Clear light on a slick palm as I mis-deal the day Slip the night from a shaved pack make a marked card play Call twilight hours down from a heaven home high above the highest bidder for the good Lord's throne In the wee hours I'll meet you down by Dun Ringill --- oh, and we'll watch the old gods play by Dun Ringill We'll wait in stone circles 'til the force comes through --- lines joint in faint discord and the stormwatch brews a concert of kings as the white sea snaps at the heels of a soft prayer whispered In the wee hours I'll meet you down by Dun Ringill --- oh, and I'll take you quickly by Dun Ringill.
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens I'll be here to do all things to comfort you. And though I've been away left you alone this way why don't you come awake and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill. And on a jumbo ride over seas grey, deep and wide I flew for heaven's sake and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels in his summer jamboree. All elements agree in sweet and stormy blend --- midwife to winds that send me home.
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
Orion, light your lights: Come guard the open spaces From the black horizon to the pillow where I lie. Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by. So come up singing above the cloudy cover Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep. I know you're watching as the old gent by the station Scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro. Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street, Their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea. Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat.
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops After sad parties: no-one to take them home To greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play For lost virginity a thousand miles away.
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
Black and viscous--bound to cure blue lethargy Sugar-plum petroleum for energy Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve Oh, please believe we want to be
In North Sea In North Sea oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday Hot-air balloon inflation soon will make you pay Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave But we'll be saved and what we crave
Is North Sea Is North Sea oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown Before we are all nuclear--the better way! Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending children on the cold sea swell --- not fishers of men --- gone to chase away the last herring: come empty home again. So come all you lovers of the good life on your supermarket run --- Set a sail of your own devising and be there when the Dutchman comes. Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through. So come all you lovers of the good life your children playing in the sun --- set a sympathetic flag a-flying and be there when the Dutchman comes. Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one as she slips in on the full tide and the harbour-master yells All hands vanished with the captain --- no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life Look around you, can you see? Staring ghostly in the mirror --- it's the Dutchman you will be ..floating slowly out to sea in a misty misery.
Hair stands high on the cat's back like a ridge of threatening hills. Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl --- their tails hanging low. And young children falter in their games at the altar of life's hide-and-seek between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers in grey raincoats peek.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain Blown through the eye of the hurricane Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold --- fine tapestry of silk I draw around me like a cloak and soundless glide a-drifting on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled --- brown and gold they fly in the warm mesh of sunlight sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain Blown through the eye of the hurricane Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
She wore a black tiara rare gems upon her fingers and she came from distant waters where northern lights explode to celebrate the dawning of the new wastes of winter gathering royal momentum on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling like petticoats in motion sighted on horizons for ten thousand years the lady of the ice sounds a deathly distant rumble to Titanic-breaking children lost in melting crystal tears.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove. And the turntable spins as the last waltz begins And the weather-man says something's on the move.
Capturing black pieces in a glass-fronted museum the white queen rolls on the chessboard of the dawn squeezing through the valleys pausing briefly in the corries the Ice-Mother mates and a new age is born.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove. And the turntable spins as the last waltz begins And the weather-man says something's on the move.
Driving all before her un-stoppable, un-straining her cold creaking mass follows reindeer down. Thin spreading fingers seek to embrace the sill-warm bundles that huddle on the doorsteps of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove. And the turntable spins as the last waltz begins And the weather-man says something's on the move.
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
Orion, light your lights: Come guard the open spaces From the black horizon to the pillow where I lie. Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by. So come up singing above the cloudy cover Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep. I know you're watching as the old gent by the station Scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro. Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street, Their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea. Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat.
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops After sad parties: no-one to take them home To greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play For lost virginity a thousand miles away.
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heavens' heady wine
Black and viscous--bound to cure blue lethargy Sugar-plum petroleum for energy Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve Oh, please believe we want to be
In North Sea In North Sea oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday Hot-air balloon inflation soon will make you pay Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave But we'll be saved and what we crave
Is North Sea Is North Sea oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown Before we are all nuclear--the better way! Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending children on the cold sea swell --- not fishers of men --- gone to chase away the last herring: come empty home again. So come all you lovers of the good life on your supermarket run --- Set a sail of your own devising and be there when the Dutchman comes. Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through. So come all you lovers of the good life your children playing in the sun --- set a sympathetic flag a-flying and be there when the Dutchman comes. Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one as she slips in on the full tide and the harbour-master yells All hands vanished with the captain --- no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life Look around you, can you see? Staring ghostly in the mirror --- it's the Dutchman you will be ..floating slowly out to sea in a misty misery.
You'll hear me calling in your sweet dream Can't hear your daddy's warning cry You're going back to be all the things you want to be While in sweet dreams you softly sigh
You hear my voice is calling To be mine again Live the rest of your life in a day
Get out and get what you can While your mummy's at home a-sleeping No time to understand 'Cause they lost what they thought they were keeping
No one can see us in your sweet dream Don't hear you leave to start the car All wrapped up tightly in the coat you borrowed from me, Your place of resting is not far
You hear my voice is calling To be mine again Live the rest of your life in a day
Get out and get what you can While your mummy's at home a-sleeping No time to understand 'Cause they lost what they thought they were keeping
Get out and get what you can While your mummy's at home a-sleeping No time to understand 'Cause they lost what they thought they were keeping
One day I walked the road And crossed a field to go By where the hounds ran hard. And on the master raced, Behind the hunters chased To where the path was barred. One fine young lady's horse refused the fence to clear. I unlocked the gate but she did wait until the pack had disappeared.
Crop handle carved in bone, Sat high upon a throne Of finest English leather. The queen of all the pack, This joker raised his hat And talked about the weather. All should be warned about this high born Hunting Girl. She took this simple man's downfall in hand, I raised the flag that she unfurled.
Boot leather flashing and spurnecks the size of my thumb. This highborn hunter had tastes as strange as they come.
Unbridled passion, I took the bit in my teeth. Her standing over, me on my knees underneath, underneath.
My lady, be discrete, I must get to my feet And go back to the farm. Whilst I appreciate You are no deviate, I might come to some harm. I'm not inclined to acts refined, if that's how it goes. Oh, high born Hunting Girl, I'm just a normal low born so and so.
