Lyrics


Alaska

On Fellbarrow Hill
Head in the clouds
It feels like you’re next to me
Looking out at the town
The 21st Century has been bringing us down
Our childhoods are history
They left without a sound

In the tearooms at two
Sat over from you
Our raincoats are worn and torn like the love we once knew
Now we can smile again
Where once we withdrew
From simple existence
Now we’ll make our own way through

I can lose Cappadocia… it’ll leave on the breeze
I can lose St Lucia to cerulean seas
I can lose Nara behind doorways of dreams
But I can’t lose Alaska
It’s to vast and far away from me

Under overcast skies
At Loweswater Lake
Your hair ‘cross your face
Blown cross your lips, you smile anyway
It feels like we’re real again
With so little time to spend
So much science to comprehend
So let’s breathe each moment in

I can lose Mesa Verde, hopes aren’t hewn from stone
I can lose St Petersburg, leave her dancing alone
I can lose the Aurlandsfjord, drift out to the unknown
But I can’t lose Alaska
It’s too vast and far away from home

At Killington Lake
And it’s getting late
Bought a couple of cheap photo frames to remember our day
Sat in the car
Your hand next to mine
Your face is so gentle
Your words, so pure and kind

I can lose Gullfoss, it’ll carry my tears
I can lose Bergen, it’s all wharves and piers
I can lose Stone Town, Tulum or Tangiers
But I can’t lose Alaska
It’s too vast, and far away from here

Written and performed by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


Antiques Shop (1923 – 2017)

The Great War is over
Arthur Burscough is back up on his feet
Walked from his factory town with teapot and a vase
To find his fortune by the sea

The Burscough Family Antique shop
“Buy ’em low, sell ’em high”
A roaring trade of ornaments and artefacts revealed
By Mr B’s discerning eye

And as, it grew, and Arthur knew
That his children could have it better
And every night Kathleen would turn out the light
While he closed the shutter
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

More than twenty years have passed now
Arthur checks his pocket watch, thinks it’s time to leave
As the bombs explode on street corners
But all that he can hear, is the rattle of the King’s artillery

The streets alive with victory parties
Kathleen wears a widows veil
But the Burscough Family Antique shop
Will always prevail

She worked so hard and played her part
That her children would have it better
And every night with Arthur’s ghost by her side
She’d turn out the light
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

It’s Edward’s 18th birthday
Kathleen hands him the key
But he’s a poet and a dreamer at heart
And doesn’t give a damn about antiques

But he’d pour his cup of coffee in the morning
Walk down the stairs in a daze
Slowly rocking his dreams to sleep
With his old familiar ways

Cause he loved his mum and dad
And he gave it what he had
But in the silence he was far away from home
And every night
He’d read by candle light
Sat up in his bedroom all alone
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

Edwards older brother Harry
Never came back from the war
But he had a son with a sad eyed girl from Rome
And this morning he showed up at the door

Down the local 3rd March, 72
Francesco downs another beer
Whilst Edward asks him seemingly endless searching questions
About growing up in Rome and how he got here

Then one summer night
Edward boarded an international flight
And was never seen again
So Fran took a stand
Raised a pint glass in his hand
Said “I’m the captain, and I’ll sail this ship to land!”
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

Another ten years drift past
Francesco’s drinking is getting out of hand
But his wife Julie is on the ball
The antiques trade is something she can understand

She counts the takings, but they’re gone within a week
As Fran drinks his senses dull
And Julie sinks her heart far and further down
‘Til he finally leaves the family home, with a working girl from Hull

And she tried to keep up
But the economy was f**ked
And she barely kept her head above water
But every night with a glint in her eye
She’d sing as she closed the shutter
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

Now Julie’s with a man named David
She’s finally loved for who she is
1999 they’re married in the spring
And his son from his first marriage is standing up to sing

Jason’s unemployed but he wants to be a star
He’s been an extra on The Bill
He nearly was Neil Diamond on Stars In Their Eyes
But today he’s singing Solsbury Hill

And his daughter Faye
Is turning five on Sunday
And he’s hoping to get to see her
He’ll take her to the shop
So she can play with all the clocks
And sit amongst the dolls and the silver
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

An engine left running
Francesco curses blindly, pounding on the glass
He’s heard that Julie’s remarried
Says he’s back to claim his birthright, before his chance has passed

Julie cowers behind the till
Fran barges through the wooden door
And gentle David calmly steps between the two
Then a punch comes like a freight train and he’s passed out out on the floor

The ambulance journey seems to last for hours
They say he’s fallen badly, the shock has stopped his heart
The paramedic squeezing Julie’s hand
Whilst his colleague gives another round of CPR

Three days later, they turn off the machine
There’s nothing they can do, Julie cries in the canteen
The police catch up with Fran on the coastal road it seems
Drunken, blood stained and passed out at the wheel

And sat up in bed
Kathleen tilts her head
As the nurse reads out Julie’s latest letter
She turns away
Wipes a tear from her face
And she prays things will change for the better

Jason’s taken on the shop now
He’s made a website and a promo video
He’s selling souvenirs and e-cigs
To pay the second mortgage when he’s not in any shows

He wants to pass it over to his daughter
But she’s living up in Leeds
Writing about the rise and fall of coastal towns
In the first year of her PhD

In the back room of the shop
He looked for Arthur’s pocket watch
To take onto The Antique’s Roadshow
And he brought it there
And they said that it was rare
But the clip was never aired….
Purveyors of fine antiques
Passed down the line since 1923

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


Diana Camera

Stay in bed for an extra hour
Just to lie awake and linger on you
It’s all that I can do

A rush of blood, our stomachs capsize
You’re standing at your front door and
I am lying on my kitchen floor

My celtic tuning, your Diana camera
I’ll cook the dinner and baby, you can drive the car
Ever since the night we met
Heart’s been growing out my chest
You hit me like a train but I’m 200 miles north west
And these winter skies will never seem the same again
Seem the same again

When I share my nakedness with you
It feels like I’m falling down, but not to the ground
But to the warmth of your arms

My celtic tuning, your Diana camera
I’ll cook the dinner and baby, you can drive the car
Ever since the night we met
Heart’s been growing out my chest
You hit me like a train but I’m 200 miles north west
And these winter skies will never seem the same again
Seem the same again

Your beauty your body, your perfect imperfections
Your mind, your smile, the way you feel in four dimensions
Crawling cross the floor cross half a country to find my way to you
To find my way to you…

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


Don’t Die On Me Now

I remember you in the snow
They put on just for us
Before I had to go

And every crystal in your hair
Committed to my memory
With every gasp of winter air

Standing at the station
The lady there said something
But then I saw you smile
With those winter morning eyes

You jumped into a taxi
I went underground
We talked the whole way down

You handed me a light
The light turned into fire
The fire turned into pain
Til I kissed you lips again

Don’t die on me now
We’re so close that I can taste it in my mouth
I know you’re scared that we’ll never make it out
So let me hold you close my love
Don’t die on me now

From a stranger in a doorway
To a future in my arms
I’ve never felt this way

And the hours turned into days
The days turned into weeks
The weeks turned into months
Let these months turn into years

Don’t die on me now
We’re so close that I can taste it in my mouth
I know you’re scared that we’ll never make it out
So let me hold you close my love
Don’t die on me now
Don’t die on me now
Don’t die on me now
Don’t die on me now

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


Mere Mistakes

Every night you ask of me
“Is this what love’s supposed to be?”
I retaliate “Yes, my dear!
Let me pour you another cup of tea.”

Every morning you ask again
“Is this for real or is this pretend?”
I ask you kindly “Calm yourself.
Could there ever be anything else?”

They say that it’s supposed to feel right
So why am I so damn scared?
When we’re alone on a quiet night
Your heart is beating next to mine
Your flame needs fanning but I’m practically dead inside

Oh girl you were the firebird
You burned so strong and true
But then I built this lovely cage
So that I could forever be with you

I gently put your fire out
And clipped your fragile wings
So we could live in eternal bliss
Or whatever else the future brings

They say that it’s supposed to feel right
So why am I so damn scared?
When we’re alone on a quiet night
Your heart is beating next to mine
You’re sending out signals but I’m never on the line

You told me I was loveless
And that you felt unloveable
I said “I’ll give you anything…
but hey I’m not infallible.”

But you can recognise mere mistakes
And you’re an expert on artifice
You saw me coming a mile away
You felt the shame in every kiss

They say that it’s supposed to feel right
So why am I so damn scared?
When we’re alone on a quiet night
Your heart is beating next to mine
Your soul’s reaching out but I’m not that kind of guy

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


Sherpa

There’s spirits in this valley
Ancient treasures buried deep
A million footsteps echoed
A thousand trembling feet
You told me of a landscape
A patchwork bathed in gold
I said you must be dreaming
And I curled up in the snow

I can be a Sherpa for your heart
I’ll play the silent part
I’ll keep you warm and fed
I’ll never leave

In a blizzard battered hovel
That’s where I like to stay
Sir Edmund at the front door
But no one’s here today
Two fjordland crested penguins
Lift you up like angels
Far beyond horizons
Past fallen friends and strangers

I can be a Sherpa for your heart
I’ll play the silent part
I’ll keep you warm and fed
I’ll never leave

The sound of running water
The scent of mountain sage
Has blown across these ice flows
Since the mesolithic age
But weather never moved me
Except to turn my head down
From your favourite ancient poetry
Carved into the valley

I can be a Sherpa for your heart
I’ll play the silent part
I’ll keep you warm and fed
I’ll never leave

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


The Blue Meander

I could be the one who never hurt you
I could be the one who found your smile
Slip into my arms and I’ll immerse you

And I’ll carry you on the blue meander
Drifting in the blue
Oh you shouldn’t be afraid of the blue meander
Just close your eyes, love

I could be the one who set the fire
I could be the one who snuffed it out
Darling are you there? I know you’re tired

And I’ll carry you on the blue meander
Rising from the grottos to the skies
Oh you shouldn’t be afraid of the blue meander
Just close your eyes, love

I could be the one

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


The Only Perfect Love Song

In the cupboard under the stairs
In the box between the wardrobe and the bed
Forty years of paperwork have coalesced
and formed like coral
Kathleen pulls the face that she makes
As she pores through the ages
Stories, letters, photographs, old maps
and torn out pages

But give her time
And soon she’ll find
The only perfect love song
She wrote it down
And stored it away like a secret
Back when she was twenty one
Twenty one

Sat like a geisha, the sun ‘cross her face
At her father’s piano
Nobody’s home, everything’s quiet
She can sing what she wants now

She starts with the tonic and adds a ninth on it
It’s ringing through her heart
Like aeroplanes, transcontinental trains
Brooding skies and old works of art

But give her time
And soon she’ll find
The only perfect love song
She’ll write it down
And store it away like a secret
After all she’s only twenty one
Twenty one

And as the years went by, the Axminster carpet dimmed
And the leaves changed from brown, to green, and back again
And dust settled on shelves
As also on ourselves
And love’s frail promise drifted from god knows where
To god knows when

John, the old widower
Has just moved in next door
Kathleen waits nervously
Tracing the lines on the score
He comes with a four track, a bass and a banjo
They both blow the dust of her father’s piano
You think you’ll forget but old muscles recall
The shapes of the chords and the cadence of falling in
Love, love, love
Two broken voices singing
The only perfect love song
She wrote it down
And stored it away like a promise
Back when she was twenty one
But though it felt near
So vivid and clear
Just like it felt back then
Oh, she wondered
She dared to wonder
Could I feel that again?
Could I feel that again?
Could I feel that again?
Could I feel that again?
Yeah I’ll feel that again
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that I’ll feel it again
Yeah I’ll feel it again
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that I’ll feel it again
I’ll it again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again…
I’ll feel that again

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


The Shadow Never Fades Away

There’s a shadow deep inside of me
It’s been there since I’ve ever known
No matter how bright the sun
It’s still looming when the morning comes
The season, the time of day
The shadow never fades away

There’s a shadow deep inside of me
But I’ll never admit that it’s there
Whilst it dampens every cheer
Soaks up every tear
Poisons every play
The shadow never fades away

There’s a shadow deep inside of me
It knows it’s place, but doesn’t know it’s name
No matter the pain I’ve caused
I’m gonna put you through the wars
I’ll lie and I’ll cheat to stay
The shadow never fades away

There’s a shadow deep inside of me
You’ve shone your beam of love upon it endlessly
You’ve plucked out every fear
Whispered in my ear
Don’t matter what you do or say
The shadow never fades away

There’s a shadow deep inside of me
I like to sit beneath it’s sullen boughs
And that’s where I retreat
I crave the taste of defeat
Living just to die someday
The shadow never fades away

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved


You, Me & The Coffee Pot

And we drove we drove for hours
Lightning followed in our wake
Illuminating broken up coastlines
Transformers and power lines

And the wind began to blow
As the hidden moon hung low
And the pigeons cooed like lovers
Calling from the darkened dining room

So it started out fine,
And it ended up alright,
We were chased by black angels
And blinded by the light
But we made it through the morning
And we made it through the night
Now you, me and the coffee pot
Could see everything
And we still might…
We still might

And we fed it when we could
In forests sawn up for their wood
And in the Caledonian rain
We dipped into another country lane – where at last we understood

That like the Nith the Forth and the Tay
We’d both meandered in our way
Shipwrecked lovers in a bay
The back of the ocean they say

So it started out fine,
And it ended up alright,
We were chased by black angels
And blinded by the light
But we made it through the morning
And we made it through the night
Now you, me and the coffee pot
Could see everything
And we still might…
We still might

And now the tears from the windowsills
Are stored in giant copper stills
But though the mountainsides are dry
The pebbledash mansions are all mine

And we drove we drove for hours
Lightning followed in our wake
And in a flash I felt more sure
Than I’d ever felt before, that we would take the turns we had to take

So it started out fine,
And it ended up alright,
We were chased by black angels
And blinded by the light
But we made it through the morning
And we made it through the night
Now you, me and the coffee pot
Could see everything
And we still might
We still might
We still might
We still might

Written by Martin Lloyd Chitty

© all rights reserved