calling to you from somewhere - tear down the red mist - sweet communion of the heart - apple of my eye this ritual - botfhed apples - the bosum of aphrodite - soft green surface of the fields - the last rose choosing cherries from the stone - wilkins - nine million of thee - the writing of plenty - the old land dog - sleep now

CALLING TO YOU FROM SOMEWHERE

I’m calling to you from somewhere
I’m calling to you from somewhere
Like a shining fish, I’m swimming round in circles
I’m stuck waiting at the station, you say

I’m calling to you from nowhere
I’m calling to you from nowhere
In the afternoon of summer, sparkling, like a
Shimmering shoal of our own, you say

Chorus
For here, in this low place, I am dancing
All my life, and still I’ve been reminded, and now
With this little boy’s life, hidden in my hands
His dreams are welcome

I’m calling to you from somewhere
I’m calling to you from somewhere
Like a whisper, speak it softly, strength is our salvation
It’s the wisdom of waiting, right now
I called to you from somewhere, now
Come on Archie, there’s a whirlpool of beauty
Out there

Chorus
For here, in this low place, I am dancing
All my life, and been so sheltered, and now
With this little boy’s life, hold it in your hands
His dreams are welcome

TEAR DOWN THE RED MIST

Old timer, where are the trains you spotted?
Where are the kings that you served till the end of the day
Stand up for all the wisdom that they’ve spoken and
Your hearts been broken, hearts are breaking now

Old art, slammed the door on me, dressed up in its finery
Stout fellows watching the tide turning on its side
Turn around for me, and

Chorus
Tear down the red mist, it clashes with my eyes
It’s who you know not what you did, that is my surprise, and
Pick up your pipes my friend, and play that tune for me
The one from Brittany, the poor mans litany

Fortune favours the fortunate, let it all come soon
While the minister’s his messages to speak from his favourite tune
Oh country, oh my country, I can’t imagine leaving
Oh it’s good to see the sunshine, discover hidden meanings

So cruise on down that carousel
Visit the arm you knew, back on that island, and
Thanks for coming back today, find yourself
Flying back to my home, dancing in that stream
Oh the colours you have seen

SWEET COMMUNION OF THE HEART
On the death of my mother Edna May Whittall
On February 8th 2007 with love from my father
And me

A breath of air, a glimpse of sea
This boat can carry you to me
Just turn around, and I’ll be there
Let’s be in the spring, let’s be in the spring

Oh, I’ve been waiting, such a while
To hear your voice and see that smile
Our house was built on a love that heals
We’ll walk on golden beaches
We’ll walk on frosted fields

Sweet communion of the heart
So softly speak to me
And send you swiftly through the silence
Such sweet mystery you are
To me

February 12th 2007

APPLE OF MY EYE

Come outside with me, we’ll go in the garden now
Together we shall be in the newness of spring
And take you by the hand in god’s new morning
I love to see that smile, apple of my eye

Learning, Growing, See me Showing
The way that you might be one day
Holding, Caring, Loving, Sharing
The best intentions brought to you

And now that you are nearly one
Such things have begun
In our lifetime
And now I look at you and say
I will love you each day
In our lifetime

Sometimes I know that you’re sleeping
And sometimes there’ll be weeping
Mother of my son
So let me take some of the weight from you
There must be something I can do
Mother of my son

Learning, Growing, See me Showing
The way that you might be one day
Holding, Caring, Loving, Sharing
The best intentions brought to you

And now that you are nearly one
Such things have begun
In our lifetime
And now I look at you and say
I will love you each day
In our lifetime

April 28th 2007

THIS RITUAL

There’s lichen on the rocky banks
And the snow falls down on sentiments
As I hurry down to Morvah
Through the host of painters too
The living saints and all the angels
That sleep beneath my feet
Are all calling me towards it
And my memories of you

There’s a faded picture postcard
Of waiters on the shingle
As we wade into the water
Where the people used to mingle
Oh there’s comfort in the memory
When you’re standing right in front of me
And it’s the heart that knows you care
So don’t look back my darling

And you’re standing around down Democracy street
And you’ll welcome a question but don’t you drag your feet
To the table of righteousness, where there’s shelter to confess
And there’s plenty to borrow right here, right here from me

Don’t start a cameo, you fallen angels
As a valentine rose starts to fade
And no correspondent that seems like a friend
Can break the bond that you’ve made
No one could out stagger the drunks on the corner
And the primitive stories they tell
Oh she’s home for the weekend, the journey is over
And there’s old faded memories to sell

Oh it’s so complicated, this ritual
As the shouting gets louder and harder for her
So let’s take these arms
And let’s be calmer now

Well there’s lichen on the rocky banks
And the snow falls down on sentiments
As I hurry down to Morvah
Through the host of painters too
The living souls of all the angels
And the granite at my feet
Are all calling me towards it
And my memories of you

And you’re standing alone by a jasper sea
And walking round the circles so familiar to me
So let’s take these arms
And let’s be calmer now

April 28th 2007

BOTCHED APPLES

Botched apples now
Botched apples gone to the friendly side
Botched apples now
Sing slightly simpler
Oh you sow, now

Oh apples lying on the ground, you
Botched apples now
At the sign of the cow
Living so merrily
Wait for squandering now

Botched apples now
Botched apples in the mouth of my tiny cow
Oh it’sChristmas
It’s Christmas time in sow

Botched apples gone
Botched apples gone to the friendly side

July 2007

THE BOSUM OF APHRODITE

My love lies, my love lies
In a frame of morning
In a frame of morning
Whispering down
Side a’facing
The bosum of Aphrodite’s waiting
I like em
I like em
So often
Milky mornings
And time
Milky mornings

La la la la la la la etc

July 2007

SOFT GREEN SURFACE OF THE FIELDS

Soft green surface of the fields
Heaven all around me as I kneel
Cherries on the table for a Sunday teatime
Glory, glory everywhere I feel

Are dancing with a leap
Little ones are waking fast asleep
Bury me below you on a frosty morning
In this quiet earth I shall be

And if you shine down on me
Kindly sprinkle some kindness
For it has to be worth noting that the
Heron hasn’t spotted our fish

So Ziz and Zaz and Blackie don’t you worry such a lot
History is speaking to us sorry I forgot
To feed you through the summer do I kneel
While all of you are craving for a meal

Soft green surface of the fields
Heaven all around me as I kneel
Bury me below you on a frosty morning
In this quiet earth I shall be

March 2007

CHOOSING CHERRIES FROM THE STONE

Raise ‘em up, your arms to me
This place is full of mysteries
A little piece of England, so dear to me
You are, you are

There’s no mistakes and there’s no questions
From me there’s no calamities
Shield your skin from too much sun
Let’s have a smile for everyone

Choosing cherries from the stone
In darkest winter, you were my sunshine
I felt so safe I could not sleep
Oh nothing matters kiss the little fingers
And try to catch my eye
And let’s spread a little silver on the earth
Let’s share this summer now
My son, my son

Place a garland by the spring
Enjoy the moments tears shall bring
There’s a comfort in the morning
Oh catch me if I’m falling now

Choosing cherries from the stone
Through darkest winter, you were my sunshine
You are my sunshine

July 2007

WILKINS

Greasy bacon smelling out the fridge
Hooded riders on the windy ridge
Don’t be like that call me Simpkins
Heavens sake don’t call me Wilkins
Wilkins all the way for us to see and do. It’s
Wilkins, Wilkins, Wilkins

Old Wilkie doesn’t tell a joke or two
Old Wilkie can’t remember who is who

Double standards, rocking at your pavement
Watch the way the wave went
It’s close to town
I’m closer now
Oh, I love you

Wilkins, Wilkins, Wilkins

I did not say Wilson, I said Wilkins

NINE MILLION OF THEE

Oh there’s nine million of thee. And there’s only one of me
And it only takes one of thee to me to help us with our dillemeree.
There’s only one of me, go out on a skate or a ski.
Don’t go out on a spree, you see
If I mean something to thee.

Into the bath go the lads, out of the bath go the lads
Don’t have it too hot, you might spoil the lot
And then there won’t be none of thee for the plot

Oh, it’s not the fee to me, it’s simply neccessary
Brilliant to be on the winning side
Who’s trying to hide on the banks of the clyde or the Dee
Aunty Marjory, oh she lived on the banks of the Tees
Well we called in the car and were very well mannered and
they gave us a lovely tea.
Cousin Ethel and me,
My mum and my dad they make three, and it
Only takes one of thee, my lad, to give us a happy ending.

Oh there’s nine million of thee. And there’s only one of me
And it only take sone of thee, my lad
And it’ll be fiddle de dee.

THE WRITING OF PLENTY

Writing of plenty now
Images of childhood
Writing of plenty now
Brilliant signs, you are mine
And only ours
And only ours
Are now

And when I whisper
When I whisper
Hear, the likely lad is here
Making of the harmony
Singing you bring to me

Thula thula
Thula thula
Thula thula
Thula thula

Writing of plenty now
Writer of the heart and
Shoulder in the little tiny town
Tiny little town
Tiny little mound

Oh Silbury wisdom
Waiting for the child
All alone
And smiling

Thula thula
Thula thula
Thula thula
Thula thula

July 2007

THE OLD LAND DOG(John Betjeman)

Old General Artichoke lay bloated on his bed
Just like the fighting Temaraire
Twelve responsive daughters were gathered round his head
And each of them was ten foot squarer
Old General Artichoke He didn’t want to die
He never understood the truth and that perhaps was why
It wouldn’t be correct to say he always told a lie
Womenfolk of England oh beware

Fetch me down my rifle it’s hanging in the hall
Just like the fighting Temaraire
Lydia get my cartridge cases twenty four in all
And each of them is ten foot squarer
I’ll tell you all in detail girls my every campaign
In Tuscany Bolivia Belukestan and Spain
And I’m telling you
Oh yeah I’m telling you
Womenfolk of England
oh Womenfolk of England oh beware

Old General Artichoke he’s over eighty two
Just like the fighting Temaraire
His daughters all make rush mats when they’ve nothing else to do
And each of them is ten foot squarer
Now all you pensioned army men from Tunbridge Wells to Perth
Here’s to General Artichoke the purplest man on earth
Give three loud cheers for Cheltenham the city of his birth
Womenfolk of England oh beware

lifted from the Uncollected Poems of Sir JOhn Betjeman and i hope
that he doen's mind this merry little ditty

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Paul Whittall and Goliards

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