Not till tomorrow - Weather The Storm

Go to content

Main menu:

Not till tomorrow

Lyrics
Zimmerman Blues
I get a little sadness now, just now and then
It comes to remind me, what it was like when
I was out on that road, happy, hungry and cold
First you win and then you lose.

Oh, Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues.
Oh, Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues
Oh, Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues
Oh, Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues.

Don’t get me money now, if it’s bad for my head
You can keep the honey now, put something else on the bread,
To lose all them old time friends, who missed how they were making it end
And we all wound up confused.

That’s what you call the Zimmerman blues.
That’s what you call the Zimmerman blues.
That’s what you call the Zimmerman blues.
That’s what you call the Zimmerman blues.

Do a concert for Angela, build a building or two
It gets harder for me, but easier for you.
As sure as the stars turn above, all we ever asked for was love.
And I think that we’ve all been used.

Ending up with the Zimmerman blues.
Ending up with the Zimmerman blues.
Ending up with the Zimmerman blues.
Ending up with the Zimmerman blues.

I get a little sadness now, just now and then
It comes to remind me, when I called you a friend.
So where do we go from here?  For me it won’t ever get that near
And if it did I know what I would choose.

Anything but the Zimmerman blues.
Anything but the Zimmerman blues.
Anything but the Zimmerman blues.
Anything but the Zimmerman blues.

First Song
I've written words that say I'm leaving.
Words express the pain.
Old songs lose young meanings,
But new ones they gain
From changes that I've been through,
And what I’m coming to
You were my first song,
And I still . . .
 
Sure I still get feelings
To get back on the road
And I still get leanings
To forget the things I know
About myself and changes,
Gone through and coming to
And you were my first song
And I still . . .

Do words express true meanings?
I mean the words are still the same
Old loves lose young feelings,
But new ones they gain
From changes that I've been through,
And new ones I'm coming to
You were my first song,
And I still . . .

You were my first song,
And I still...........

Yes, you were my first song,
And I still love you.

When I Was a Cowboy 
I was a cowboy, back in the alley.
Me and my six-gun kept law on the prairie
I remember my first horse well, he was lean but a fast one
We travelled miles together, till he got stolen.
 And the sheriff said get early to bed
And always keep your hat screwed on real tight
Case you get in a fight.
Well that’s one of the tricks that you must employ
If you wanna be a cowboy.
I travelled far from home,
even jumped freight trains
Threw stones in the ocean,
 slept out in the cold rain.
 It was down in some southern town,
and the music was playing
 And the people were talking so loud,
they heard no words I was saying.

Chorus

 I dreamed of a mountain,
with one lonesome rider
He was ragged and tattered,
but he carried a sabre.
And all through the canyon
you could hear his bones rattle.
He was dead on a dying horse
and he was tied to the saddle.

Chorus

  I was a cowboy, out on the prairie.
Life sure is easier, back home in the alley.

  Chorus 

Nettle Wine
In my country garden, underneath the mountain 
With the dead nettles growing all around the door
Early every morning the sun comes up the mountain
Setting in the sea in the evening once more.
Taking water from the brook, wondering who it was that took
The stones from the mountain, who built his cottage here.
Two up and two down, miles from the nearest town
I wonder who he was though the reason why is clear.
Take a bunch of nettles and add a little water
Drawn from the stream running outside the door
Leave it for a month or two, then bottle it and drink the brew
Then watch the suns go down in the sea once more.
Take in wood to build a fire, could you really get much higher
Than standing in the doorway with a glass of nettle wine?
My lady beside me, the mountain behind me
Before me the sea and the red skyline.  

Sylvia
Sylvia, does it help if I say I feel for you?
And I think it was the one about the tulips
That did it - that did it. Oh and isn't it a shame
You had to go through so much pain To help someone that you never knew.
Sylvia, it doesn’t help if I say I've been down too
But there’s always been someone I could turn to
Why not you - why not you?
And though seldom they could share
It was knowing they were there that pulled me through.
It seems there are a few
Who can say it for the many
And maybe one or two
Who can say it for the few
And one of them was you.
Sylvia, don't get me wrong if I say I see through you
And before my colours turn darker than blue
Oh what can I do- what can I do?
Oh it just seems so unfair that through sadness and despair
You help someone that you never knew.

It seems there's one or two
Who can say it for the few
And maybe just a few
Who can say it for the many
But that can't help you any.
Sylvia, it doesn't help if I say I've been down too
But before my colours turn darker than blue.
Oh what can I do- what can I do?
Oh and isn't it a crime that you lose out every time
And help someone that you never knew.

 Birdman     
You can kill me if you can
But the last thing you need’s another dead man.
Writing with black ink on your page
And I swear that death won’t kill my rage.
 
For it’ll take more to hold my tongue
Than your prison and your knives and your clubs and your guns.

I don’t want no peace prize
I will not do what you say’s wise
I’m a birdman but there’s no cage
That’s strong enough to hold my rage.
 
Chorus
 
Now John Henry told his captain,
That a man ain’t nothing but a man
But before I let this machine grind me down
I’ll die with my hammer in my hand.

So the birdman told his jailor
A man ain’t nothing but a man
But before I let your system grind me down
I’ll die with my gun in my hand.

Chorus

Those bells do ring, ding dong ding
And I don’t fear no guard.
When freedom come maybe with a gun
Outside in the prison yard.
 
I’m a birdman, oh watch me fly.
I’m a birdman, death, sweet death,
She can’t hold me.



 Barges
Me and my brother returned to the water I saw a pike that was two feet long. Two small magicians, each with a jam jar Cast spells on the water with hazel twig wands.

Countryboys catch tadpoles, dive into water Made shy by their laughter, we wandered down stream And summer rolled o’er us with no complications ’Cept thinking of Mama sometimes in dreams.

Stand by the drawbridge, waiting for barges Waiting around for smiles from the man. Lifting the bridge whilst watching the horses Dragging the slow boats up the canal.

I do remember the times but no number After the day, but before evening comes Waiting for castles and kettles with roses Painted on barges that sailed into the sun.

Oh, see the river run, that was by man begun
Open the locks, let the boats sail on, Taking their castles and kettles with roses With summers of childhood leaving smiles on the man.

 Standing Down in New York Town

				
				
Hey, buddy, can you spare me some change? Me and my lady trying to get back to Detroit They’re ripping off the customers and tearing the buildings down. The ship seems to be sinking, and everyone’s moving out.
But maybe it’s just the way I feel For some have been so kind Maybe it’s just that I’m far from home And you, and you and you, been on my mind
Faces in the curtains whilst the sirens were screaming Disturbing the dreaming that I had without sleep Hustlers on the block taking every cent I got So it’s dollars for the barman to give my mind some ease.
Chorus
Someone has bled an angry slogan on the wall Just across the street from my luxury hotel And the letters are so big that from close up you cannot read them But I’m high up in my room and I can read them very well.
Chorus
Hopalong, the Bowery Boys, and all my cowboy heroes Saturday morning picture memories floating in the air “Give my regards to Broadway,” said a grey-faced statue Who was obviously stoned to be standing in that square.
Chorus

Another Rain Has Fallen
Another rain has fallen, and I am the ploughman, and I love the rain.
And another rain has fallen, and I am the ploughman, and I love the rain.
For the rain will soften all my ground
And make the plough cut perfectly
The earth is ready for the seed
And a little rain is all I need.

And another rain has fallen, and I am the sower, and I love the rain.
And another rain has fallen, and I am the sower, and I need the rain.
For the rain will make the seed to burst
Begin its life and take firm root
To grow the crop to swell the grain,
It must have a little rain.

Another rain has fallen, and I am the reaper, and I watch the sky.
For another rain might fall, and I am the reaper; I must watch for rain.
For now I really need the sun
To reap my good crop that has grown
If the rain falls now my crop is lost
And I’d be left to count the cost

Of another rain falling, and I am the lover, my tears like rain.
And another tear has fallen, and I am the lover, and I have cried again.
And I have ploughed, and I have sown,
I have guarded, I have loved,
And like the farmer I must blame my gamble cost and loss
On another rain.
 


This Time of Night
Thank you for the party and I thank you for the wine
I think I better get along now, I know it’s time.
And maybe you were wrong and maybe, maybe you were right
But I won’t talk about it now, this time of night.

About what happened, well, what can I say?
‘Cept it was bound to happen sometime anyway
And you want me to say I’m sorry
Well, alright, alright,
But I won’t ask forgiveness from you now this time of night.

See, my friend, I been laying it down on the line
About what happened, well I don’t blame the wine
And if I stick around much longer you’d be asking me to fight.
And that would not solve anything this time of night.

Oh, my friend, I don’t expect you to see me to the door
And I don’t suppose you’ll see me Coming round here much anymore
And do not feel, oh do not feel you have to say good-night
It’s much too late for words like that right now, this time of night.
 


Gypsy
Our fathers out of India come
And stopped where they found water
And the gadgo boys with their greedy eyes
Coveted our daughters, coveted our daughters.
And the moon shone into the seas across the palms with silver
There was music that night in the dark campsite
And the music made you shiver; to be the gypsy.

Across the deserts our fathers come
With dancing boy, and bear, and drum
And the gadgo boys with their greedy eyes
Coveted our freedom, coveted our freedom.
And we fit in your landscape as the sixth to the five senses
But the pastures close as the cowboy knows
And the world’s cut up by fences, to catch the gypsy.

And the colours fade on the caravans
And old roads bend in change
And the vigilantes move us on
But still we do remain, and while we do remain
Your ways only keep us on the paths we have chosen.
When it’s cold at night, and the fire won’t light
And the children’s hands are frozen, and it’s hard to be the gypsy.

Oh, the fire that burns, the cage, the key, the dancer of delight,
The flame that burns behind your eyes
Yet flickers in your sight, flickers in your sight.
And you may die of cold because the ways that you have chosen
Has warmed your hands, but not your heart and left your poor soul frozen.
Let the gypsy dance.

Now if the gypsy cannot dance, in your heart you may discover
That the flame needs air to burn, and soon it’ll be all over.

Back to content | Back to main menu