1. |
Malachi My Messenger
02:52
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Malachi my messenger every question has an answer
if you can't feel the refiner’s fire is it hard for you?
Malachi my messenger i've wandered for ever
and never got started on the things that i meant to do...
When i make those jewels i swear the windows of heaven
won't change me I'm sure that I'll step through and be not consumed.
Malachi my messenger be like gold and silver
will a man rob God of every use for his want of proof?
The messenger arrives too late to be of any use.
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2. |
Kill Devil Hills
03:23
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First took flight beneath Kill Devil Hills
opened eyes those first film stills.
What I'd give to feel and be there,
strip the years, the words away
to a thing of simple pleasure,
how we changed the world today.
Rock the winds beneath Kill Devil Hills
leave your things believe you will.
What I'd give to feel it lifting,
strip the life on earth away
for a moment make the future,
how we changed the world today.
Took our machine to Kill Devil Hills,
flew to the stars flew to the films.
What I'd give to keep that moment,
wonder in a wooden frame,
before the routines take over;
how we changed the world today.
Ask yourself in tones of wonder, have I changed the world today?
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3. |
Rhythm and Stillness
03:57
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The protest of hotels with doors that open outward:
you know this, the hotels will fill the rooms with doubters.
And cameras they follow us, waltzing silently above our heads
recording our behaviour in case we should forget.
Alone is a hotel that promised you the shelter,
you wander and know well I'll never reach you in there.
The rhythm of your speech catches me and I can't turn away:
the stillness of your body makes me realise what you are trying to say.
You heard me, it opens: out comes something else
hanging on your sleeve a notice waiting for the train of the bereaved,
I lost my soul or it lost me,
bless my soul, I lost my soul or it lost me.
And cameras they follow us hoping for the smallest real insight:
how must it feel to march in rhythm & stillness
into the night?
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4. |
Saints
01:53
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When the saints go marching in
and when the band begins to play
I want to be in that number
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5. |
Clean Kick
03:15
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She goes to the window got her life worked out
and says I wonder what I'm going to fall for now;
the kind of thing that happens every day, and I need it.
I can get into orbit I can go to the store
she walks round the corner he falls from the fifth floor.
I don’t know why it won’t go away, o I mean it.
Read a story about a girl who was stuck up in glue
got to the end and realised it was you:
then I get the clean kick in my head
and I’d love to be strong but I’d rather be dead.
She was sleeping after poison he was wearing a ring;
made a mark on her boy he didn’t feel anything;
I'm kind of wasted now maybe I should stay I should leave it...
it’s just out of season, she is down on the pier,
and her beau leaves a note but she knows he never comes here.
I really want to end a different way, o I mean it.
It really depends on your particular side.
She has nowhere to run to and no-one to side with.
Clean kick comes and it burns out your eyes,
I’d like to be your saviour but I’d rather die.
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6. |
Sovereign
02:38
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Things get less painful the further you get from them;
boy in the river is dreaming of Bethlehem,
knows that it's summer; imagines the great lakes,
changing the world in a body the wrong shape:
sovereign.
Hardly remember things not getting nearer,
nowhere to move when you look in the mirror;
you write about the people you're scared of becoming,
imagine the rush hour with no engine running:
sovereign.
Lost in a bedroom with one tiny window,
sit by it always watching the days go;
in dreams you'll be running but never with action,
imagines the future the camera's catching:
sovereign.
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7. |
Turning Circle
02:45
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8. |
Kochel
04:49
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I count these bars precisely / they mark out time inside me /
a stave I follow to the grave / let numbers sing /
I take this whole world with me / composed controlled completely /
each piece in place, an ordered grace / let numbers sing /
for harmony remains here / in each count of a new year /
with months and days and seconds praise / the numbers sing /
this life I gave to all things / and found my peace in counting /
this measured sum / this work well done / let numbers sing /
and numbers sing
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9. |
I Have Lost The Road
04:16
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She knows
she knows
this useless breathing
this useless breathing
and cut out below
a lack of trust in the muscles leaves dust:
I have lost the road.
And I was conversated:
“don’t you think the stars are over-rated?”
not beautiful and barely mated,
half made, half wasted,
not here, not there:
I know I have lost the road.
Slips his wrists around the fists you make when you have lost control
I promised no,
I know.
Stop words
can’t make the gap between here and there
or her and leaving
in the shift of early evening
I promise anything
my compass dances badly,
stop words slow:
I know I have lost the road.
She knows
she knows
and they will see me
for my useless breathing.
Let the gap be closed.
I swallow once, twice,
you can’t believe I'm fully grown.
Not here, not there:
I know
I know I have lost the road.
And I know full well that I have lost the road.
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10. |
Spring Song
03:17
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Because I shouldn't ask
because I can't play jazz
because my fingers ache
because I make mistakes
because I'm out of time
because I know your spine
because spring is haunting me again to change my tune
but I can't change it.
Because the sky's too bright
because i waste the nights
because i justify
because my life slips by
because there's nothing left
because I faked my death
because spring is haunting me again to change my tune
but I can’t change it:
I will play the songs that got me this far and no further.
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11. |
Ready-Mades
04:50
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The clouds arrive at ten to five, they block the sun.
It seems a shame to think of rain with work well done.
A drink to ease the miseries of scores of days.
Each rolling stone goes tumbling home to ready-mades.
Through the bridges and the tunnels,
to the homes they make the sun will
hide from them the scores of days.
For the promise of another,
and a better, life to offer:
what they're owed will be repaid.
The people in the streets below, all making ready-mades.
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The Winter Journey Manchester, UK
Anthony Braithwaite & Suzy Mangion, a husband & wife out of place in Manchester, UK creating gentle music in their drawing room as if it were yesterday. Songs of vintage warmth & homely welcome, recorded on birthdays, Christmases & days of rest. A land of pastoral finger picked guitar, village hall harmonies, zither minimalism, & tap dancing. A personal rumination on a world perhaps forgotten. ... more
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