From early days of infancy, through trembling years
of youth, long murky middle-age and final hours
long in the tooth, he is the hundred names of terror ---
creature you love the least. Picture his name before
you and exorcise the beast.

He roved up and down through history --- spectre
with tales to tell. In the darkness when the
campfire's dead --- to each his private hell. If you look

I see a dark sail on the horizon set under a black
cloud that hides the sun.

Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Get up to the roundhouse on the cliff-top standing.
Take women and children and bed them down.

Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Bless with a hard heart those who surround me.

We travellers on the endless wastes in single orbits,
gliding cold-eyed march towards the dawn behind
hard-weather hoods a-hiding.
Meeting as the tall ships do, passing in the channel
afraid to chance a gentle touch ---
afraid to make the clasp.

In high-rise city canyons dwells the discontent of ages.
On ring roads, nose to bumper crawl
commuters in their cages. Cryptic signals flash

In the half-tone light of a young morning
she sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
to kiss the Pussy Willow.

In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
in a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believing
for her white knight to appear.

Pusy Willow --- down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.

Fallen on hard times --- but it feels good to know
that milk and honey's just around the bend.
Running on bad lines --- we'd better run as we go,
Tear up, tear up the overdraft again.

Oh, dear Prime Minister --- it's all such a mess.
Go right ahead and pull the rotten tooth.
Oh, Mr. President --- you've been put to the test.
Come clean, for once, and hit us with the truth.

I sit by the cutting on the Beaconsfield line.
He's watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
He's still watching me watching you watching the
trains go by.

And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
and pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.

Shout if you will, but that just won't do.
I, for one, would rather follow softer options.
I'll take the easy line; another sip of wine,
and if I ignore the face you wore it's just a way of
mine to keep from flying colours.

Don't lay your bait while the whole world waits
around to see me shoot you down --- It's all so second-rate.
When we can last for days on a loving night;

Take you away for my magic ship.
I have two hundred deisel horses thundering loud.
Sea birds call your name and the mountain's on fire
as the summer lightening cuts the sky like a hot wire.
And you ride on the swell and your heart is alive,
think I'll make you my seal driver.

I'm no great looker, I'm no fast shakes.
I'll give you a steady push on a six knot simmering
high tide.

Would you join a slow marching band
And take pleasure in your leaving
as the ferry sails and tears are dried
and cows come home at evening.

Could you get behind a slow marching band
And join together in the passing
of all we shared through yesterdays
in sorrows neverlasting.

Take a hand and take a bow.
You played for me; that's all for now, oh, and never

Along the coast road, by the headland
the early lights of winter glow.
I'll pour a cup to you my darling.
Raise it up --- say Cheerio.