Bedsitter Images

ein Bild


Bedsitter Images

The subway station's closed again
Sleeps beneath its veil of rain
My footprints broken trail behind
Steals the nightlights from my mind
The dark deserted streets then clear
Today has lived and died in here
So I leave the chapel gloom
To find the shelter of my tiny room

But it's alright while the lights of the city shine so bright
It's all right till the last winding train fades from sight
Then alone in my room I must stay to lose or win
While these wild bedsitter images come back to hem me in

The panelled patterns on the door
Chase shivering shadows to the floor
Upon the pillow worn and thin
The memories of hopes begin
The carpet with its flowers in shreds
Expires a foot before my bed
The crack that won't return again
Advancing through my broken window pane

But it's alright while the lights of the city shine so bright
It's all right till the last winding train fades from sight
Then alone in my room I must stay to lose or win
While these wild bedsitter images come back to hem me in

The friends I've left back home all write
With laughing words that warm my sight
Saying "Tell us, how's the city life?"
and I reply and say just fine

And so you see I can't go back
Until I either win or crack
I'm standing in a one way street
The stage is set
The story incomplete

But it's alright while the lights of the city shine so bright
It's alright till the last winding train fades from sight
Then alone in my room I must stay to lose or win
While these wild bedsitter images come back to hem me in


Swiss Cottage Manoeuvres

On a Christmas cake day
One friday in August
In a bookshop in Charing Cross Road
I first set eyes on a girl and at once I did know

She had eyes like a poet and hair like a rainbow
Reflecting the lights that did glow
And the sadness she kept in her eyes
Struck my senses a blow

And so as by chance at the touch of a glance
We could find ourselves out in the road
With no crush of time to defeat us and no place to go
And I couldn't say how but the coffee bar crowd
Had appeared through the silence that broke
And she said "Oh my father's a judge in St Albans you know"

"Oh well, then perhaps I could help you
You know that St. Albans is miles away
And I've got a room in Swiss Cottage in which you could stay"

She laughed "Oh I couldn't do that,
For I've got to be up in the morning you see"
So I rang up to find out the first morning train she could take
And so in the gloom of a candlelit room
With spaghetti, two forks and a plate
She said "Oh I really would like to be free and escape"

"Oh well if it's like that you don't have to go back
And you're perfectly welcome to stay"
"But I've not finished school yet" she said as she got into bed

And so as she slept and the pure morning crept
Through the windows to take her away
I thought you can't make people be what you want them to be

I could see my self nailed to a dormitory tale
Of a holiday night's escapade
And just yesterday she had seemed like a woman to me

And so like a child with the sleep in her eyes
Where the sadness of age had once been
She left on the train with a "See you again" and a smile

And I couldn't say what I had won or I lost
Or even just what I had seen
But when I'm alone I just think of her once in a while


The Carmichaels

Mr Carmichael says that he loves his wife, I believe he does
Gives her everything that a man can give
But Mr Carmichael beggars himself on the altar of his love
And you can tell him that that's not the way to live

And oh how the wind has blown
The leaves from the linden tree
And oh when the night grows free
Why does Mrs Carmichael come to me?

Mrs Carmichael rises at ten, takes her timeIs at her ease
Drinking coffee in slippers and negligee
Opens the door and the milkman brings her dreams, there's no-one sees
Except the statue of Venus and she won't say

And oh how the wind has blown
The leaves from the linden tree
And oh when the night grows free
Why does Mrs Carmichael come to me?

Oh Mr Carmichael, captain and star of his office billiards team
Smiles to greet the applause as his ball goes in
Hurrying back, bringing his victory home but there's no-one here
And supper waits on the table inside a tin

And oh how the linden leaves
Lie tossed as the night wind blows
And struck in his silent pose
Mr Carmichael weeps and there's no-one knows



Scandinavian Girl

The Gothenburg streets were like silver sheets
As I kicked my feet through the snowy world
And in that land there I held the hand of my Scandinavian Girl

We stood as part of a bleak facade
Though the city's heart was still beating
And for a while there I shared a smile with my Scandinavian Girl

And I stood there quite surprised
To see reflected in her eyes
The very thought I left unsaid as too unwise.
And so we passed through a world of glass
And the moment passed and was lost to time
Time too soon with his broken moon took my Scandinavian Girl



Pretty Golden Hair

In England's pleasant green
Like a picture postcard scene
To childhood spread with fond maternal care
From the day that he was born
Proud relations came to fawn
And compliment his pretty golden hair

In boyhood sent away
To a boarding school to stay
Its crumbling proud traditions forced to bear
And his friends in this new world
Said he looks more like a girl
With those blue eyes and pretty golden hair

Fades secluded youth
Into manhood's search for truth
His mother's eyes now wet had turned to stare
For he said I must be bound
This day for London town
For I believe my fortune's waiting there
So like an eager cutting knife
He plunged in a new life
Oh never known beforehand anywhere
And the thought that he might trip
In his ignorance and slip
Never struck beneath his pretty golden hair

Ah the days soon grew thinAnd boredom fast set in
His job was thrown away without a care
For a man who softly said
You'll earn twice as much instead
With those blue eyes and pretty golden hair

Well London town possessed
Of many a tempter's nest
And thus he fell with scarce another care
As so easily he slipped
Into prostitution's grip
Foundationed by his pretty golden hair

Ah but the years quickly flew
And his mind slowly grew
From early freedom into deep despair
As the money ceased to roll
A tired and lonely soul
Poured curses on his pretty golden hair

Ah the years stole their time
Now the living's hard to find
And early friends have vanished in the air
And the gay parties's ease
Changed to public lavatories
Have turned to grey his pretty golden hair

Oh his life was only used
And his body just abused
By those who never think and never care
But though his file said suicide
No, that wasn't why he died it was murder by his pretty golden hair


Denise At 16

INSTRUMENTAL


Samuel, Oh how You`ve Changed!

Most of the better bred
Woollen toys have gone to bed
And the teddy bear is a-sleeping in the cupboard
And the wooden soldiers all
And the rubber bouncing ball
Are list'ning to the tales of mother Hubbard

But the fairy lights are dark
On the Christmas tree as restlessly
I stand here forgotten and alone
I've been too long on the floor,
I can't stay here any more
So Jenny won't you please take me home

Oh the statues that I see
Are made out of blackest ivory
But I pass them by never guessing of their meaning
And a million voices cry
As I walk across the sky
Though it's restless here, why it's only in-betweening

For the journey that I'm on
Is incomplete so to my feet
I must rise now and travel on alone
Ah, but if you've got some time to spend
In between now and the end
Oh Jenny won't you please take me home

Now almost every word that I've said that you have heard
Hides another thought left unspoken
And if I may not reach it through the gutter of my speech
Then it best be left unsaid than lie unbroken
And if you wish to see, then from time to time
Look in my eyes
Oh the gold is not far beneath the stone
If that will not say, it doesn't matter anyway
Jenny won't you please take me home


Cleave To Me

Constancy dwells in
Realms of perfection
I hear the call
Life is free and love is all
Cleave to me

Harmony holds forth
Pleasures abounding
And love is free
Neath the weeping willow tree
Cleave to me

Blow thou winds my good fortunes bring
Mind the hours such as minstrels sing
Come fair thoughts let heart take wing
My lady calls to me.

Emily only
Dreams and is lonely
Dark is the night
And from now unto the light
Cleave to me



A Long Way Down From Stephanie

Maid, truly I see
Now it must be a long way down
And with love's burnt shore
Must all dalliance hither
Crumble and wither

Oh strange,
Methought it strange
Thou couldst deprive me of my crown
Thou cast upon me as linden bears fruit of bitter strain

And I would go forsooth to the dragon's tooth
If thus a chance were gained
To resurrect that part of your wanton heart
To whose grave my own is chained

And hold, ere thou dost go
Were not thy moments gilded too?
And in honesty didst thou not measure for measure
Countenance pleasure?

Cold wert thou so cold
Lest thy mind be frozen too
And will not spring be reborn
But might the sun for the frost here
That all be not lost herein

And I would rather, zounds
It were hell's own hounds
Whose foul breath upon my face
Did portent my doom
Than to bear the gloom
Of a world stripped of thy grace

And so in truth I know
Yes it will be a long way down
And if go thou must
Ere we should meet accidental
Prithee be gentle
And though distant now
Perchance the hand of time may soothe
And though lost at six
If I should live to be seven I might forget Stephanie



Ivich

INSTRUMENTAL



Beleeka Doodle Day

I could have gone to Cambridge with Lionel
I think I tried to raise a pound
Just to see the University
And find the scenes she hung around

Is your mind a menagerie
Perhaps, I mean it's hard to say
A pterodactyl built its nest on me
I'm feeling strange but quite OK
On this beleeka doodle day

Archimedes and his orchestra
Loudly disapprove of life
Got mad when I called them unmusical
Tried to land me with a wife

Out in San Francisco's wonderland
The purple poet kneels to pray
But I just hang around your city and
I don't have anything to say
On this beleeka doodle day

I had a week once in Italy
With Mike and Robin and some songs
I had a girl once in Sweden but
I haven't seen her for too long

I drift down to the Cousins and
The usual people were all there
I saw a girl in the soft red light
I smiled but she looked away
On my beleeka doodle day

I wrote a song just before the dawn
And then I lost it now its gone
I spent all day playing Monopoly
It seemed to feel like getting on

Sometimes I wonder how it feels to be
Paul McCartney or the Queen
I wonder how they'd feel if they were me
I think its gonna start to rain
On this beleeka doodle day

Oh Jack the Ripper and Hippocrates
They're out to get me in the end
I think they'll find me by the ruined trees
Without a candle or a friend
Then they'll bring me to the wizard's cave
Softly mould me into clay
And lock me in with no telephone
And laugh and throw the keys away
On my beleeka doodle day

So to Avril and I would like to give
My thanks for lending me your room
I stayed one night, ah but I had to go
I think I'll maybe come back soon

Of all the girls that I have ever known
There wasn't one who didn't play
They came and went just like the newspapers
And left me mere to find my way
Through my beleeka doodle day