My side of your window - Weather The Storm

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My side of your window

Lyrics
      
Michael in the Garden
              
      
Out             in the garden, amongst the bushes, Michael is crying.
            Caught in a spider's web, its broken wings beating, a butterfly            dying.
             And they in their wisdom say
            “Michael's got something wrong, wrong, wrong with his mind”.
            Well, they must be blind, if they can't see what Michael sees.
            
            Michael is silent, talking to no one of things that he sees.
            But out in the garden, he talks in soft whispers, like the wind in            the leaves.             
             And they in their wisdom say
            “Michael's got something wrong, wrong, wrong with his mind”.
            They've seen the signs, but they can't see what Michael sees.
            
            And inside the building someone is calling his name through the            halls.
            But he doesn't answer, though he easily hears each leaf as it falls.            
             And they in their wisdom say
            “Michael's got something wrong, wrong, wrong with his mind”.
            Well they must be blind, for they can't see what Michael sees.
            
            Michael where are you?
            Michael where are we,
            We who see that there's something wrong with your mind?
            
            And inside the garden Michael is smiling, at peace in his world.
            At one with the insects, the flowers, and the trees, and the wind            and the birds.             
           
            Oh Michael sees all
            Behind the high walls
            Surrounding his kingdom,
            Whilst we in our wisdom
            Still trapped in the spider's web
            Far from the flow and ebb
            Of life in the garden
            But Michael has pardoned
            Us for he sees
            That really he's free
            And there's nothing to mend
            For his wings are not broken
            
            And they in their wisdom say
            “Michael's got something wrong, wrong, wrong with his mind”.
            They've seen the signs, but Michael feels fine inside the garden.
             
              
         
      
Clown
                                  The lights have gone dim,               and the people are gone.              
              And clown goes back into his caravan,
              Hangs up his smile on a hook by the door
              And lets his ragged coat slip to the floor
              With the sound of the children's laughter
              Still ringing in his ears.
              Laughing 'cause they're happy,
              They laugh to hide their fears.
              Clown loves the children for, like him, they feel
              The world does not exist tonight,
              And only the circus, only the circus is real.
              
              As real as the elephants that trumpet in the ring.
              Real like the trapeze, see it swing.
              Real like the man who eats real fire,
              Real like the lady on the high wire.
              
              But the people are gone, his identity gone.
              Clown peeps through the windows of his caravan.
              From the trees on the common the town looks so small.
              Clown puts on his coat and goes out the door.
              And the distant neon lights they shine above the town.
              “Looks almost like a circus,” thinks clown.
              Then half with fear and half with delight, shivering, shaking,
              Clown stands laughing, clown stands laughing,
              Clown is laughing at the night.
              
         
      
Girl on a           Bicycle
              Hey little girl on the bicycle, wheels spin like they're riding on              air.
              Hey little girl on the bicycle, wheels flash like the sun in her              hair.
              And the wheels go round but the bike has stopped moving
              Trees on the river move by her.
              
              Hey little girl on the bicycle, sun plays in her hair like a              flame,
              And the river's reflecting her bicycle, and the reeds whisper her              name,
              And the wheels go round but the bike has stopped moving,
              Trees on the river move by her.
              
              Hey little girl on the bicycle, dressed in white, the trees well              in green.
              Sparkling cycling bicycle that moves through the trees like a              dream
              And the wheels go round and the trees stop moving
              Suddenly she is gone.
              
         
      
Father           Forgive Them
Jesus was a man who kept the company of men
              Till he got betrayed by one of them
              And surely that must have been the biggest sin
              But in his final hour, he even forgave him
              And what he asked you then, well I now ask you too
              Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
              
              For they too have their cross to bear
              In your love, please let them share
              For Jesus would have understood
              And brought them home to you.
              Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
              
              Most of us are troubled and we cannot understand
              Anything that doesn’t fall into our scheme or plan
              But it’s we who made the rules, and it’s we must share the blame
              For it’s we who make outsiders, and it’s we who give them names
              
      
And while we’re praying for them, what we really               ought to do
              Is say, Father, forgive them, but please, forgive us too.
              
         
      
All Things Change
The bar is dressed for               Christmas, with coloured lights
              Renee the landlady looks so nice              tonight          
              And the lights flickering, like her smile
              And she still wears her hair in the 1940s style.
              She prefers it that way, though it’s turned from red to grey.
              All things change.
              The only one who looks the same is the fairy on the Christmas              tree.
              
              Big Eddie and his songs are growing old
              The piano player blames his fingers
              Says they’re freezing cold and the tinsel hardly shines
              On the faded paper chains that limply hang in lines
              With the laughter in the air that is breathed and that is shared
              But people change.
              The only one who stays the same is the fairy on the Christmas              tree.
              
              Outside by the wall where snails have crawled
              Leaving tinsel trails shining in the moonlight pale
              Lovers promising nothing’s ever gonna change
              The things they share, breathing promises
              Of cloudy vapour disappearing in the frosty Christmas air.
              
              All things change.
              The only one who stays the same is the fairy on the Christmas              tree.
              
         
      
I’ve Thought About It
                                  I’ve thought about it
              I really have tried
              And the answer quite simply
              Is that they tell lies
              And they’ve got the power
              And what they decide
              Affects your life and my life and everybody’s life besides.
              
              And I’ve thought about it
              Till my brain says “no more”
              I’ve justified their actions
              And I’ve criticised their wars
              And I’ve watched them balance on the edge of the knife
              And it’s your life and my life and none of our lives are safe.
              
              From lack of food
              Thousands have died.
              While farmers burn crops
              Just to keep prices high
              And from that kind of logic
              There’s no place to hide!
              That could be your life or my life or anybody’s life next time.
              
              For the sword of justice
              They can find an excuse
              But her scales have gone rusty
              From not being used
              And no blindfold can hide
              The tears in her eyes.
              For your life, my life, and everybody’s life besides.
              
              And if Jesus came back
              To lead us again
              They’d make sure that he met
              The very same end.
              Though their names have been changed
              They survive to this day
              They’ll take your life or my life, or anybody’s life in their way.
              
              And my guitar protects me
              But that’s not really true
              If you took it away
              I’d be just the same as you
              And though songs never change things
              But they help you decide
              To change your life, my life, and everybody’s life besides.
              
              And they talk about a revolution.
               
              
         
      
Factory Girl
              Hurrying across the bridge before the siren calls.
              This morning she's racing her shadow, all along the factory wall.              
              Then through the gate, where she will wait in line,
              To cross the yard, to clock her card in time,
              And under her scarf her hair set in curls,
              The day begins for the factory girl.
              
              For a while the girls try to talk, but their voices soon drown in              the din.
              Their eyes watch their hands do the work, and a new day's rhythm              begins.
              No change today, like yesterday, the same
              But it’s dinner soon, then afternoon, then home,
              And hurrying home in the fading light
              The factory girl is going out tonight.
              
              Her mother says, “Don't be late, you've got to get up again before              eight”.
              “Yes”, she cries, but there's joy in her eyes,
              As she runs down the path through the gate.
              
              And out on the rainy streets hoping that her night will last.
              No whispering palms on the beach for her,
              Just the swish of the cars going past.
              But she believes no one could feel the same,
              Touching and whispering in the rain,
              But the rain takes away her beautiful curls.
              The night is soon gone for the factory girl.
              
              And hurrying across that bridge before the sirens call.
              This morning she's skipping the puddles all along the factory              wall.
              A starling sings and shakes his wings, she smiles.
              Then at the gate, she hesitates, for a while.
              Then from inside the gates the sirens roar
              And across the yard runs the factory girl.
               
              
         
      
Blues in           More Than 12 Bars
              Billy ran away from home when he was 17 years of age
              Folks swore that he’d land in trouble just as near as they could              gauge
              Cause he was a reckless kid, and everything he did
              Was talked about and noticed by the folks that lived around him.
              They swore that Billy was much too wild
              Ma said, “no, he’s just a child.
              There ain’t nothing wrong with Billy
              That life won’t tame.”
              
              Then Billy hit the new town with a few coins in his pocket
              Thought about his past, but he pretty soon forgot it
              And he walked into a bar, some fella bought him a drink
              And he commenced the drinking until he could hardly think.
              Some guy said “Kid, you’ve had enough
              It takes a man to drink that stuff!”
              And Billy swung around and he laid one on him.
              
              Now the next day in the courthouse, poor Billy felt so ashamed
              He hung his head down low when the judge called out his name
              For fighting in a bar, which was a public place
              He gave Billy a three month sentence, and poor Billy hid his face.
              The judge said “Lock that boy away, give him three months to repay
              His debt to society for lack of sobriety.”
              
              Billy then wrote a letter saying “Mama get me out of here!
              Time rolls by so slow, each day seems like a year.”
              But his mama never got the letter, cos his daddy he read it first
              And he figured that Billy should serve his time, and that would be              the best.
              Now Billy served his time, learning a life of crime
              And thinking even his mama had let him down.
              
              Now Billy got bad habits, drinking liquor that he could not take
              Was in and out of trouble, chasing women that he could not make
              And he was robbing houses, stealing cars, and feeling the blues in              more than 12 bars
              Wasn’t long before he was in the courthouse again
              And this time when they made him free he vowed that he would never              be
              In court or get caught by no one again.
              
              So when Billy then pulled a job, well he’d up and leave the town
              And he robbed around the country till he had enough to settle down
              And Billy used his head, took a wife into his bed
              And he employed some other guys to do his dirty work instead
              And Billy played it cool, and his kids did well at school
              And his life of sobriety was respected by society.
              
              At the parties at his place, all the rich folks came around
              Wasn’t long before Billy was the mayor of the town
              Bankers put up the money, and there wasn’t any fight
              And it wasn’t too long ‘fore Billy had got the town sown up real              tight
              While the money backing him, and the rich friends at his side
              The next step to state governor was as easy as a fairground ride.
              
              And Billy then left his home when he was fifty-six years of age
              To become the President of the United States
              And if you think that is stretching it a little too far
              Just think of this as having been a blues in more than twelve              bars.
               
              
         
      
Kew Gardens
              The air was cool on lily pools,
              Hazy, lazy,
              And here and there he'd stop to stare
              Admiring all the flowers
              Wandering round for hours.
              
              The sun was warm across the lawn
              Scented, blended.
              He saw her linger
              And with her finger open up a rose,
              Standing on tip toes.
              
                                
          Suddenly the rain came flurrying
            Sending the two of them scurrying
            Helter-skelter for the shelter
            And feeling bolder in the big pagoda,
            He gently enquired her name
            And they waited till the sunshine came.
            
            And for a while
            The griffin smiled
            Kindly, blindly,
            Till the evening bell broke the spell
            And sadly they said goodbye
            And one of the griffins cried
            In Kew Gardens.
              
         
      
Wait Until the Snow
                                  How I'd like to run away
              Oh how I'd love to go
              Then I think maybe I will stay
              And just wait for the snow
              To wipe the year from off the page
              I'll pretend I did not know
              But I remember all the words
              And the memory well it won't go
              No it won't go
              
              How I'd like to up and fly
              Almost anywhere
              But I don't have the nerve to try
              And you think that I'd never cared
              So I'll wait until the snow has come
              Yes I think maybe I'll stay
              For I really don't know where I'd run
              And running's not that's not my way
              No it ain't my way.
              
              How I'd like to run away
              Oh how I'd love to go
              Then I think that maybe I will stay
              And just wait for the snow
              To wipe the year from off the page
              And I'll pretend I did not know
              But I remember all the words
              And the memory well it won't go
              No it won't go.
               
              
         
      
Silver Birch           and Weeping Willow
              Silver birch and weeping willow
              Gliding swan and circling swallow
              I’m standing here, watching the sun go down
              And I’m wondering if she will come.
              
              Silver birch and weeping willow
              Heather bed and bracken pillow
              I’m sitting here, watching the sun go down
              And I don’t think that she will come.
              
              Lying here watching the sun sink
              Change the river, turn the swans pink.
              Laying here watching the sun go down
              And I don’t care at all, if she don’t come.
              
                                
Silver birch and             weeping willow.
            La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la.                (Hello)
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