1. |
Gridlines
02:42
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We are defined by gridlines.
In four dimensions, space and time.
A place to sleep.
An hour to eat.
With no coordinates for peace.
A compass point and bearing north.
A route-map planned for setting forth.
Waystation signs
Are bound in time.
We brook no change in our designs.
This helpful map, so careful made,
With all you need to know displayed,
To show your way
And guide your day,
Was never supposed to be obeyed.
I will wipe clear this page of mine
And cut across those poor gridlines.
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2. |
Northumberland
03:19
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Remember the path where the church burnt down
How I wasn't there when your old man came around.
And the crowd on the harbour wall and strength of that fisherman's hand
And in the end all these words are for Northumberland
Remember we drove to the coast with the clock locked on midnight
Throwing stones into the sea to keep some old gods alive.
And the sparks under your feet from the pebbles on the strand
And in the end all these words are for Northumberland
And we were young
And oh god we were dumb
And we were wired
And aching to be numb
Remember the stone stacks heading out past the shoreline
How we made the highest pile to mark the lowest tide.
And those houses made of wood no less broken than the sand.
And in the end all these words are for Northumberland
And we were young
And oh god we were dumb
And we were wired
And aching to be numb
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3. |
Exile
02:23
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He said something about soul
We sat round a campfire light with a burning guitar and an empty fight
With the wind howling east across an empty ocean.
We told stories of the rails, of times we'd lost and times we'd failed
Of docks and ports on the wrong side of the ocean
He sang something about soul
I sat down and split the skins, I broke the sticks and bent the rims
To quell the beat of drums across the ocean
We turned our backs and made our tracks, left the bones of song and an empty throne
to feed the thirst of an ever hungry ocean
We lost something of our soul
We stripped the strings for mechanical things, and a basswood neck makes a handy club
To beat a bleeding heart back to the ocean
When we made it higher ground we burned it clear of all we found
And wiped our history free of a dirty ocean
And he stopped singing about soul
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4. |
Your Rebel Song
03:16
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These old beams are just the ribs of history
These old walls are just the skin we breathe
These old dreams are just the stories told
These old scenes are just to keep us cold
No rebel dreams, no rebel songs, no rebel dreams
It's not what you bring, it's what you give
And what it costs is what you had to leave behind
It's not where you're from, it's where you live
It's not what you've found but what you've yet to find
Your rebel song, your rebel dream,
Your rebel song, your rebel dream,
Don't lose your song, don't lose your dream
Don't lose your song, don't lose your dream
We are laying down bones
History holds us near
We are building on bones
Year on year, year on year.
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5. |
These Ghosts
02:51
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If you stand above the railway bridge
Look down on the fog and play a game
Every eddy and swirl of the whiteness
Becomes the ghost of a train
We're hanging on by our fingertips
Fixing up and making good
And it looks like everything's going to shit
So I'll head down to the Farthing Woods
Anything a hand gets turned to
In time gets turned away again
No matter what he learns to do
There's no trades left for a renaissance man
The justice of the peace and the teacher
They say they've done all they could
Submitted their depositions to the treasury
But they know it will do no good
It won't go back and it won't go right
You can't fix it up to be the same
We're blowing out candles every night
And the ghosts are rising out in the rain
If you stand above the railway bridge
Float above this old refrain
There's no sparing and there's no saving
These ghosts have all our names
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6. |
The Map
06:24
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Finan Ap Doyle of the High Reaches, I
Do make a claim on this ground.
We've walked these paths and wider skies
Before your king took up his crown.
We've sent our strongest for your fights,
Counted home their wounded souls.
After certain years of nights,
Our mothers refuse your tolls.
Three rivers take out bodies to the sea,
But only one brings them back.
I'm all wrapped up in this geography,
I am a man become a map.
Finan Ap Doyle of the High Reaches, I
Do reject your soldiery.
I speak with the tongue of a thousand men,
From here to Harding Sea.
Let pass your cattle there to graze,
Let pass your tinker's dray.
Let pass your merchant's weary flatland legs,
But let no man bear a blade.
Three rivers take out bodies to the sea,
But only one brings them back.
I'm all wrapped up in this geography,
I am a man become a map.
Finan Ap Doyle of the High Reaches, I
And the brothers of my birth.
Where I am buried there my sword shall lie,
We do hereby reject their worth.
Raise not your banners here again,
Nor from here to Harding Sea.
We are the last High Reaches fighting men,
Our sons we raise to peace.
Three rivers take out bodies to the sea,
But only one brings them back.
I'm all wrapped up in this geography,
I am a man become a map.
I am a man become a map.
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7. |
The Engineer
04:21
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He told stories and he made pictures out of matchsticks on the dash
He named places and we swapped journeys, and airports far from home
And there are stories
Under a wide winter sun
Driving with the engineer
Under a wide winter sun
I named mountains as he named rivers, from a munro on the coast
We made breakfast on an open fire, near a wind break on the moor
We watched bridges over waters where neither of us had sailed
We saw islands in cloud strewn sunsets where never man had hailed
And there are worries
Under a wide winter sun
Drinking with the engineer
Under a wide winter sun
Whiskey breakfasts with the engineer
Under a wide winter sun
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8. |
Hinterland
03:10
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There is no light
But grey light
And there is no sound
But old sounds
And there is no time
Not our time
In the hinterland
And we walk
Through cold mists
And there is talk
Of histories
But there is no side
Not our side
In the hinterland
And kings have come
And twelve long men
With books of gods
And the laws they made
And they will pass
And sink to grass
In the hinterland
We will stand our watch
And hold our ground
Cold grey men
of the hinterland
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9. |
In Between Tides
04:44
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Find a map, trace a line,
Count the miles and miles and miles
From yours to mine, and mark the tides
Here we are at your door and we have been here before,
Between the dunes mand the shore, we didn't ask for more.
There's a line in the sand you could clear with your hand.
Yeah you could clear with your hand a small stretch of land.
If I'd said then, what I said now,
Would we have worked something out somehow?
If I'd said now, what I said then,
Would we have walked away and would we still be friends?
Steal a boat, dump the nets,
Set a course with no regrets. And pray the waves are as bad as it gets.
They're not as bad as it gets.
Your name came in on the all souls tide,
A strangers face from the outside, and out of mind. I was knocked off line.
There's a line in the sand you could draw with your hand
Yeah you could draw with your hand all that I understand.
If I'd said then, what I said now,
Would we have worked something out somehow?
If I'd said now, what I said then,
Would we have walked away again?
If I'd said then, what I said now,
Would we have worked something out somehow?
If I'd said now, what I said then,
Would we have walked away and would we still be friends?
There's a mark at its height about half a mile wide.
You could lay out a line, in between tides.
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10. |
Stronger Than Hope
03:33
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Blue light flickered around the room
My brothers and I were waiting for our chance to come
Water running faster now
Passing words like a flying dream in the comfort of darkness
A simple song sung low,
A tale of a dream of a walk along a wall that bound the sea
Fighting for sleep against the wind
And burning with a fire of a passion that will not rest
Blood is stronger than water, stronger than love.
Blood is stronger than fear, stronger than hope.
Light was growing through the tall trees
The ghost of a dawn that lit a path that had to be walked.
Who were we to stand so proud
Who were we to set ourselves on the path of the laws of man and god.
We had simply started out with no thought,
Taken it upon ourselves the task to bring it back it down.
There is not a door that can stand, or a way that can be blocked
Against three brothers bound in blood.
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11. |
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We've been having dreams
And they will not let me be
There are ghosts in the margins
Spirits from the border enter in
Some things don't know what they mean
Some things don't mean what they seem
Some things don't want to be seen
Some things won't pass this way again
There were places in your memory
Glimpses through the fog and trees
Beyond the limits of the open sea
There are spaces in between
Some things are never clearly seen
Some things never show what they mean
Some things don't want to be free
Some things won't pass this way again
There are ghosts in the margins
Spirits from the border enter in
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12. |
Let Her Run
04:49
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There's a white horse, there's a wide road,
There's a long route home.
There's a white horse, there's a wide road,
There's a long route home.
There's a wind pushing, there's a tide pulling,
There's a light calling home.
There's a wind pushing, there's a tide pulling,
There's a light calling home.
Let her run sailor, let her run sailor,
Let her run sailor, home.
Now
A broken robot politely asking for help,
as its batteries and circuits are stripped from its shell.
There's a howl and a still of a hunting beast,
And a haunting fear it will never know peace.
Let her run sailor, let her run sailor,
Let her run sailor, home.
Now
There's a hammer beating, there's a hammer beating,
There's a hammer beating steel.
There's a hammer beating, there's a hammer beating,
In your chest, beating steel.
Let her run sailor, let her run sailor,
Let her run sailor, home.
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13. |
The Least And The Most
02:58
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Dear Peter I wrote you this letter,
I hope it gets there before you head down.
I don't trust the post in Allantown,
But it's been pretty good hereabouts.
You would have liked the weekend,
Made some new friends I know.
There's some razor sharp minds in that old gang,
They'd keep you on your toes.
We're both the wrong side of fifty.
To be going through this shit again.
But we said goodbye to Allantown,
Said avoid it if you can.
Rachel's taking the car in the morning,
It's cheaper and quicker than the train.
But I can't get away from the office,
Not in the next few days.
I'm sorry I can't go through with this,
I can't sing those hymns again.
It's too sore and too soon and I'm bruised and abused.
And there's something not right in my head.
So Peter I paid for flowers,
And Rachel will say a few words.
This paper is smeared in beer and tears
And I'm sitting here feeling absurd.
I'm not going back to Allantown,
Not for me, not for her, not for you.
But I'll light up a candle on Sunday,
It's the least and the most I can do.
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Drew Stephenson York, UK
Drew Stephenson is a singer-songwriter based in York, UK, writing conventional songs about unconventional subjects.
Death, monkeys and space hardware may all feature.
He is also part of The Southern Wild.
Drew Stephenson recommends:
The Rhythm And The Rhyme
by Boss Caine
Dark, brooding, acoustic coffin country rock. What's not to like?
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Not York-based this lot but a great mix of vocal hooks, chugging 50s style guitar riffs and great singalong choruses
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Maps for Lost Roads
by The Southern Wild
This is the new EP from the band side of my songwriting, similar but moreso, and louder...
go to albumIf you like Drew Stephenson, you may also like:
The 5th Sound On Sound Forum Album
by Members of the Sound On Sound forum
supported by 4 fans who also own “Songs From The Distant Borders”
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Jan 5, 2016
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such bad things happen
by Levi Fuller & the Library
Turbulent indie rock from Levi Fuller & the Library that has the snarl of hardcore and the knotty meter of math rock.
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