Tuesday, April 3, 2007

a fabulous song from the spike pedestal songbook, co-written with my smashing Kiwi chum, Lord Ric of Nye

Here’s another grey and empty day

Another day to swear at fate

Looking back's an easy thing to do

But I can't look forward without you

So I sit alone in this blue room

Where shadows fall in winter shades of gloom

Why did I think you'd always stay

When all we had together were small town days


Small town days

Small town ways

I hang on to a broken dream

Mining hope in empty seams

Small town days

Funny seeing you today
Innocence all washed away
You tell me that it’s grim up north
No surprises there for what it’s worth
Can’t you take me to some other place
Take me where the air is rare
I would follow anywhere
You and me together in these small town days

Small town days
Small town ways
Remember how we walked for miles
Smoking cigarettes, what style
Small town days

Long time since you’ve been around
A pit stack landscape still but no heavy heavy sound
Of dead end days and factory roar
Gates are welded shut, last shift walked out the door
Still I think back to one halcyon day
When all our working hours were bathed in summer haze
I recall those words I heard you say
That you would rather die than live in small town days

Small town days
Small town ways
I know that you remember them
They’re not so easy to forget
Small town days

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