LYRICS "WHISKEY WITH ANGELS"



1. We Can Write England All Over Again

The night has turned your compass into dust,
you are hanging like a tightrope in the rain
and now that London told you all its lies,
you wonder if there is future in this place.

But girl if you’re tired don’t go away
we can write England all over again
and when they parade with their guns and their blades
we can write England all over again.

They say that stubborn men hold on to their flags
when life and faith have ceased to be aligned.
But what’s the use of living in a lie
when all you got are spiders in your mind.

 

But girl if you’re tired don’t go away
we can write England all over again
and when they parade with their guns and their blades
we can write England all over again.

 

Bridge (we can write England all over again)
 

Take me to a land in Innisfree
where everyone is listening to the band,
where faces merge in song and poetry
and plenitude is all that we demand.

 

2. An Angel Sleeps In Your Mirror

An angel sleeps in your mirror
It wants to wake up but you won’t let it sing,
you’re too busy now narrating the end of the world
and you tell me I am a jerk for wearing a smile.
Oh leave me here with my fantasy
I still believe in the nights of old Paris
where angels might win.

You came to me covered in barnacles
I tried to get in but the tide was out
And now it seems you blame my ponderous claim
that love is a game which you will never command.
Leave me here in my Leningrad
It’s better than your fishcake heart, I’ve started to hate
your storm in a dress.

An angel weeps in your mirror,
it wants to elope your dawn of steel
but you won’t give in, your season of rain
and the irony won’t help, nor your fling with Class A’s.
Leave me here in my Innisfree,
I need to halt your darkened wheels, they lost their appeal
when you bought the TV.

An angel lies in your mirror
It wants to wake up but your hide’s too thick
but now you say the angel is dead
and its all in your head, as you summon the end.
Leave me here with my poetry
I will find the bridge to someone else’s dream,
I will try and make them believe.

3. Almost Perfect Face

Forgive me pretty lady but I said your name too soon,
there were roosters on my steeple when you danced across the room,
I observed the lads beside you and I thought I could compete
But when you moved right to me and I felt tremors in my feet,
I guess I am a gypsy and I do what my blood says
If you have an antidote for beauty please deliver it today
before I drown inside the pit of your almost perfect face.

There were many implications when you wore my ragged coat
You claimed I was captain when in truth I was the boat.
I sail inside your body like a coked-up butterfly
and when the dream was over I had band aids on my eyes.
I guess I am a novice when it comes to love’s hotel
I thought you wanted fire when in truth you wanted hell,
I was blinded by your embrace and your almost perfect face.

BRIDGE

Love is a window where your branches stretch,
there are mirrors in the moon that show me what I crave,
the thread, a bridge, a touch of your almost perfect face,


Forgive me pretty lady, I am still to learn of love
I thought I’d found it in a movie but it didn’t match my heart,
all my friends they told me, it’s a kingdom in the sky
but when I looked above me I just saw missiles flying by
I guess you need a poem to shape its surf crest
all the ones who know are still going for the chase,
of the mirage, of the conceit of your almost perfect face.

BRIDGE

Child of the night, child of the back streets, I need to write you down.

4. Ibrahim Gokcek

Ibrahim, I hear you scream in the quietude of the night,

they said you played the bombing game

when all you had was your guitar.

And they took your holy weapon

So you weaponised your gut

and now you hold your very death

with your finger tips to protest against their lies.

 

Ibrahim, there is a war within, we face cyclops and their knives

and we are sick and tired of the troglodytes

who keep stamping on our time.

When freedom was a passing train

which forgot to stop for us

and now you hold your very death

like a daffodil to lighten up our minds.

 

I know we will find you in our bones

and in the hunger of our souls.

 

The very walls of scorching steel,

would not defer your battle cry,

and the hunger your soul would feel

would lighten up our minds.

 

Ibrahim I hear you scream in the quietude of the night,

they said you played the bombing game

when all you had was your guitar.

And they took your holy weapon

So you weaponised your gut

and now you hold your very death

with your finger tips to protest against their lies.

 

5. Overstay your welcome

 

In love, how do you know when you’ve overstayed your welcome
or if they want somebody knew, a messenger of smoke with their pockets full of tales
will they tell you with your soup, at any given time in any given day
or wait for spells of rain to drown the birds of love, the birds you thought you knew.

If you led me into this rendevouz, please remind what a man should do.

Should you look for sunken eyes or letters to their friends,
what if they wanted time and you pressed them for a sign, a symbol of their faith.
Should you stay there with the light or blow the fuse and run
what if the days go by and you wish you would return to the hole you had become.

 

If you see me down this road again, please remember I am not the only one to blame.


And the challengers we see should we treat them as our friends, or mute the light they give before they can remain  and illuminate our beds,
Is it just a race? Or a relay team of hearts?
When all the stars you knew are begging for a room in the Grand hotel of Art.

If you wonder what the hell went wrong.
please remember even Rome was meant to fall.

 

6. Nosediving into the night

 

Girl you are right I am nose diving, nose diving into the night
I abandoned my pistols in Croydon, I felt I was too old for the fight.
The last time I sang I summoned the muse but she was busy watching a soap on TV
my answer was smoking and drinking until the feeling made its way back to me
Oh the preacher was pissed, he said Christ would desist to lead me anywhere near the light,
I said I’m so so sorry padre, I’m nose-diving into the night.

The doctor said I was shattered, he claimed forty was the time to collapse
But sofas were not of my liking and I was fond of the wounds of the heart
I went to Texas and Spain, travelled to Chile and France just to get a taste of the bars
And then in the back streets London I found what I knew was my art,
And my lovers they claimed, I was broken and lame, I was lost to the caves of my mind,
But I was convinced about something,  nose-diving into the night.

 

Oh what I lost I know can find
I am not looking for another distant sky
All that I want, all I can decide, is nose-diving, nose-diving into the night.

Sometimes the bottle will beat me when I am searching for ribbons and smiles, 
searching for the nozzle of longing and a walk in the outskirts of time,
And though the president says we all have to work in a factory out there in Hull,
I think he is bent on colliding with the rights of any civilised man
And the notary was mad, he said mortgage and tax would make me a true English man,  I said keep your title  mister, I’m still nose-diving into the night.

Oh what I lost I know can find
I am not looking for another distant sky
All that I want, all I can decide, is nose-diving, nose-diving into the night.

7. Margaret Burns

O Margaret Burns
I started a war with your friends
and all ‘cos I happened to say
I didn’t agree with the money they spend 
on bangles and furs
and on rye seeded bread
You see I don’ get when they claim
they like it the socialist way
But then they’re burning their fortunes away

O Margaret Burn these times are insane
We are facing the crest of monstrous waves that are leading the world back to dark and poisonous caves.

Put the mortgage away
Let’s meet in republican Spain
Where poets are lovers again
and painters they paint for the beauty of paint

And not the millions they’ll make
with their flare and their fame
O please wont you help me reclaim
that the rich are the reason the poor won’t be saved, that the poor won’t be saved.

O Margaret Burn these times are insane
We are facing the crest of monstrous waves that are leading the world back to dark and poisonous  caves.

 

I know you wont change even if they give you money and fame

Margaret Burns they are tearing the beauty away
But I don’t care what they say.
We will battle the darkness away, till the end of our days,
‘till the end of our days.

 

8. When I Was A Bird

When I was a bird I used to swoop low
to peck in the crumbs of your coffee-pot soul.
When I was a bird I thought it was wise,
to try and dissolve the smog in your eyes.

But then you took me in and I fell into your mind
it was deep as the well where young lover’s die, When I was bird.

When I was a bird, in a little blue box
I kept the ruins of my past for my poems and songs.
When I was a bird I flew to Madrid
to hide in the bars from my family’s sins.

Then truth came to the door, with its two ugly brown paws
it said fool you can’t hide from the kraken inside, When I was a bird.

(Bridge) When I was a bird I was seduced by the stars that I myself put in the sky.

When I was a bird, I liked my disguise,
I hid in a bin made by your lies.
When I was a bird my beak was shaded and grey
I failed to connect with the roots of my pain.

Then truth came to the door, with its two ugly brown paws
it said fool you can’t hide from the kraken inside, When I was a bird.

When I was a bird.

 

9. Lady Fame

Forgive me lady fame, I am after you again and I am wasting time.
This dude came with a plan, he said we’d make it in Japan, then he stole my lines,
your laurels and your plastic faith are weapons for the western trade,
but now it seems like such a shame, not to pine for your acclaim, Oh lady fame.

 

I met a singer in the street, she had snow-flakes on her feet, she lifted minds,
in the morning when she woke, she searched ashtrays for a smoke and then she sighed,
“what else can we do or say? Do you need us all to betray, the canon and the flame,
for the warmth of your embrace?” Oh Lady fame.


Forgive me lady fame I am after you again and I’ve lost my mind,
I sold trickles of my pain to the idle and the stale, in the underground.
Would you please at least buy me a spade with all the money that you made,
trading beauty for a name, selling band aids to the lame, Oh lady fame.

10. Poetry Mondays

Tell me, tell me you feel it too, the spirit of the Monday rendezvous,
A singer shows her notebook to the moon, whilst poets summon muses and buffoons.
I like the theatre in your tongue, sister show me how it’s done, in this Monday carnival.

Show me, show me this is how you feel, the spirit of the Monday vaudeville,
A dancer throws her shackles to the air, whilst writers write of heaven and despair.
I want the ladders in your mind to climb into the London night, poets know what we will find.

The steeple says the fruit is ripe and all we need is some more wine to let the duende sing and the spirit rise.

Tell me, tell me this is for real, the spirt of the Monday gathering,
The hunter sees the psyche of its prey as rent and bills just seem to fly away.
I like the theatre in your tongue, sister show me how it’s done, in this Monday carnival.

 

Give me, give me one chance, I want to look inside and want to see your spark.

 

11. Poetically Resist

Push me into my sins
I am tired of this self-control
My dogs are apathetic and thin
So please don’t meditate on my window
I need to find a way to dissolve
The Western Freudian pill
Or keep my blue and lilac dream
To stay here and poetically resist

There are ruins in my kingdom
All marked with your maiden name
And the ribbons in the balconies
Are marked with the weird things you said
I need to find a way to
To revive my early dream of you
Or if reality must win
can we decide to/ poetically resist.

Bridge

I need to find a way
To build the wall again
Coz if reality must win
Can I at least poetically resist

The corners of my streets
are full with hollow banking dens
with their evil ways and their petty tricks
Don’t suit the way I see the world
I need to find a way
to make it up to Malcom X
and if the cynic lords must win
can we at least poetically resist

  • Twitter Basic Black
  • Facebook Basic Black
  • SoundCloud Basic Black

© 2015 Design and illustrations by Laura Rouzet  www.l-h-a.com   laura@l-h-a.com