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.
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.
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.
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.