1. |
Snowman
02:43
|
|||
|
You said we should build a snowman, while in the garden snow was there.
Go out and play like children, make an angel, shed our cares.
We always used to build a snowman, every winter in our back lane.
Cold hands, warm hearts & laughter, simple entertainment, childish games
Are these the last flakes we see this winter?
The last flakes we see at all.
You know I get these flights of fancy, all sorts of whimsy fills my head.
We could be simply filing paper; let’s build a snowman instead.
I went out looking like a snowman, snow on my glasses, frozen hair.
If I go out again tomorrow, will that snowman still be there?
Are these the last flakes we see this winter?
The last flakes we see at all.
You said we should build a snowman, while in the garden snow was there.
|
||||
2. |
Twelfth Night
02:57
|
|||
|
A night for dressing up, a night for staying in
Two lonely souls here – what’s the story we’re playing in?
Don’t want to feel the cold air, that bracing winter’s chill
Love’s the only gift we bring; Twelfth Night or what you will
I admire your yellow stockings, and the light shining on your skin
But I miss the sound of laughter, with that look we could both be twins
Is it wiser to stay indoors: and avoid the winter’s ills?
Love’s the only gift we bring; Twelfth Night or what you will
I’m hesitant to even try to break the spell
I’m reaching for the heavens; you’re raising hell, raising hell.
Solitary excesses don’t ever stand the test of time
Sit here beside the open fire, and warm the sweet red wine
In the depths of winter, the gifts and the treasures of kings
Love’s the only gift we bring; Twelfth Night or what you will
|
||||
3. |
Martyr's Day
02:41
|
|||
|
I’m standing on the riverbank, the waters cold and grey.
My head is full of questions, on this martyr’s day.
I see a ripple in the water, and I watch it fade away.
Flowers bloom and then they fade on this martyr’s day.
On this martyr’s day looking for salvation
On this martyr’s day, what’s the celebration
A year ago, before the flood, before this passion play
When everything was simple on this martyr’s day
I see a ripple in the water, and I watch it fade away.
Flowers bloom and then they fade on this martyr’s day.
On this martyr’s day looking for salvation
On this martyr’s day, what’s the celebration
I see a ripple in the water, and I watch it fade away.
Flowers bloom and then they fade on this martyr’s day
|
||||
4. |
Crackerjack
02:58
|
|||
|
I’m racing to the shops in the morning light, feeling that I’m right out of time
Edging through the crowds in the busy streets, let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
A modicum of tact is the best defence; enjoy it with the fruit of the vine
Settle down to watch on the black and white, let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
You were at the front of the queue, I was at the back
Crackerjack
Crackerjack
I’m looking at the window at the world outside, wondering if I’m right out of time
And if they’re taking names, put me there on the list, let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
Let me be the first in line
You were at the front of the queue, I was at the back
Crackerjack
Crackerjack
|
||||
5. |
Work in Progress
03:54
|
|||
|
The simple things in life unrecognised; passing by as we grab bigger things.
There’s always an element of ying and yang, orchestrated by roundabouts and swings.
If you’re not out upon the edge; you’re taking up too much space.
And in your tiny comfort zone, you’re losing in the human race.
Life is swell, I’ve had a taste; I have to say that life is good.
Sitting by the swimming pool; the finest in the neighbourhood.
The sun upon your back; the blue skies as you rise.
Never been documented, I’m as sweet as apple pie.
It’s a work in progress; need to fix some paperwork.
It’s a work in progress; my shady entrepreneur.
It’s a work in progress.
They say that life’s a dead-end street; never going to make it out alive.
So, nothing’s perfect, that’s a fact; I’ve never been that worldly-wise.
Living incognito is the hardest exercise.
Since I skipped across the border back in nineteen ninety-five
I’ve heard it said you know that life’s a beach; I never really understood.
Tantalisingly out of reach; I’m not even in the neighbourhood.
And with a heavy heart I realise the strange noises on the phone
The slightest movement in the trees; the feeling that I’m not alone.
It’s a work in progress.
It’s a work in progress.
Life’s a work in progress
|
||||
6. |
Watching the Fireflies
02:51
|
|||
|
Sitting in the garden ‘til the latest of hours
What kind of coat do you wear to a meteor shower?
In the company of fireflies, underneath a roof of stars
To the sounds of public transport and out of tune guitars
We were talking of history & astronomy & what on earth we all learnt.
As they fell from the dark night skies;(thought I was watching the fireflies
I was watching the fireflies burn.
The councillor packed the chambers, tongue spilling traces of gold.
The comedian worked the smoky clubs in language profane and bold.
I saw two of them kicking the apple carts when the time was ripe for change.
To the sounds of dated orthodoxies and positions preordained
And could they have changed history? Made the ships turn?
I was watching the fireflies, watching the fireflies.
I was watching the fireflies, watching the fireflies.
I was watching the fireflies burn.
|
||||
7. |
Café au Lait
03:10
|
|||
|
You’re my best friend, you make my day, sweet biscuits, and café au lait.
When I wake up, each and every day, we make up with café au lait.
Café au lait, café au lait
It’s hard to start up when it’s cold and grey, warm the heart up with café au lait.
Take the first step into the day, yes, I will accept café au lait.
Café au lait, café au lait
Just to keep us warming to each other, every morning every day
It may not suit you, the taste’s ok but it’s the future, café au lait.
It’s because we’re older our tastes have changed lean on my shoulder café au lait.
You’re my best friend, you make my day, sweet biscuits, and café au lait.
When I wake up, each and every day, we make up with café au lait.
|
||||
8. |
Danny Blanchflower
03:40
|
|||
|
Leave by the back yard, but mind how you go; back in at sundown don’t be a hero.
Bike to the river, bike to the river, bike to the river past hawthorn hedgerows
Growing up right, growing up fine
Eating shredded wheat with Danny Blanchflower
If I was carefree, I don’t really know. The gist of the rules was to know where you go.
Walk to the coastline, walk to the coastline, walk down to Tynemouth with cousin in tow.
Growing up right, growing up fine
Eating shredded wheat with Danny Blanchflower
Ooh, silver daisies.
Ooh, golden buttercups.
Was life so simple, or it’s just afterglow; memory burns brighter the harder you blow.
Heat up the tar now, heat up the tar now, boil up the tar now the fire’s on the go.
Growing up right, growing up fine
Eating shredded wheat with Danny Blanchflower
This is your life with Danny Blanchflower
|
||||
9. |
How It's Done
02:48
|
|||
|
I remember in the old days, we used to walk out in the sun.
There’s a ring around the moon tonight, you said you’d show me how it’s done.
Last week we were good friends, laughing full of fun.
Then you said that you were leaving, I guess you’ll show me how it’s done.
I guess I’ll feel the heartache, I guess like everyone.
And you can take the high road, I guess you’ll show me how it’s done.
I dream of how to change the story, make it different to how it’s run
It should always have a happy ending, I guess you’d show me how it’s done
I guess I’ll feel the heartache, I guess like everyone
And you can take the high road, I guess you’ll show me how it’s done
I remember in the old days, we used to walk out in the sun
There’s a ring around the moon tonight, you said you’d show me how it’s done
Show me how it’s done; you said you’d show me how it’s done
|
||||
10. |
Ten Minutes to Call Home
03:42
|
|||
|
The lights pick out the figure, standing by the car.
Motionless face to the sky
He pats his pockets for a handful of small change.
Tears are rolling from his eyes.
Find the right words for farewell.
The right words for farewell
Ten minutes to call home.
Stands in the phone box, takes three rings before she’s there
‘Strange note you wrote’ he hears her say
‘Can’t tell you why but please go stay on Jackie’s farm
I may not see you for a while’
Find the right words for farewell
The right words for farewell
Ten minutes to call home.
That night he dreamt he saw the Vulcans flying high
Dark grey bombers in the sky
He shields his face and wakes alone and full of fear
Tears are rolling from his eyes
Find the right words for farewell
The right words for farewell
Ten minutes to call home.
|
||||
11. |
Written on Water
02:35
|
|||
|
I pushed the boat out Saturday night, and I promised you Sunday sun.
You showed sympathy for my strange ways, patience by the ton
All of my half-baked platitudes you never find over the top.
And you said it should last forever; never wanted it to stop
We’re all written on shadows; we’re all painted skin.
We’re all sleeping in a grey, grey dawn. Won’t you just let me in?
We’re all written on water; how will we ever know.
We’re all whistling in the teeth of the wind; never let me go.
Monday morning came around, like it always will.
Each of us nursing diff’rent ambitions tilting at windmills
We’re all written on water, how will we ever know
We’re all whistling in the teeth of the wind; never let me go
No don’t ever let me go, please don’t ever let me go
|
||||
12. |
I Believe
02:54
|
|||
|
I believe,
The world is round.
I believe.
I believe,
The world goes round the sun.
I believe.
I believe my heart is true.
Please believe my heart is true.
I believe,
The touch of you
I believe.
I believe,
Your sun warmed skin
I believe.
I believe my heart is true.
Please believe my heart is true.
I believe,
The world is round.
I believe.
|
||||
northeasterner Alnwick, UK
Singer songwriter, Tyneside-raised, living in Northumberland
northeasterner recommends:
Understudy (2022)
by Boo Hewerdine
Each song he writes is a pearl
go to albumIf you like northeasterner, you may also like:
supported by 4 fans who also own “Sound of Snow”
A beautiful gift from Glasgow. Can't wait to get it.
go to album
Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
go to album
Michelle Stodart’s folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times.
go to album
Veneer (20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)
by José González
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 29, 2023
go to album
Onliness (songs of solitude & singularity)
by Josienne Clarke
Folk artist Josienne Clarke revisits music from her back catalog, infusing these lonesome songs with a new luminosity and drive.
go to album
