
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.
(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. |