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Songs and Lyrics
Here are some lyrics from songs I have written over the past few years. I'll add commentary or explanation for some of them as time goes on.
They range over many different subjects - all the way from the philosophical insights afforded by a pigeon, or the restorative properties of Our Other National Drink, to fury over the Iraq conflict and other lunacies of our time
Give Him Time
Home Again
The Irn-Bru Song
At The Crossroads
Hear The Drum
The Pedestrian Pigeon
Sure To Come Down
When
Coming Home
Give Him Time
There's a boy out playing on a street
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
Having too much fun to come inside and eat
Give him time, God willing give him time
The boy has dreams he doesn't like to tell
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
He'll be a doctor, make the sick folk well
Give him time, God willing give him time
Came the missiles, came the aeroplanes
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
And hidden hands unleashed a fiery rain
Give him time, God willing give him time
The boy is lyin on a hospital bed
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
Doctor says that he'd be better dead
Give him time, God willing give him time
Across the world he's on the TV screens
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
Folk send him gifts and money to wipe their conscience clean
Give him time, God willing give him time
The boy has toys and games he just can't wait to play
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
It's so much harder since we burned his arms away
Give him time, God willing give him time
So when the call for war to end a tyrant's reign
Could be yours, God help us, could be mine
Just ask who wins and loses, and what they stand to gain
Give him time, God willing give him time
Give him time, God willing give him time
Home Again
Open-toed sandals and it's pourin wi rain
I reach for my jacket as I get off the plane
It's great to be back after two weeks in Spain
It's great to be back home in Glasgow again
Home again, home again, Jiggety-jig
Paris is elegant, London is big
Nae Eiffel Tower
Nae Millennium Dome
Then again, no place but Glasgow is home
Spring time in Glasgow and it's cold as you please
Snow on the ground and it's startin to freeze
No a flower to be seen, and it's zero degrees
April in Glasgow, no a leaf on the trees
Home again, home again, joggety-jog
Sydney has sunshine and Tokyo smog
Nae Bondi Beach here
But then again
The wee Clockwork Orange is our shinkansen
The wee guy beside me is just talkin shite
He's full of the bevvy and lookin tae fight
But I'm steamin too, so I very well might
That's café society in Glasgow by night
Home again, home again, Jiggety-jig
Drunk as a monkey then sick as a pig
Home again, Home again
Joggety-jog
A big greasy breakfast then hair of the dog
Edinburgh's East, and Glasgow is West
Is Edinburgh better? Or is Glasgow best?
If ever I'm asked how to tell them apart
I say: One has a Castle, the other a heart
Home again home again, jiggety-jig
For your Tattoo and Castle, I don't care a fig
You can keep yer auld Festival
- I don't gie a toss;
I'll take salt and vinegar, no salt and sauce.
I was brought up in Springburn, now most of it's gone
The place where I live now will never be home
You can never forget, no, nor ever disown
For Glasgow is bred in your blood and your bone
Home again, home, you can never go hame
The place you remember is never the same
Treasure the high points
Remember the low
And carry it with you wherever you go
Home again, home again, Jiggety-jig
Paris is elegant, London is big
Nae Eiffel Tower
Nae Millennium Dome
Then again, no place but Glasgow is home
The Irn-Bru Song
I – R – N, B – R – U
From East Kilbride to Timbuktu
The drink for me and the drink for you
We drink Irn-Bru
CHORUS
I don’t like drinking milk or Coke
And ginger beer just makes me choke
And orange juice gives me the boak
And I’m not that fond of water
In my fight with dehydration,
Just one liquid’s my salvation
It’s the pride of the Scottish Nation
I drink Irn_Bru
If yer heid’s aboot tae burst
If a hangover has you cursed
There’s one thing you should do first
Drink tons of Irn-Bru
Your powers of speech you will regain
No longer clutch your skull in pain
You’ll join the Human race again
You even might want breakfast
All the truth we are denied
They won’t say just what goes inside
But some details I can confide
Just between you and me
There’s water and sugar, so there is
And carbon dioxide for the fizz
And a wee spot of caffeine does the biz
To make you bright and perky
And additives there too you know
There’s Sunset Yellow E one-one-oh
E one-two-four, that’s Red Ponceau
And Sodium Benzoate
There’s ammonium ferric citrate in there
Point oh-oh two percent’s the share
Somehow I don’t really care
It isny made fae girders
For Mr Barr, let’s give a cheer
With Walker’s whisky and McEwan’s Beer
Barr’s Irn-Bru’s a worthy peer
Known the whole world over
The whole wide world loves Irn-Bru
The Inuit and Beduin too
In Russian, Swahili and Urdu
Cry “We love Irn-Bru”!
At The Crossroads
Chorus
At the crossroads, at the crossroads.
Where every path must end.
At the crossroads, at the crossroads
I’ll see you there my friend.
In the city of life, there are many busy streets
But there’s a crossroads where everybody meets
Whether you walk, or whether you run,
We’ll gather at the crossroads at the setting of the sun.
Chorus
You can lie in your teeth, steal the shirts from their backs
And pile your money to the sky in empty shining stacks
You’ll leave all your toys, leave them all behind
When you come to the place where all the roads combine
Chorus
If life were a thing that money could buy
The poor could not live and the rich would not die
Count the friends around you, and love that you have known
And on the road be comforted that you are not alone
Chorus
We’ll meet at the crossroads, the humble and the grand.
To raise a glass in friendship and grasp a friendly hand
Then shoulder up our burdens, lighter than before
For the crossroads is the place where every road begins once more
Hear The Drum
Hear the drum, hear the band, we are marching together.
Each step’s like a beat of the same mighty heart.
Though we hold up our heads, we don’t see where we’re going
But we’ll trust in our comrades and all play our part.
Were you only a boy when they called you together
And you marched to the pipes from the land you had known
You took up the targe, and the dirk and the claymore
To fight for the King and win back a throne.
From Derby you turned home again in disorder
You marched like the Devil was hunting behind
Will you ever know how you escaped from the slaughter
To wither in France like the leaf on the vine.?
You’re there in the mud with the bodies around you
Your ears singing loud from the crash of the shells
Can you still hear the bands as you marched off so proudly
As they waved you goodbye and condemned you to hell
At night in the trenches, do you think of your children
It’s their faces you see in the ghost-light of flares
If ever you’re home, you’ll never tell them
Of the horrors you knew in the depths of despair.
It’s a fine summer’s day and you’re all out together
Your wife and yourself and your children and friends
You march to the flutes, and listen to the speeches
Of tradition and history and fight without end
But at times when you stand with a workmate beside you
Or speak to your neighbour as you come through your door.
You just can’t remember why they say that you’re different
And you can’t quite remember what you’re marching for.
It’s fine to belong and grand to go marching
Feel the earth shake and shiver with each step that we take
But by marching in step, a bridge may be shattered
And it’s hard to build up , but easy to break
And maybe today, or maybe tomorrow,
It’ll come all the sooner if we give it a chance
The bands will all learn a different metre
And lead us all off in the steps of the dance…
The Pedestrian Pigeon
I was rushing through the rush hour
I was tense and I was stressed
Hunched behind the steering wheel
I wasn't at my best
Trying to make it through the lights
Before they changed to red
But I was unsuccessful
So I sat and fumed instead
Yes I sat and fumed instead
I cursed my luck and timing
I said “Damn!” and I said “Hell!”
I also said some other things
I’m too ashamed to tell
I railed against my misery
And all my woes and care
I knew I would be late again
I tore out all my hair (see?)
I tore out all my hair
Then fluttering from the firmament
Came a doo from out the sky
Just a common-or-garden flying rat
Of genus Columbidae
It landed there before my car
An ordinary wee pigeon.
Your usual scruffy Glasgow kind
Nae white, nor blue, nor rid yin.
Nae white, nor blue, nor rid yin.
It strolled across the street on foot
And looked me in the eye
As if tae say “See, look at me!”
“I walk, yet I can fly!
Ma airms are weary flappin’
An ah’m walking cross the street,
So I may look about me
And remember Life is sweet”
Yes, remember Life is sweet
As the pigeon safely reached the kerb,
The light changed back to green
I was thinking as I drove away
I thought on what I’d seen
That pedestrian pigeon changed my ways
And every word is true
Now you know just why I
Take it easy like ah doo.
Take it easy like ah doo
Sure To Come Down
In the Year of Our Lord Seventeen Eighty-Five,
Vincenzo Lunardi in Scotland arrived,
Auld Reekie was buzzin’ like bees in a hive
And takin’ side wagers how long he’d survive
Then wi’ slackenin’ jaws and widenin’ eyes,
They stood there dumfoonert and watched him arise
He boldly the order of Nature defies
And gallantly sails away into the skies
CHORUS
Signor Lunardi set aff from the toon
Into the air in his silken balloon
He’s traivelled the hail o’ the countryside roon
Whatever goes upward is sure tae come doon
In the High Kirk at Glasgow, the balloon was displayed
A charge of one shilling per capita paid
And plans for his next great excursion were laid
When word came to say that it would be delayed
The College at Glasgow had gardens so fair
They didny want hoi-polloi trampling in there
So for his next adventure up into the air
He left from St Andrew’s Church down in the Square
On a trip out from Glasgow, the balloon went astray
And landed near Campsie, out Lennoxtown way
An old man was watching and was heard to say
“I’ve never seen sic-like a thing as the day!”
“I’ve seen bold Hielan' reivers wha cam in a band
And Mar’s Year when war gripped us all in its hand
And I’ve seen thae canal ships sail thro’ the dry land
D’ye no think the end of the world is at hand?”
From Embra, Vincenzo set off to the North
Aiming for Fife away over the Forth.
And although he was praying for all he was worth
He came down wi’ a splash in the cold briny Firth
He was rescued to safety by a boat standing by
And when he was landed, and safe and was dry
He reflected upon his desire to fly
And decided he had no desire to die
But you know in the end, we all end up the same
No matter the fortune, no matter the fame
Covered in glory, or mired in shame
It’s rare that the future remembers your name
Some names with laurels, history adorns
One it will worship, another it spurns
To villains, or heroes, or ciphers it turns
Known only as footnotes to scholars of Burns
They borrowed his name for a hat and a gown
But in time he surrendered his hard-won renown
And he learned that the mightiest have to step down
Every knave, every general, hero or clown
The story’s concluded, and the moral made plain
You may rise to the heights and celebrity gain
But tethered to Earth by Gravity’s chain
Whatever goes upwards must come down again
When
When you’re asleep, you look like an angel
When you’re asleep and deep in your dreams
When you’re asleep,, I stand back and wonder
When they talk about heaven, is this what they mean?
When you awake, the long night is over
When you awake the day starts to dawn
When you awake, you bring out the sunrise
The clouds start to scatter and life can go on
Now is the time to see what you’re holding
Don’t wait till tomorrow is over and done
Each minute that passes will never return and
Your life’s what you make it, you only get one.
When you are grown, you’ll be a princess,
When you are gown you’ll be a fine man
When you are grown, and wise as I wish you
I’ll be as proud of you as anyone can
When I’m asleep, please wish me an angel
When I’m asleep, remember to dream
When I’m asleep, take time to remember
When they talk about heaven, this is what they mean?
A Year Has Gone By
In an orderly row, the cars stand in line
We're waiting the ferry - I hope it's on time
I think I should call you, and I pick up the phone
And then I remember why you won't be home
So I'm writing these lines to you
while it's still fresh in my mind
I can't believe that a year has gone by
The days pass like minutes and seasons, they fly
And so much has happened though not much has changed
After all
We're all much as you left us, but Dad's not been well
We hope he'll pull through, though you never can tell
He won't turn the calendar over to show
The day that he marked, I thought you should know
That he misses you more than
You'd ever think could be true
They've changed since you saw them, they're learning to fly
And they want to be up there, riding the sky
But a kite in the wind, needs someone on the ground
Keeping the line tight, and them safe and sound
So with hearts in our mouths
we watch and we hope they won't fall
I can't believe that a year has gone by
The days pass like minutes and seasons, they fly
And so much has happened though not much has changed
After all
I suppose that you stood and you felt your heart break
As we stumbled and fell and made our mistakes
How did you hold all those tears left unshed?
Too many words spoken,so much left unsaid,
But maybe I learned, just in time
Not to hide love away.
We've boarded the ferry now, I'll put down my pen
I'll tell you all this when I see you again
The sky is on fire as this ship's headed west,
The harbour's in sight now, and there I can rest
But there's still stormy water
Between here and there, so I'll bide my time
I can't believe that a year has gone by
The days pass like minutes and seasons, they fly
And so much has happened though not much has changed
After all
COMING HOME
Put a light in the window
Your brother’s coming home
Set a meal on the table
Your brother’s coming home
He’ll be tired and weary
After all these years alone
He’s coming home, your brother’s coming home
Take the chain from the door,
Your sister’s coming home
Open wide your arms
Your sister’s coming home
Don’t leave her standing there
After all the pain she’s known
She’s coming home, your sister’s coming home
CHORUS
Coming home to a place they’ve never been
Coming home to a land they’ve never seen
Coming home to a family they have never known
A’ Jock Tamson’s bairns
Are coming home
He’s been angry and afraid
Your father’s coming home
He’s been hounded and betrayed
Your father’s coming home
And with every act of kindness
A seed of hope is sown
He’s coming home. Your father’s coming home
CHORUS
Bring her in from the cold
Your mother’s coming home
Sit her down by the fire
Your mother’s coming home
Make her warm, make her welcome
Before the chance is gone
She’s coming home, your mother’s coming home
CHORUS
From Iraq and Zimbabwe,
Your family’s coming home
And from Turkey and Somalia
Your family’s coming home
Seeking rest and refuge
They have never known
They’re coming home, Your family’s coming home
CHORUS
Coming Home
My song "Coming Home" has been recorded professionally by Ian Bruce as "Comin Hame", featuring on his album "Demon's Dance". You can listen to Ian's version at: Ian Bruce's Site. There's a review of Ian's CD "Demon's Dance" Here.... The review says (ahem) very nice things about my song (blush). It's also been arranged in a four-part version for Edinburgh choir Protest In Harmony, and is sung by the Eurydice choir. "Coming Home" is mentioned here Tom Shields' Column in the Sunday Herald, and also in "Weegies vs Edinbuggers 2" by Ian Black.
From Merr Weegies vs Edinbuggers
By
Ian Black
Black & White Publishing 2005
"At a concert supported by the Scottish Refugee Council in Partick Burgh Halls in Glasgow, there was a trio of Kurds from Iraq playing onstage, making joyful music, so joyful in fact that a few, and then a few more, and after a minute every Kurd in the hall, about twenty men, women and kids, were up dancing, giving it laldy big time. They were joined by some the Glasgow-born presentm, and they danced in a big circle in front of the stage. The guy in the seat next to me leaned over smiling and said "These f*ckers are going to fit right in, aren't they?"
His mate said "Whit's the Kurdish for 'Gaun yersel, big man?' and then just shouted it in Glaswegian anyway. For those unversed in Weegie-speak this is a form of very serious approbation and encouragement. One of the Glasgow-borns involved in the concert was Steven Clark, who allowed me to use his song "Home Again", with its deathless lines about the difference between Edinburgh and Glasgow: "One has a castle, the other a heart" in the first Weegies vs Edinbuggers.
He wrote a song to welcome our New Glaswqegians and it was sung as a finale for the concert by everyone, inlcuding our New Glaswegians. I could hardly sing it for the lump in my throat. The tune is Steven's own."
You can mail me at: stevenclarksongs@yahoo.co.uk
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