Lyrics to the songs on the Next Time CD
(Thanks to Lyzzie Stevens for suggesting this page)

Dig      (Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music)

Fourteen years, the back of you,
School days left behind.
Though life reached out before you
You were forced to join the line
To follow on your brothers,
Who were broken at the wheel
From digging doon the coorie mines
Or digging up the fields

                                                                        Chorus:  And it’s dig,
                                                                        Dig the bugger deep
                                                                        Dig until you’re spitting blood
                                                                        And then you’ll get your sleep
                                                                        Your fathers barely understand
                                                                        Your mothers only weep
                                                                        Dig, dig, dig, dig
                                                                        And dig the bugger deep

                                                                        They talked to you like heroes
                                                                        Of the glories it would bring
                                                                        So you took a chance at fortune
                                                                        And a shilling from the King.
                                                                        And they marched you to the trenches
                                                                        At the beat of their command
                                                                        With a rifle on your shoulder
                                                                        And a shovel in your hand

                                                                        Now the roar of battle’s over
                                                                        And a stench hangs in the air.
                                                                        You’re facing down a wall of dead
                                                                        And biting back despair.
                                                                        Your brother or your enemy
                                                                        Somehow it’s hard to tell
                                                                        Mark out a place to put them in
                                                                        And play that last farewell

                                                                        You carry home the things you saw
                                                                        And never talk about
                                                                        And still the bombs burst in the night
                                                                        And still they scream and shout.
                                                                        There never was a time to heal
                                                                        Or ever time to grieve
                                                                        And the nightmares they still haunt you
                                                                        And the memory just won’t leave.

---

What’s waiting for you    
(Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music)

Brush your weary dreams away,
Brace your spirit, face the day.
It’s for this tough old world you’re cast.
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past
Eighteen hands, as God allows,
You haul the cart, you draw the plough
From summerburn to winterblast.
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past.

Chorus
So fare thee well thou lowland towns.
Crack of dawn - we’re outward bound,
Pastures new and fresh green grass
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past.

You’re roped to harness, rack and rein,
Though silver ribbons grace your mane.
From smiddy steel to burnished brass,
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past.
They’ll take you where the oceans roar
streets of Cleveland, Baltimore,
Big city shine like polished glass.
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past

It’s toil and trouble, work and woe,
Will it every day be so?
Till peace and rest shall come at last,
What’s waiting for you’ll no go past.




All your troubles    
(Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music)
 
Come a winter in summer
With skies unsettled and grey
They’re breaking the borders
Of rivers the colour of clay
And the winds from the north,
Hitting home with a force,
Like hunters, they’re circling their prey
You’re losing your course
And the weather could wash you away

Did you pray for the dreamers?
Who never look back or delay
And the careless-of-others
Who never regret what they say
But you’re caught just the same
Like the floods on the plain
Your world’s spinning in disarray
Wishing boats on the river
Would carry your troubles away

Were you thinking of someone
Whose words had once held you sway?
With a long ago lover
Do you waltz  in a world faraway?
May the angel of dreams
keep you safe as you sleep
Bring you strength to face a new day
May he draw you in deep
And drive all your troubles away

Fishing for the Blues   
(Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music)

I will build an ark to fortune  -
and there will come a flood
Of milk and honey to a weary land
That satisfies my wanting -
like sugar to the blood,
Like holy water to a drowning man.

I’m sitting by the riverside watching as it flows
And there’s really next to nothing else I’d choose
But if money’s all that matters
and that’s the way it goes
I’d just as soon be fishing for the blues

We’re hostages to fortune
it haunts our little dreams
Like lovers, all our principles entwine,
We’re drawn to one another in a unifying stream -
By the poetry of numbers on a line.

 I’m waiting by the riverside watching as it flows
And there’s really next to nothing else I’d choose
But if money’s all that matters
and that’s the way it goes
I’d just as soon be fishing for the blues








Jack Jackson            
(Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music)

It was Telstar on the jukebox, sugar coated smiles
Brylcreem boys and all that noise, putting on the style
It’s Saturday, I’ve made my pay, the world is beating time
Jack Jackson’s on the radio and everything is fine

It’s schools and rules and swimming pools and bug eyed silver screen
At every western movie I swear there’s ever been
It’s sixty four and spring is over – roll on summer time
Jack Jackson’s on the radio and everything is fine

I’ve worked away the morning
The afternoon’s all mine
I’ll catch the next bus up to town
My head held high and my pockets lined
Don’t worry bout me mama
I’ll be back by suppertime
Jack Jackson’s on the radio and everything is fine

There’s talk of scores and foreign wars and empires overseas
Some politician's scandal life don’t mean much to me
As long as it’s a Saturday, the sun is bound to shine
Jack Jackson’s on the radio and everything is fine

Now all you baby boomers –try singing that last line
Jack Jackson’s on the radio and everything is fine

Carrion Craw   
(Tom Clelland – Stumblefree Music )

I merched on this road my faithers hae trod
As shepherds and fermers and a’.
I came to this place and I prayed to my God
Tae bring me back hame frae Harlaw.

And you wi’ the pack of the Lord of the Isles
Like wolves, that would worry and claw.
You swept frae the north tae raid and tae spyle
Till you met the brave men at Harlaw.

Chorus
Six hundred of mine and a thousand of thine
Lie deid on the fields this daw
And should we be asked the way by some quine
Say “Follow the carrion craw”.

When Mar raised the guard and the battle drew near,
I faithfully heeded the ca’.
I shairpened an axe and I fangled a spear
And I cairried them here tae Harlaw.

They’ll sing of Sir James who chairged ye the first
Like a bellwether breakin the snaw.
May the bastert that killed him forever be cursed
Tae wander the muirs on Harlaw.

And didnae we fecht sae bauldly and fine?
And didnae we fecht sae braw? 
We focht tae the last and oor corpies entwined
And oor blood’s drained awa on Harlaw.

Remind me tae a my faimily and freens.
Think on me when summer winds blaw.
Remember the airmy that kept Aberdeen
And the brave men who stood at Harlaw.