1. |
Commercial Street
03:53
|
|||
|
Little seed inside a birdie
Flying high above the trees
Travelled far from home and family
Over mountains over seas
Little spikes that cling to clothing
Tiny teeth and shiny claws
Lips that suck and zips that fasten
Carry me through unknown doors
I have no money for a bottle
Cigarettes or food to eat
I move swiftly on the cold wind
Blowing down Commercial Street
At the gates we stood in wonder
Watched the big boats sail away
Couldn’t think of one good reason
They’d be coming back one day
Hear the sound of Crazy Cavan
Rattle windows on Stow Hill
Now the sea cracks open reaching
For the light and ever will
Is the Ship and Pilot open?
Will the wise and wicked meet
In the houses of the willing
Rise from rubbish in the street
From the worthless depths of anger
The sediment of loss and doubt
Heavy drops of rain are falling
All the seeds begin to sprout
|
||||
2. |
The Last Murenger
05:24
|
|||
|
We don’t get marauders around here anymore
This wall’s as useless as the ditch we had before
It’s just peasant families who want to relocate
He don’t even bother to lock the gate anymore
He used to like the work
He gets free room and board
But it’s taken it’s toll
And he hates the lord
He’s not stealing, he’s not skimming
Just some wealth distribution, alms giving
This landlord has taken enough already
And he can account for every last penny
And all the yeomen and burgheresses
Can kisse thyne olde breech
To him they all just like
The relics of the saints on the street
Leave the gates wide open
Tear down these walls
Let this counting house stand
For centuries more
He’s gonna let out all the crooks from the Westgate cells
Throw open the Eastgate, let them run riot through Baneswell
This town needs to grow into a city that can breathe
He’s taking down this wall piece by piece
He just wants open borders
And freedom of movement
No more taxing poor people
And getting called a quaint
These people have courage
And this system stinks
It’s down to the last murenger
He’s gonna let them all in
Let this counting house stand
For centuries more
Let there be music and laughter
An ever open door
And even if the music is forced to stop one day
This house will still keep a welcome for good company and ale
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
How dark is the night, how cold is the rain?
I reach out to touch your face
Even in my dreams it don’t feel right
How bright are the stars, inside my head tonight?
On my bedroom wall I had a map of the night sky
And I memorised every twinkling dot
Now, it’s all so strange to me
Every missing piece residual pain
How can there be peace now in this situation?
How much does it cost, how much is it worth?
Sometimes I wonder about this place
We wander the street from dark into the light
Cool heads prevail, I’m lost out on the trail
How can I guide us back under a sky so black?
I take my hammer and I work with stone
To reveal the features of a face
It’s someone I don’t know so I start again
How dark is the night, how cold is the rain?
How bright are the stars, inside my head tonight?
How dark is the night, how cold is the rain?
|
||||
4. |
Ruby
03:28
|
|||
|
Ruby’s got the speeds and the feeds all set
Putting metal on metal, keeps it cold and wet
Cuts like a dream, finish like glass
She’s getting it done right she’s getting it done fast
The factory’s cold and she’s watching the clock
But it’s Friday afternoon and they’ve got job and knock
Her quota’s beat and she’ll be home by 4
Getting ready for the dance and out of that door
To the baths up Stow Hill
They boarded over for dancing
The American serviceman he’ll
Show her Jitterbug, Jive and Swing
Piss taking and tea, sharing news from the front
Thaw ‘round the salamander eating their lunch
Here comes the foreman, he’s such a dope
But today he’s got our little brown envelopes
Men from the ministry doubted her skills
She sent them packing back to Woolwich Arsenal
She punched the clock out, the bell explodes
And she’s ready to run out on Corpa’ Road
|
||||
5. |
Mrs Hammer’s Dream
04:41
|
|||
|
Tommy Jones in his sailor’s suit was only 5 years old
He wore a whistle around his neck but no-one heard it blow
Some said the boy was kidnapped a travellers site was ransacked
He walked off into the darkness but never found his fathers arms
She dreamt of Tommy Jones, high on a hillside all alone
She dreamt of Tommy Jones
A gardener’s wife from Brecon unknown to the family
Heard stories of the missing child, she said she saw him in her dreams
Her husband borrowed a pony & trap and they set off for the beacons
They’d never climbed those hills before, they didn’t know what they would find
Soldiers, farmers and volunteers walked the hills but failed
To find the boy or claim the reward put out by the Daily Mail
Mr Hammer found the spot exactly where she said
High on a ridge by Pen y Fan his tiny body lay dead
|
||||
6. |
Tenby Boatman
03:54
|
|||
|
Local men would hire themselves to the gentry for the season
Punt their way across Tenby Bay on long blue summer days
Sugar money old and sweet from trade with the Caribbean
Trickles down to a fishing town gentle months of leisure
I love the boy in the water
He’s just a head bobbing about, a harbour kid out swimming
To the diving board at Goskar Rock around St Catherine’s Island
Pull your straw hats on we’ll take a ride by the little fortress of fishes
The long ‘un takes you where you want, he knows the currents
At the end of a narrow moonlit street under the bright horizon
Leave your prayers in a lobster pot in the chapel of St Julian
Someone washed up on the beach by the arches of the harbour
Let’s take a peep, that’s where they keep the bodies of the drowned
Father come and rescue me pull me from the deep
Chilled to the bone all alone drifting now to sleep
My sister she swam back to shore over the waves she brought you
A hot cup of tea milk and two lumps, remember the boy in the water
|
||||
7. |
Honest Ken
04:38
|
|||
|
Ken standing by Astoria’s doors
Puffs cigs in his sheepskin
Eyes Dock Street in thick Foster Grants
Shouts his lad, “Clean the Capri!”
He’s watching the wrecking crew
Moving in across the street
They’re knocking down the Octopus Bridge
His lot’s covered in a thick film
Garage back to front, full
Everything’s negotiable
Offers, great deals today
Cash, shake, keys
Drive away
Looks right towards his lodge hall
Thinks of the late dues letter and sighs
Grand Master putts buy in that Maxi
No wave, no beep, just a side eye
He’ll never know he had his lad wind the clock back
He’ll never know it used to be a taxi
Laughs about them calling a curse down on him
Audi, Vide, Tace, Tace!
He’s got Avengers, a Hillman Imp, Beemers, Sunbeams, Vivas
Austin’s all aggro, he don’t normally stress
Just needs to find those little bastards that keyed his Princess
No one touches my Princess
Ken’s thinking time’s short
People don’t buy bangers no more
People don’t buy coal no more
And why’d you want to put a tyre depot there for
He’s remembering the old man
Who used to beg for pennies in the doorway of the Vulcan
Never saw nothing black as that bridge
Like some kraken from the Usk sprayed it with ink
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
Afloat upon the bearded sea two black eyes stare back at me
and sink into the grey and green a conversation lost between
The surface and the flow of the Gulf Stream
I drifted out here on the tide behind the waves that surfers ride
Warm & salty silent sweet a place where alien species meet
I can’t feel the earth beneath my feet
Carreg bica slowly worn away shrinking by the hour and by the day
Half the size it was in years before standing sentinel calling from the shore
When rockets split the sky over Aberporth
The water swells up in my ears to wash my face with salty tears
Current tugging at my toes where she drags me I don’t know
Down down below, down down below, down down below
The selkie surfaced once again clambered up upon a rock
Lost in silence staring out to sea, hopelessly slow to react
|
||||
9. |
River Daughter
04:14
|
|||
|
Left home three days ago a reported ‘missing mother’
A single late night call was made for a taxi to the long parade
Everyday a different headline, c’mon we all know who’s to blame
Those words they called her, that was not her name
Those words were not her name
Here comes the local paper, here comes the poor girls friend
Here comes the salty sailors tears, rolling in to go out again
Did you talk to the girl in the puffa coat?
A roadside camera saw her pass
The water held her but changed direction way too fast
To stop that endless struggle just one more hill to climb
The river hasn’t given anything but it’s restless and it winds
Yeah it’s restless and it winds
River daughter you can rest here now
Where the north wind blows cold across the town
|
||||
10. |
Ghost Light
03:49
|
|||
|
All the crowds have gone and had stayed inside
Nobody walked anymore no one even tried to drive
Le Pub is dark for god knows how long
Shall I turn off the light? or should I leave it on for a while?
The ghost light shines, just like a nascent sun
Shines on everyone
Wide eyed and drunk, I’ll see you down the front
It lights up everyone
There’s nothing here except whisky and beer
Upstairs the pigeons snooze or bill and coo
There’s nothing else to do
I hear talk of ghosts dancing in the ghost light glow
Cause the truth is strange and broken bones can be rearranged
Will it ever be the same? will the coast be clear?
Will it fade away then disappear?
Emotions pulled from pillar to post
This is the safest place
Did she say she saw a ghost?
And if that’s true I think we’ll all pull through
Sam said it was a sign
Let’s hope it works out fine
Not long to wait I can hear the band they’re warming up
Shall we grab a drink? yes I’ll catch you up and see you down the front
God it’s rammed tonight, word’s really got around
I guess the light still shines cause I’m in the bar and I can hear the sound
|
||||
11. |
Lost In The Wentwood
04:13
|
|||
|
Somewhere in the trees in the darkness and the deep
At the end of the trail under leaves and bark, lay your head down and sleep
The forest has receded but it looms high above the hill
Impenetrable and ancient it hides its secrets still
Uwchcoed above the wood, Iscoed below
Split between the river and the blood red clay
I am lost in the Wentwood I am lost on a path through the trees
No one will ever find, they’ll never find me
Sweet heavy smell, fallen branches and a sea of bluebells
Devils stinkhorn fills the air towering broad leaf trees
Boney fingers dig through soft damp mulch, there are things that we can’t see
Nothing moves on the surface but somethings breathing underneath
Guarding its secret still, we can never leave
Shadows under the canopy whispering their spells
Smoke and fire in a clearing wild eyes peering in
Twin sparks of a reflected flame watch the ritual begin
I am lost in the Wentwood I am lost on a path through the trees
|
||||
12. |
Black Gold at Six Bells
04:13
|
|||
|
I heard the six bells ring as it was yesterday
That was my last day underground
Black gold black gold, black gold black gold
Never promised, never promised tomorrow
We were grateful for each day
Sky and sun the wind and rain
Underground we toiled away
For eight long hours we died
Darkness like it never was
We will not return
Now we step out of the cage
Glad to be reborn
I heard the six bells ring as it was yesterday
|
||||
Jon Langford & The Men Of Gwent Newport, UK
The Band-
Jon Langford (The Mekons, The Three Johns, Waco Brothers, Four Lost Souls) –
vocals/guitars
Matt Gray – (The Darling Buds, Give Me Memphis, Soldier Dolls) – vocals/guitars
Julian Hayman (Charlotte Greig, Give Me Memphis) – vocals/mandolin
Mark “Smartie” – Price (Two Marks & A Frank) – bass
Barkley McKay (The Pretty Things) – keyboards
Erik Stams (The Darling Buds, Burning Ferns) – drums
... more
If you like Jon Langford & The Men Of Gwent, you may also like:
supported by 35 fans who also own “Lost On Land & Sea”
Keep going, Mekons. XOXO Rick Vegas
go to album
Where It Really Starts
by Jon Langford & the Bright Shiners
supported by 28 fans who also own “Lost On Land & Sea”
go to album
Jon Langford's Lucky 7 Series, Part 3
by Jon Langford
supported by 27 fans who also own “Lost On Land & Sea”
go to album
Hold The Door For Strangers
by Labrador
Philadelphia-based Labrador make unfussy and empathetic alt-country meant to sincerely bolster the downcast in times of strife.
go to album
Suburbia Space Program
by Wolf Collage
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jul 23, 2013
go to album
MATANGO!
by The Kill Devil Hills
Down and dirty blues rock from this Western Australian band makes for a truly visceral listening experience.
go to album
Jon Langford's Lucky 7 Series, Part 2
by Jon Langford
supported by 26 fans who also own “Lost On Land & Sea”
go to album
