Wings of Gold (Pernille R. Quigg)

 

Black silhouettes sailing on stormy sky

caught twixt the darkness and light

an emerald ocean stretches wide

a sailor who drowns just out of sight.

 

Wings of gold

as the sun strikes the last match

and goes down in flames

the clear sky brings the cold.

 

Swift flying arrows of tempered steel

the archer he stretches his bow

a blustery kiss from the northwest wind

the songbird sleeps so too the sparrow.

 

The crescent moon only hangs constant

like a hook on the drapery behind

still it moves as it guides your path

but always in the shade of borrowed light.

When I’m Gone (Phil Ochs)

There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone
And you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t breathe the bracing air when I’m gone
And I can’t even worry ’bout my cares when I’m gone
Won’t be asked to do my share when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t feel the flowing of the time when I’m gone
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I’m gone
My pen won’t pour a lyric line when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be running from the rain when I’m gone
And I can’t even suffer from the pain when I’m gone
Can’t say who’s to praise and who’s to blame when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

Won’t see the golden of the sun when I’m gone
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I’m gone
Can’t be singing louder than the guns when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone
And I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone
And you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it, I guess I’ll have to do it
Guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

CARRADALE (ALAN REID)

 

I TOOK THE ROAD TO CARRADALE ONE HAZY SUMMER’S MORN

IT WAS EARLY IN JULY, THE SUN WAS IN THE SKY
I TOOK THE ROAD RELUCTANTLY A LITTLE BIT FORLORN
WITH NO ONE THERE BESIDE TO ASK ME WHY


BUT WHEN I GOT TO ARROCHAR AND CAME UPON LOCH LONG
THE ‘COBBLER’ HIGH ABOVE ME MADE ME SMILE
THE AIR WAS GROWIN’ SWEETER AND THE WATER LAY SERENE THAT SUNNY DAY THE DAY I TOOK THE ROAD TO CARRADALE


I WAS GRATEFUL BY THE TIME THE ‘REST AND THANKFUL’ HAD BEEN WON INVERARY LAY AHEAD AND I DIDN’T FEEL SO BAD
IT ALREADY SEEMED ALTHOUGH MY JOURNEY WASN’T YET HALF DONE SUCH A LONG TIME SINCE I’D RISEN FROM MY BED


THE ROAD WAS SLOW AND TWISTING AS I ROUNDED EVERY TURN
AND ANOTHER VIEW TO LOOK UPON AND TAKE MY BREATH AWAY
I KNEW THERE WAS NO NEED FOR HASTE AND SO I TOOK MY TIME UPON THAT DAY THE DAY I TOOK THE ROAD TO CARRADALE


I HEADED FOR LOCHGILPHEAD AND TURNED SOUTHWARD ONCE AGAIN MEANDERING BY CRINAN AND ARDRISHAIG ON LOCH FYNE
THEN SOMEWHERE AFTER TARBERT IN KINTYRE I SAW THE SIGN
AND I KNEW THAT I WAS NEARING CARRADALE


SOMETIMES IT SEEMS LIKE LIVING IS A TRIAL YOU MUST ENDURE
YOU DO YOUR BEST BUT STILL IT FEELS YOU’VE FAILED
BUT OTHER TIMES IT SEEMS THAT LIFE IS GOOD AND YOU ARE SURE YOU KNOW YOUR WAY LIKE THE DAY I TOOK THE ROAD FOR CARRADALE

Tollundmanden. (Pernille R. Quigg)

 

Jeg gik mig ud en morgen tidlig

hvor forårssolen strakte sine arme

og tog verden i sin favn.

Jeg følte duggen frisk imod min pande

hørte fuglesang og lyden af din stemme

der kaldte mit navn.

 

Sig mig ser du den evighed

der gemmer sig bag mine øjenlåg

salt var tåren der blændede mit blik

for alt det jeg aldrig sku’ nå.

 

Så gik vi sammen hjemad hånd i hånd

langs stier hvor vi ofte før har gået

da unge hjerter sang.

Jeg hørte barnegråd der blev til latter

siden holdt jeg et varsomt vågent øje

for natten er mørk og lang

 

Nu ligger jeg som sov jeg bag ved glasset

som Snehvide lå forgiftet af et æble

og drømmer i tusinde år.

For mosens gud beskytter sine ofre

min brune hud, mit hår og mine læber

men kun guder genopstår.

What You Do With What You’ve Got. (Si Kahn)

You must know someone like him
He was tall and strong and lean
With a body like a greyhound
And a mind so sharp and keen
But his heart, just like a laurel,
Grew twisted round itself
Till almost everything he did
Caused pain to someone else

It's not just what you're born with
It's what you choose to bear
It's not how big your share is
But how much you can share
And it's not the fights you dreamed of
But those you really fought
It's not what you've been given
It's what you do with what you've got

Now what's the good of two strong legs
If you only run away?
And what use is the finest voice
If you've nothing good to say?
And what good is strength and muscle
If you only push and shove?
And what's the use of two good ears
If you can't hear those you love?

Between those who use their neighbours
And those who use a cane
Between those in constant power
And those in constant pain
Between those who run to evil
And those who cannot run
Tell me which ones are the cripples
And which ones touch the sun?

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