1. |
||||
|
they‘re not going to let you
sit at a front table
at some cafe in Europe
in the mid-afternoon sun.
if you do, somebody‘s going to
drive by and
spray your guts with a
submachine gun.
they‘re not going to let you
feel good
for very long
anywhere.
the forces aren‘t going to
let you sit around
fucking-off and
relaxing.
you‘ve got to go
their way.
all you can do is maybe grab
ten lucky minutes here
or maybe an hour there.
the unhappy, the bitter and the vengeful
need their fix - which is you
or somebody anybody in agony, or
better yet dead,
dropped into some hole.
as long as there are
humans about
there is never going to be
any peace
for any individual
upon this earth or
anywhere else
they might
escape to.
the unhappy, the bitter and the vengeful
need their fix - which is you
or somebody anybody in agony, or
better yet dead,
dropped into some hole.
Something is working toward you right now,
and I mean you and nobody but you.
all you can do is maybe grab
ten lucky minutes here
all you can do is maybe grab
ten lucky minutes here
or maybe an hour there.
|
||||
2. |
Winter Die
03:16
|
|||
|
All day I’ve toiled but not with pain
In learning’s golden mine
And now at eventide again
The moonbeams softly shine
There is no snow upon the ground
No frost on wind or wave
The south wind blew with gentlest sound
And broke their icy grave
Tis sweet to wander here at night
To watch the winter die
With heart as summer sunshine light
And warm as summer’s sky
O may I never lose the peace
That lulls me gently now
Through time may change my youthful face
And years may shade my brow
True to myself and true to all
May I be healthful still
And turn away from passion’s call
And curb my own wild will
Tis sweet to wander here at night
To watch the winter die
With heart as summer sunshine light
And warm as summer’s sky
|
||||
3. |
Wet Snow
05:22
|
|||
|
White tree on black tree, Ghostly appearance
White tree on black tree, fastened on another,
Called up by harsh spells of this wintry weather.
You stand in the night
As though to speak to me.
Wet Snow
I could almost, Say what you do not fail to say;
I could almost, that’s why
I turn away, In terror, not to see
A tree stand there
Hugged by its own ghost.
Wet Snow
White tree on black tree, Ghostly appearance
White tree on black tree, fastened on another,
Called up by harsh spells of this wintry weather.
You stand in the night
As though to speak to me.
Wet Snow
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling’ring here;
Their very memory is fair and bright
And my sad thoughts doth clear.
It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
Like stars upon some gloomy grove,
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest,
After the sun’s remove.
I see them walking in an air of glory,
Whose light doth trample on my days:
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,
Mere glimmering and decays.
O holy Hope! and high Humility,
High as the heavens above!
These are your walks, and you have show’d them me
To kindle my cold love.
Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just,
Shining nowhere, but in the dark;
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust
Could man outlook that mark!
He that hath found some fledg’d bird’s nest, may know
At first sight, if the bird be flown;
But what fair well or grove he sings in now,
That is to him unknown.
And yet as angels in some brighter dreams
Call to the soul, when man doth sleep:
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes
And into glory peep.
If a star were confin’d into a tomb,
Her captive flames must needs burn there;
But when the hand that lock’d her up, gives room,
She’ll shine through all the sphere.
O Father of eternal life, and all
Created glories under thee!
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall
Into true liberty.
Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill
My perspective still as they pass,
Or else remove me hence unto that hill,
Where I shall need no glass.
|
||||
5. |
Afton Water
06:05
|
|||
|
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I‘ll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary‘s asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro‘ the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark‘d with the courses of clear winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary‘s sweet cot in my eye.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary‘s asleep by thy murmuring stream.
|
||||
6. |
congrats, Chinaski
04:20
|
|||
|
as I near 70 – I get letters,
cards, little gifts – from strange people.
congratulations, they tell me
I know what they mean: the way I have lived
I should have been dead in half that time
congratulations, they tell me
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
congratulations, death, on your patience.
I have helped you all that I can.
now one more poem and a walk out
on the balcony, such a fine night there
I am dressed in shorts and stockings,
gently scratch my old belly,
look out there, look off there where dark meets dark
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
congratulations, death, on your patience.
I have helped you all that I can.
I have piled myself with a mass of grand abuse, been
careless toward myself almost to the point of madness,
I am still here leaning toward
this machine in this smoke-filled room,
this large blue trashcan to my left
full of empty (full of empty)
– containers
now one more poem
and a walk out on the balcony, such a fine night there
I am dressed in shorts and stockings,
gently scratch my old belly,
look out there, look off there where dark meets dark
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
the doctors have no answers and the gods are silent
congratulations, death, on your patience.
I have helped you all that I can
it‘s been one hell of a crazy ballgame
it‘s been one hell of a crazy ballgame
|
||||
7. |
Dead Love
04:32
|
|||
|
Oh never weep for love that’s dead
Since love is seldom true
But changes his fashion from blue to red,
From brightest red to blue,
And love was born to an early death
And is so seldom true.
Then harbour no smile on your bonny face
To win the deepest sigh.
The fairest words on truest lips
Pass on and surely die,
And you will stand alone, my dear,
When wintry winds draw nigh.
Sweet, never weep for what cannot be,
For this God has not given.
If the merest dream of love were true
Then, sweet, we should be in heaven,
And this is only earth, my dear,
|
||||
8. |
More Or Less
06:29
|
|||
|
Or love mee lesse, or love mee more and play not with my liberty,
Either take all, or all restore, bind mee at least, or set mee free,
Let mee some nobler torture finde than of a doubtfull wavering mynd,
Take all my peace, but you betray myne honour too this cruell way.
Tis true that I have nurst before that hope of which I now com-plaine,
And having little sought no more, fearing to meet with your dis-daine:
The sparks of favour you did give, I gently blew to make them live:
And yet have gaind by all this care no rest in hope, nor in despaire.
(But) I no longer can give way
to hope, which doeth so little pay,
And yet I dare no freedome owe whilst you are kind,
though but in show.
Then give me more, or give me lesse, do not disdaine a mutuall sense,
Or your unpittying beauties dresse in their owne free indifference;
But shew not a severer eye sooner to give mee liberty,
For I shall love the very scorne which for my sake you do put on.
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
Now watch this autumn that arrives,
All looks like summer still;
Colours are quite unchanged, the air
On green and white serenely thrives.
Heavy the trees with growth and full the fields.
Flowers flourish every-where.
Flowers flourish every-where.
Proust who collected time within
(a child‘s) cake would understand
The ambiguity of this –
Summer still raging while
a thin column of smoke stirs from the land.
Proving (that) autumn gropes for us.
Proving (that) autumn gropes for us.
But I am carried back against
my will into a childhood
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
But every season is a kind –
Of rich nostalgia
Autumn and summer, winter, spring
(- As though) to unfasten from the mind
Our moods and give them out ward forms.
We want the certain, solid thing.
We want the certain, solid thing.
But I am carried back against my will into a childhood
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
But every season is a kind –
Of rich nostalgia.
Autumn and summer, winter, spring
(- As though) to unfasten from the mind
Our moods and give them out ward forms.
We want the certain, solid thing.
We want the certain, solid thing.
But I am carried back against my will into a childhood
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
Where Autumn is bonfires, marbles and smoke;
I lean against my window fenced –
From evocations in the air.
When I said autumn, autumn broke.
When I said autumn, autumn broke.
|
||||
10. |
The Ravens
06:04
|
|||
|
The ravens gather at the end of the day, cold is the air, lights fade away
The ravens gather at the end of the day, the ravens call me
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul, tear me apart, I follow their call
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul and I follow, I follow
Gone is your laughter my dear one, gone is the light in your bright hazel eyes
Gone with the sound of the morning and the world holds its breath
Never again will I touch you never again hear you calling my name
Never again will I ask you if life treated you well
The ravens gather at the end of the day, cold is the air, lights fade away
The ravens gather at the end of the day, the ravens call me
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul, tear me apart, I follow their call
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul and I follow, I follow
Gone is your laughter my dear one, gone is the light in your bright hazel eyes
Gone with the sound of the morning and the world holds its breath
Never again will I touch you never again hear you calling my name
Never again will I ask you if life treated you well
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul, tear me apart, I follow their call
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul and I follow, I follow
The ravens lead me to the home of my soul and I follow, I follow
|
||||
11. |
Without A Trace
06:01
|
|||
|
Splintered glass distorts my face,
We all can hear the call of pain,
Do not forget to use this space.
We sit here in our special place
With empty glasses of champagne;
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass distorts my face,
Do not forget to use this space.
In some perfect state of pure grace
I’m feeling like a kid again;
Do not forget to use this space.
Daylight vanished without a trace,
The streets of New York filled with rain,
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass distorts my face,
Do not forget to use this space.
No change is made without a mace;
The black and broken windowpane –
Do not forget to use this space.
You hear the song without disgrace,
Everyone waves its chain.
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass (without a trace),
Splintered glass distorts my face,
Do not forget to use this space.
|
||||
12. |
Medley
11:23
|
|||
|
Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well can’t move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Quit for shame! This will not move;
This cannot take her.
If of herself she will not love,
Nothing can make her:
Why so dull and mute, young sinner?
Prithee, why so mute?
Will, when speaking well can’t win her,
Saying nothing do ‘t?
Quit for shame! This will not move;
This cannot take her.
If of herself she will not love,
Nothing can make her:
|
||||
Fairway Vienna, Austria
FAIRWAY is an Austrian/Viennese Band, founded in 1980. FAIRWAY plays Urban Folk-Rock.
"Cosmic Twig" Album Release Party: 20 Oct 2016, Replugged/Vienna
If you like Fairway, you may also like:
Lost Time Behind the Moon
by Scott Hirsch
The sophomore solo effort from Hiss Golden Messenger bassist Scott Hirsch offers a fresh batch of songs that kick back to classic country, tempered with a satisfying dose of psychedelia.
go to album
Super Giant & World Music Oddities
by The Uplifting Bell Ends
This special vinyl release features remastered songs from the Sydney indie folk outfit and includes a few songs from an earlier album.
go to album
Rundgren-esque rock with big hooks and a hint of the baroque, recommended for fans of Jon Brion and post-Kill Rock Stars Elliott Smith.
go to album
From London comes this beguilingly mysterious folk-based album with skeletal acoustics and melodies.
go to album
24th Street Blues
by Tom Heyman
Tom Heyman documents life in San Francisco circa 2023, refusing to succumb to easy characterization & instead capturing the city’s nuance.
go to album
Stuck in the Aching Again
by Fur Trader
L.A. singer-songwriter Andrew Pelletier goes full on Gene Clark with some woozy effects on this latest EP.
go to album
The experimental UK artist's latest album is decidedly genre-agnostic.
go to album
