Category Archives: Songs

The Roughest Stone

I am the roughest stone on the beach.

Abrasion scrapes grooves in my voice.

Uneven wire towelling scrapes at your heart.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. I’m sure.

It’ll heal because it feels good.

Keep me and polish me smooth.

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You climbed a tree and looked down at me.

You spoke with your face.

I could see. You weren’t happy at all.

I had risen my voice. It didn’t feel like my choice.

I walked away. Like this was a play.

But this was no act.

You didn’t want to know. What you already knew.

My temper had torn our bond apart. Left holes in our hearts.

So I wrote to you. ‘We can see this through.’

There was nothing to see.

You built yourself a new home. A new start.

So in the heat I lay. Wishing for a new day. By the tree where you looked down at me.

Old sayings and songs

In days of old, when men were bold,

And paper wasn’t invented.

They wiped their arses on bits of grasses,

And went away contented.

* * *

The Birdcatchers Song

I am a fellow bright and gay

A merry fellow night and day

My name is held in great renown

throughout the land, in every town.

Where lark and linnet tunes their note

my whistle joins the warblers note

{ cant remember the next line }

For I’m the jolly birdcatcher.

* * *

The Trout

I stood beside a brooklet

That sparkled on its way

And saw beneath the wavelets

A tiny trout at play

As swiftly as an arrow it darted to and fro

The gayest of the fishes among the reeds below

An angler there was standing with his rod and line in hand

Intent upon the fishes, that sportive fearless band

‘Tis vain said my good neighbour to fish the brooklet clear

The fish will surely see you upon the bank so near

But skillful was the angler and artful too

The crystal brooklets depths defiling – he hid the fish from view

And then his skill renewing

The fishes unheeding took the bait

And I was left lamenting the tiny troutlets fate

A chicken cross hare across the road in the land of Americana have a sandwich and other mutterings

Gotta comb my opalescent goat hair budgerigar to get it to lay some eggs of pure wheat flour.

Then take the elevator to the goose sky hideout above the mountain top cave where I live for the summer.

Pick elderberries before the cuckoo spit rain wets my obligatory Whisk Day gingham check shirt and shorts combo.

Finally get sweet slumber in the cave with the cat bear violin player playing lullabies into the deep black.

Another spirit

She wants someone close, to hold, to love, to have.
Though she lives like a ghost, no one knows her name.
Wants a normal life but life won’t bend for her.
Feeling like a mess because her dreams aren’t coming true.

She looked in a book for words to help her out.
The book said:

“Ȝeue þi cunte to cunnig and craue affetir wedding.”

She knew what she must do, just felt lost and incapable.
So she stopped to love herself, to grow, to learn, to gain.

So did she ever change? Well, nobody did know.
She’s still wandering the town, through rain, through hail, through snow.

Happy

The shadows of the leaves
keep moving
as my face feels the breeze

The sky is as blue as it gets
My face is flush and warm
Momentum carries me along
Breath feeds my lungs

The rustle of the trees
keep sounding
as the birds do what they please

One foot then the other
I’m feeling light and free
Bounding across a stream
Happiness heals the past

Shy

Everyday, I say:
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to talk to people too.
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to contribute your view.

Leaving things alone can let things happen.
I don’t have to be someone else, I’m not.
Comfortable at home with the cat is my fashion.
I can do this whenever I want: A lot.

Everyday, I say:
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to talk to people too.
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to contribute your view.

Being still and listening to the world around me.
Brings me more comfort than a hug or a chat.
I know for you it’s different, it doesn’t astound me.
So I can speak up and help you out like that.

Everyday, I say:
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to talk to people too.
It’s ok to be shy.
But it’s ok to contribute your view.

Saved by an elf

Me saved, you entered my head in a wavy dream,
I’m fine, you gave me art sweeter than Ice Cream!

A story, It was so good it taught to sing songs too,
Before I go, I’ll need some support from friends, just a few.

I jog along, getting fitter everyday, under 13 stones now – always been lucky for me.
I’m never off my psychic phones, texted out messages, picking up calls, I do it free.

Oh what I am saying!
Small mercies, I’ll do anything….
Anything, just to see myself see the light at night,
I’d go through self put fright after fright.

Cancel my appointments,
recognoise my voice, tonight.

Listen, I can’t concentrate in this vacuum.
Show me previews of what life can be like.

Er..flume.

I’ll never be perfect, but anything is to me.
I’m difficult, but the easiest person you’ll meet.

I’m going to change,
I’m going to change,
I’m going to change,
I’m changing now.

Now-ow-ow
Now-ow-ow
Now-ow-ow
Now-ow-ow

Me, I’m saved, I scream your art now, it’s what Ice Cream.

Now.

{echo until fade}

Dreamland

Steam coming from you is like the sun in the West.
Dipping down after days with no rest.
Water really never did anything for you.
Ice or steam is all that you knew.

Dreamy days will pass you by,
trying hard to live your lives true.
Stories sang, the stories you live,
shape your heart, give you more to give.

But I know I can’t sing, so why I am trying?
I just don’t know, my left from writing.
Only wanted to show you that I can join in.
Believing now in a journey but where to begin?

One daytime soon I’ll catch sight of her voice,
Varied in character you’re a whole play at once.

Blue Wales of my eyes

“What’s wiv all da H’s in your name dude!?”

Ummm…. I don’t know, what my given names mean to you.
It shouldn’t mean a thing, I hope it doesn’t, that is true.
Softly spoken answers to questions, aren’t always real (no).
It’s just a dream I had once, doesn’t mean a great deal (two U).

Anyway, I digress:

H is for Hollow, H is for all the great Hopes,
H is for the Horrid times, by, H is for History.

With many thanks in big ways I point my hands north,
Blue takk helps sticking ceiling space to the pours,
The texture of the paper on what my friends do draw,
Times I look at the maps to remember what my brain is four.

So:

H is for Hollow, H is for all the great Hopes,
H is for the Horrid times, by, H is for History.

I hear U calling out through my record player,
Something I can’t quite make out, someting I did not hear,
Whatever, nevermind, I will not let it dwell,
Sometimes, somethings just don’t go so well.

So shhhhhhhhh:

H is for Hollow, H is for all the great Hopes,
H is for the Horrid times, by, H is for History.

An Earthling’s engWish

“John are you ‘avin’ diss for tea?”
“Neyow!!!!”

I will refer to your look, as a light, happy, glance.
With a hue just off blue, that caused a dot to dance.

Collectively we are a shape. Not knowing what it is.
Parameters of what were; are, changing!

Hiss, for a happy life:
Hiss, body will be healthy.
Hiss, goals will be plenty,
Always a future for you.

Never asked to be born, but I have to thank you for a chance.
The inspirations, the artists and singers, the individuals, all of them, thanks.
All of them, alone or together, on this soil, on this Earth.
From myself, you will never know, you own true worth.

Smile, my friends, smile.
Smile, my friends, smile.
Smile, my friends, smile.
Smile, my friends, smile.
Smile.

I will refer to your look, as a light, happy, glance.
With a hue just off blue, that caused a dot to dance.

Where are you from, and where are you from?
You were cooking for us, now,
This Sheff is cooking up a meal,
I just want you to have this steel.

{echo until fade}

Waiting On A Return

You’re selling us our health after making us ill.
Ripping up our human rights so we can’t get our fill.
Want to share a bit of culture.
Want to build a bridge, a friendship.
But who cares about us.
But who knows how long you’ll live in denial.

You’re waiting on a return.
Putting all ends together as one.

I prefer an unravelling spiral. Something to aspire to.

Cân Gymreig

Cofio (beth yw) coginio.
Arnofio (dim mwy).

Cyn y nghysgod cawl pysgod.
Gwelwch! Oh! Gwelwch yn dda! Gweld dwbl, gyda fi. Pysgod chwythu gysan!

Coginio dim mwy.
Llysieuol. Llysieuol. Llysieuol. Llysieuol. Warchod dim mwy.