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LYRICS FOR OLD SCHOOL SONGS, 1979

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Lyrics © Copyright stated copyright owner.
All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of copyright owner.
Please do not reproduce these lyrics elsewhere without express permission.


Grace Darling

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

You have been my lighthouse
In every storm
You have given shelter
You have kept me safe and warm
And in my darkest nights
You have shone your brightest lights
You are my saving grace
Darling I love you.

You have been the pilot
Who guides me home
You have been the my rock
As on the seven seas I roam
And when I was becalmed
You were the strength in my arms
You are my saving grace
Darling I love you.

And when I found my back
Was torn and broken on the reef
You sailed your tiny boat
Across the dark seas of my disbelief.

You have been the anchor
And I the chain
Straining as we hold ourselves
Together in the rain
I have found you ever there
My constant keeper's daughter fair
You are my saving grace
Darling I love you.


I've Been My Own Worst Friend

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

At the gate you will wait
And hesitate and you will lose
I've got my life to live
You must take what you make
From the fake without a name
I've nothing more to give.

But if pleasure means money, then take it all
I'll make sure I'm out the next time you call
I know that something always turns up in the end
I've been my own worst friend.

I was blind, you were kind
Now I find that I was shy
Nothing to do but leave
I understand, it was planned
Like the sand I'm high and dry
I've no more dreams to weave.

But if pleasure means money, then take it all
I'll make sure I'm out the next time you call
I know that something always turns up in the end
I've been my own worst friend.

Like a fool, I was cool
As a rule it works out fine
This time it worked out wrong
Now you've turned, I have learned
And I've earned that which is mine
Why not take me along.

But if pleasure means money, then take it all
I'll make sure I'm out the next time you call
I know that something always turns up in the end
I've been my own worst friend.


Ways And Means

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

I'm as the world forever spinning
Rekindled by the early rising sun
I'm as the road that's ever winding
A never ending journey just begun.

And the wheel turns in my heart and in my soul
The fire burns ever in my head
While others come with lanterns
That will last throughout the night
To follow in the ways where we have led.

She's as the river ever flowing
As constant as the Greenwich clock at noon
She's as the sea that's ever rolling
A high spring tide that rises with the moon.

And today is much the same
As any other day has been
And I think about tomorrow
And while there's not much that I need
To take me further on
There are still things that I borrow.

They are as the wheel forever turning
The heart that gives an athlete strength to win
They are as the fire that's ever burning
The flame that lights the lamp of life within.


You Keep Going Your Way

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

I see you in the mist across the river of the night
You're a shadow of the past that hurts me so
The icy stream of nothing runs before my sightless eyes
But I'm blinded by a driving sheet of snow
In the gutter I can see my lifeblood flowing
Where you cut me down with but a single blow.

So you keep going your way
And I'll keep going mine
And everything will turn out just fine
Yes, everything will turn out just fine.

A spider's web of intrigue, spun in strands of gleaming black
Oh the thousand lies to light the way to you
A bent and twisted scarecrow tells the future of the past
In a field high on a hill without a view
In a moment you had vanished from my dreaming
And I was left here with the chosen few.

So you keep going your way
And I'll keep going mine
And everything will turn out just fine
Yes, everything will turn out just fine.

The sand runs through my fingers as the hours fade away
And the stars they beckon from on high
A team of six black horses rising from the ocean deep
Will carry up my body when I die
The rustle of the pebbles on the shoreline
Reminds me that my time's in short supply.

So you keep going your way
And I'll keep going mine
And everything will turn out just fine
Yes, everything will turn out just fine.


The Battle

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

In the early dawn the Bishops' men
Shivered in the damp
But the shiver came not from the cold
And spread throughout the camp
The trembling horses sensed the fear
Of silent thoughtful men
Who prayed that wives and families
Might see them once again.

The bishops sent a dawn patrol
To investigate the weight
Of forces at the King's command
Ensconced behind the gate
The ground mist hid the patrol's approach
As they drew close enough to show
The sentries on the battlements
And an archer drew his bow.

From the topmost tower a sentry fell
As an arrow pierced his skull
And his headlong flight into the moat
Seemed that of a gull
The patrol reported little
There was nothing much to see
But the strong and silent castle
A symbol of the free.

The King's men took communion
As the first rays of the sun
Lit up the castle's gloomy walls
The fatal day begun
From the castle green the rooks took flight
To the high trees in the east
To their carrion minds the battlefield
Set a table for a feast.

A tide of black, the Bishops' men,
Equality their right
Swarmed like ants across the hill
Their aim at last in sight
The King's men dressed in purest white
Were driven back by force
And the fighting grew more violent
As the battle took its course.

The Bishops gave the order
No mercy to be shown
The sacrifice will reap rewards
When the King is overthrown
The sight of children lying dead
Made hardened soldiers weep
The outer walls began to fall
They moved towards the keep.

The rooks surveyed the battlefield
Their hungry beady eyes
Revelled in the sight of death
Showing no surprise
The pressure mounted steadily
As the Bishops neared the gate
And the desperate King called to his knights
"It's your lives or the State"

When the anxious King began to fail
As many thought he might
The Queen ran screaming round the walls
And urged the men to fight
The Bishops' men were tiring
As the afternoon drew late
And the King's men lowered the drawbridge
And poured out through the gate.

They fought their way across the bridge
The men like falling leaves
Or ears of corn that fall in swathes
The vicious sickle cleaves
The tide receded up the hill
The waste of reclaimed land
Once decaying swamp became
A shore of pure white sand.

A blinded priest was seen to bless
Both dying and the dead
As he stumbled around the battlefield
His cassock running red
If uniform were black or white
His eyes could never see
And death made no distinction
Whatever man he be.

As darkness fell both camps withdrew
Their soldiers slain like cattle
Leaving the rooks to feast alone
The victors of the battle
At evensong both camps reviewed
Their sad depleted ranks
As survivors of the battle
Gave God their grateful thanks.


The Hangman And The Papist

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

The village square stands quiet with the curfew still in force
The streets are even clear of dogs and whores
Like some evil bird of prey the scaffold spreads its wings
The people build their fires and bolt their doors
The mayor is giving dinner to the officers and wives
His eldest son is learning how to fawn
The barrack block is hushed and tense, the soldiers drawing lots
Who will be the hangman in the dawn.

The lot falls on a young man who has served for but a year
His home is in the village close nearby
He shivers at the thought of what he's forced to do next day
He wonders who it is that has to die
The full moon casts a cold light on the gloomy prison walls
The papist walk his cell, he cannot sleep
He hears the waiting gallows creaking just beyond the door
He prays for he has no more tears to weep.

The day begins to break, the muffled drums begin to sound
A crowd begins to gather in the square
The presence of the hangman in his terrifying mask
Weighs heavy on the minds of all those there
The colonel reads the sentence which the papist knows by heart
He has failed to show allegiance to the King
His crime is thus with God himself, in His name he must hang
The papist, head held high, says not a thing.

The jailer binds his hands and puts the blindfold to his eyes
He leads him through the door before the crowd
The hangman sees his victim and the blood drains from his face
He sees his younger brother standing proud
The hangman tries to protest but is ordered to proceed
His trembling hands begin to take the strain
His eyes are blind with streaming tears, he cries for all to hear
"Forgive me God, we hang him in they name".


Hanging In The Gallery

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

Is it the painter or the picture
Hanging in the gallery?
Admired by countless thousands
Who attempt to read the secrets
Of his vision of his very soul.
Is it the painter or the picture
Hanging in the gallery?
Or is it but a still life
Of his own interpretation
Of the way that God had made us
In the image of His eye?

Is it the sculptor or the sculpture
Hanging in the gallery?
Touched by fleeting strangers
Who desire to feel the strength of hands
That realised a form of life.
Is it the sculptor or the sculpture
Hanging in the gallery?
Or is it but the tenderness
With which his hands were guided
To discard the unessentials
And reveal the perfect truth?

Is it the actor or the drama
Playing to the gallery?
Heard in every corner
Of the theatre of cruelty
That masks the humour in his speech.
Is it the actor or the drama
Playing to the gallery?
Or is it but the character
Of any single member of the audience
That forms the plot
Of each and every play?

Is it the singer or his likeness
Hanging in the gallery?
Tongue black, still and swollen,
His eyes staring from their sockets,
He is silent now, will sing no more.
Is it the singer or his likeness
Hanging in the gallery?
Or is it but his conscience,
Insecurity, and loneliness,
When destiny becomes at last
The cause of his demise?


Beside The Rio Grande

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

It happened rather suddenly that the Preacher came to town
With stories from the Testaments of men of great reknown
With his box of patent medicines he swore to cure all ills
From the lameness in the horses, to the children's colds and chills
And he had along his Indian wife and a country music band
Who sang of peace and brotherhood beside the Rio Grande.

Now the Preacher quickly gathered sick and poor from miles around
Who came to him for comfort and to hear his country sound
But the mayor thought he was trouble when he spoke against the law
And he saw the growing power of the crowds that he could draw
And he worried when the Preacher bought himself a plot of land
To settle with his family beside the Rio Grande.

The saloon was pretty crowded and the stakes was a-running high
And the girls sang sentimental songs that made us cowboys cry
We began to criticise the Preacher marrying a squaw
And how could he associate with cripples, drunks and whores
And in a crazy fit the Preacher scattered chips and winning hands
And condemned it as a den of vice beside the Rio Grande.

Now the boys were drunk and rowdy, and mostly pretty mean
And we dragged him to the sidewalk and whipped his shoulders clean
We said he was responsible for bringing on the drought
That had burned off all the spring grass and had wiped the young herd out
The sheriff would not get involved, the law could take no hand
The Preacher had not harmed a soul.

We pegged him on the hillside alongside two Apache braves
Who'd been given picks and shovels and been made to dig their graves
And when he asked for water stood and pissed around his feet
While his tongue swelled up and blackened in the burning desert heat
And someone said we ought to mark the Preacher with a brand
To show that he did not belong beside the Rio Grande.

Then the sky began to darken and a breeze whipped up the dust
And some of us were frightened while others swore and cursed
And the Preacher said a few words with his final dying breath
About forgiving us for what we had done to bring about his death
And as the night began to fall we covered him with sand
And left his weary bones to bleach.


Josephine For Better Or For Worse

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

The years have left their mark
And time must be to blame
To me you're still the same
Josephine, for better or for worse.

I thought that I would stay
Always young and free
But now you're part of me
Josephine, for better or for worse.

For richer, for poorer
To honour and obey
For better or for worse
You're still the same today ... Josephine.

Sometimes our way of life
Has gone against the grain
Yet somehow you remain
Josephine, for better or for worse.


Lay Down

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

By still waters I lay down with the lambs
In pastures green I made peace with my soul
And I cared not for the night
While my guiding star shone bright
By still waters I lay down
I lay down.

Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
For my soul.

At the roadside I took toll of my times
In dirty streets I found peace for my soul
May the merciful be right
Are you ready for the night
At the roadside I lay down
I lay down.

Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
For my soul.

In deep sorrow I took flight with the sun
From mountains high I gained strength for my soul
I proved stronger than the test
When my spirit came to rest
In deep sorrow I lay down
I lay down.

Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
Lay down, I lay me down
For my soul.


A Song For Me

(Cousins)

Old School Songs

Once I was a minstrel boy, I sang just like a bird
I used to trade in memories, I relived every word
But the galleries are empty now, the crowds have all gone home
I locked away my songs, I sang them on my own
I sang them on my own.

Now those who walk behind me have heard it all before
They knew the many reasons I screwed them like some whore
Like jumped-up jacks of all trades they walked with fettered legs
And wondered where the tent went when I pulled out all the pegs
I pulled out all the pegs.

This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me.

The peaceful queen of platitudes sat resting on his throne
His laurel wreath was slipping as he retrieved his buried bone
Ah but I had got there sooner, I had chewed away the fat
While he slept in the gutter, I slept on the mat
I slept on the mat.

This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me
This song is sung for me.


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Lyrics © Copyright stated copyright owner.
All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of copyright owner.
Please do not reproduce these lyrics elsewhere without express permission.
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