, there's a chain on the door
And the big dog in the hall
But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night
To snatch you if you fall
So come out fighting with your rattle in hand
Thrust and parry light
A match to catch the devil's eye
Bring a cross of fire to the fight
And let no sleep bring false relief
From the tension of the fray
Come wake the dead with the scream of life
Do battle with ghosts at play
And gather your toys at the call to arms
And swing your big bear down
Upon our necks when we come to set
You sleeping safe and sound
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears
Rehearse your loudest cry
There's folk out there who will do you harm
So I'll sing you no lullaby
There's a lock on the window, there's a chain on the door
And the big dog in the all
But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night
To snatch you if you fall
So come out fighting with your rattle in hand
Thrust and parry light
A match to catch the devil's eye
Bring a cross of fire to the fight
And let no sleep bring false relief
From the tension of the fray
Come wake the dead with the scream of life
Do battle with ghosts at play
Gather your toys at the call to arms
Swing your big bear down
Upon our necks when we come to set you
Sleeping safe and sound
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't flly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
It's as well we tell no lies
To chase the face that cries
And little birds can't fly
So keep an open eye
It's as well we tell no lies
So I'll sing you no lullaby
Oh the leaded window
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
Oh, suicidal came
And the new breeze chattered
In its Maybud tenderness
Sending water lilies sailing
As she turned to get undressed
And the long night awakened
And we soared on powdered wings
Circling our tomorrows
In the whirring of the spring
Chasing, shadows slipping
In the magic lantern slide
Creatures of the candle
On a night light ride
Dipping and weaving
Flutter through the golden eagle's eye
In our haystack madness
Buttefly-stroking on a spring tide high
Oh, on a spring tide high
Life's too long (as the lemming said)
As the candle burned and the moths were wed
And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher
Before the candle's dead
Oh, the leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
Oh, suicidal came
To join in the worship
Of the light that never dies
In the moment's reflection
Of two moths spinning in her eyes
Spine-tingling railway sleepers
Sleepy houses lying four-square and firm
Orange beams divide the darkness
Rumbling fit to turn the making worm
Sliding through Victorian tunnels
Where green moss oozes from the pores
Dull echoes from the wet embankments
Battlefield allotments, fresh open sores
In late night commuter madness
Double-locked black briefcase on the floor
Like a faithful dog with master
Sleeping in the draught beside the carriage door
To each journeyman his own homecoming
Cold supper nearing with each station stop
Frosty flakes on empty platforms
Fireside slippers waiting-flip, flop
Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantastic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerrard's Cross
And hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
As the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost
On the late commuter special
Carriage lights that flicker, fade, and die
Howling into hollow blackness
Dusky diesel shudders in full cry
Down redundant morning papers
Abandon crosswords with a cough
Stationmaster in his wisdom
Told the guard to turn the heating off
Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantastic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerrard's cross
And hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
As the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost
I chase your every footstep
And I follow every whim
When you call a tune, I'm ready
To strike up the battle hymn
My lady of the meadows
My comber of the beach
You've thrown the stick for your dog's trick
But it's floating out of reach
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
As the robin craves the summer
To hide his smock of red
I need the pillow of your hair
In which to hide my head
I'm simple in my sadness
Resourceful in remorse
And I'm down straining at the lead
Holding on a windward course
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
Strip me from the bundle
Of balloons at every fair
Colorful and carefree
Designed to make you stare
But I'm lost and I'm losing
The thread that holds me down
And I'm up hot and rising
In the lights of every town
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there
So slip the chain and I'm off again
You'll find me everywhere
'Cause I'm a rover
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder
Twitch your whiskers, feel
That you're really real
And now the teatime, another day older
One warm breath from your tiny hands
You wish you were a man
Who every day can turn another page
Behind your glass, you sit and look
At my ever-open book
One brown mouse sitting in a cage
Do you wonder if I really care for you?
Am I just the company you keep?
Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill?
Who hides his head, pretending to sleep?
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulders
Twitch your whiskers, feel
That you're really real
Another teatime, another day older
Smile your little smile
Take some tea with me a while
And every day we'll turn another page
Behind your glass, we'll sit and look
At our ever-open book
One brown moouse, sitting in a cage
One brown mouse, sitting in a cage
One brown mouse, sitting in a cage
Iron-clad feather feet pounding the dust
An October's day, towards evening
Sweat-embossed veins standing proud to the plow
Salt on a deep chest seasoning
Last of the line at an honest day's toil
Turning the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone
Flies at the nostrils plunder
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale
The Percheron vie
With the Shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
To bed on a warm straw coating
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seed
To keep the old line going
And we'll stand here abreast at the back of the woods
Behind the young trees growing
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth
Your eighteen hands at the shoulder
And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to draw colder
They'll beg for your strength, your gentle power
Your noble grace and your bearing
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the deep plow, sharing
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill
Up into the cold wind facing
In stiff battle harness chained to the wood
Against the low sun raising
Bring me a wheel of oaken woods
A rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather
Bring a song for the evening
Clean brass to flash the dawn
Across these acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark townsfolk lie sleeping
The heavy horses thunder by
To wake the dying city
With the living horseman's cries
At once the old hands quicken
Bring pick and wisp and curry comb
Thrill to the sound of all
The heavy horses coming home
Iron-clad feather feet pounding the dust
An October's day, towards evening
Sweat-embossed veins standing proud to the plow
Salt on the deep chest seasoning
Bring me a wheel of oaken woods
A rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Heavy horses
Move the land under me
Behind the plow gliding
Slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way
Good morning, weathercock
How'd you fare last night?
Did the cold wind bite you?
Did you face up to the fright?
When the leaves spin from October
And whip around your tail
Did you shake from the blast?
Did you shiver through the gale?
Give us direction
The best of goodwill
Put us in touch with fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you
Do you simply reflect changes
In the patterns of the sky?
Or is it true to say the weather heeds
The twinkle in your eye?
Do you fight the rush of winter?
Do you hold snowflakes at bay?
Do you fight the dawn sun from the fields
And help it on its way?
Good morning, weathercock
Make this day bright
Put us in touch with your fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Point the way to better days we can share with you
Good morning, weathercock
Make this day bright
Put us in touch with your fair winds
Sing to us softly
Hum evening's song
Point the way to better days we can share with you