Spiral staircase - Weather The Storm

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Spiral staircase

Lyrics
Streets of London
Have you seen the old man
In the closed-down market
Kicking up the paper with his worn out shoes?
In his eyes you see no pride,
And held loosely at his side
Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news

So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine?
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

Have you seen the old girl
Who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.

Chorus

In the all night café
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old man is sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home alone

Chorus

And have you seen the old man
Outside the seaman’s mission
Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears.
In our winter city,
The rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero
And a world that doesn't care

Chorus

Mrs. Adlam’s Angels
Sundays as a rule, us kids went to Sunday School,
And Mrs. Adlam said angels stood round our bed
To keep us safe from dark, right through till day begun,
And we used to lie awake just to try to see one,
And though we never saw one anywhere
We heard them softly singing in the air.

Sundays occasionally we were invited back for tea,
And bread with jam and cream made Sundays seem a dream.
In the dingy mission hall, Mrs. Adlam praying,
And down the street back home, all our mates were playing,
With Mrs. Adlam's angels everywhere,
And we thought we saw a halo in her hair.

Sundays for sure, ain't like that anymore,
Its getting hard for me, to see her face in front of me.
I wonder if her angels have their arms around her curled,
Keeping her safe from life, and guarding her from the world.
On a summer’s Sunday evening do I dare,
To hear Mrs. Adlam's angels in the air.
 
England 1914 (The Lamplighter)
Night stirs her inky finger in the water of the day,
The tired sun drops slowly in the sky
And everywhere the gentle air hangs heavy with the day-song
Evening calls the lamplighter to come

Children's wooden hoops go clattering down the street
Soon they're called inside, it's getting late.
The brown canal now splashed with red reflects on swallows’ wings.
The lamplighter knows the song the evening sings.

But the gas-lamps stand like soldiers hiss warnings to the wind
Their evening vespers prophecy of war.
The world divides and men take sides,
The spark bursts into flame,
Nothing can be quite the same again.

A dog barks in the distance, child cries in her sleep
The night waits for the dawn with baited breath.
The old school, the old rule rung out on a muffin man's bell
The lamplighter has made his nightly call.

Dreams of hope and peace sent clattering down the streets
Empty like the promises they’ve made.
The wars rage on, and if I’m wrong, will someone please explain
That peace is not the lamplighter, cos he's not coming back again.

Last Train and Ride
When I told you I was leaving, you didn't believe what I said.
You just went right on sleeping, and rolled over in your bed.
Now were you surprised to open up your eyes,
And find that I had moved on.
Oh, Honey your loving man has packed all of his things,
And taken that last train and gone.

You can't say I didn't warn you, I told you 'bout a hundred times.
You had fifty-seven ways of being mean to me, fifty-seven varieties like Heinz
But now I've had enough of that same old stuff,
And so I'm moving on.
Oh, Honey your loving man has packed all of his things,
And taken that last train and gone.

I really hope you're feeling sorry for all the times you made me cry,
Oh, you could've made life so much easier Babe, but you did not even try.
So see you around but not in this old town,
Your man is moving on,
Oh, Honey your loving man has packed all of his things,
And taken that last train and gone.
He has, taken that last train and gone.

Fairground, The
Standing alone in the fairground at night
The world racing past on the streets
Only the stars and the headlights of cars
Light the fantasy world while it sleeps
And I looked around but there wasn't a sound
But the cinders under my feet

Candy-floss sticks spelt words on the ground
I tried to read them in vain.
Before it was clear the wind blew my hair
And re-phrased the sentence again.

I stopped to light my last cigarette
The fair was lit up in its glow
I threw it away but the light seemed to stay
Like moonlight shining on snow.
And I hardly dare breathe
I just couldn't believe
Then the music started to flow.

Slowly everything started to move
'Cept me and I stood quite still.
Then came a soft cry near the coconut shy
Will you take me to ride on the wheel.

And around and around the big wheel went spinning
Round and around until I noticed
Although the fairground was moving
The rest of the world stopped still.
It was then that I realised that I'd have to get off
Although I would've much rather stayed.

Then with a jolt the wheel came to a halt
And the music started to fade.
As the lights went dim my head started to spin
Told myself that I wasn't to blame.

Looked at the ground at the candy-floss sticks
Now the message was plain
Behind me the wheel and the fairground were still
And outside it was moving again.

Spiral Staircase
I'm running up a spiral staircase,
Drilling a hole in the ground.
And the staircase is winning,
And my head is spinning,
And I don't even dare to look round.

I'm running up a spiral staircase
I can’t reach the top.
I’m running up a spiral staircase
And I’m too scared to stop
And there’s nothing anybody can do
To stop the staircase, like a giant corkscrew,
From spinning around and around and around.

Now in the beginning I only saw you
When the staircase hit your vision line,
But now that it’s moving around so fast
Well I can see you all of the time.

I’m running up a spiral staircase
I can’t reach the top.
I’m running up a spiral staircase
And I’m too scared to stop.
And there’s nothing anybody can do
To stop the staircase, like a giant corkscrew,
From spinning around and around and around.

Now in the beginning it was moving so slowly
I never noticed it at first.
But now that it’s moving round so fast
I think my head is gonna burst.

I’m running up a spiral staircase
I can’t reach the top.
I’m running up a spiral staircase
And I’m too scared to stop
And I believe I’m gonna shoot through
Unless the staircase, like a giant corkscrew,
Stops spinning around and around and around.

Now without a doubt I’m a-wearing out
And I’m really beginning to tire
And though the staircase is steel it just about feels
As though it’s gonna catch on fire.

I’m running up a spiral staircase
I can’t reach the top.
I’m running up a spiral staircase
And I’m too scared to stop
And I believe I’m gonna shoot through
Unless the staircase, like a giant corkscrew,
Stops spinning around and around and around.

Bright and Beautiful Things
Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet,
Eating her curds and her whey,
And along come a spider and sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Oh, what a shame.
Oh, who do you blame?

The spider soon finished his web
And the rain come down, and hung it with diamonds
And a bird flew along and with the stroke of his wing
Broke the web, he ate the spider.
Oh, what a shame.
Oh, who do you blame?

The bird flew up high into the sky,
And the sun lit the tips of his wet wings with fire.
And a man with a gun shot him down to the ground,
And then went home and sung in the choir.

Daddy’s Here
Footsteps down the stairs and at the door
Pausing in the hall and at the door
Cos I know Daddy's here
I can tell that he's there.

And that means she'll be glad
Until we're in bed then she's alone
For there are things they have to say
And we are sent away.

Mama, the room is cold and he is scared
I am too, and you're not there.
How could we know you'd only took a walk
To a neighbour for a quiet talk.

Sunshine's dying flicker on grey stone walls
Outside in the hall the old dog growls
And we're in bed playing guessing games
Telling stories, making plans.

Radio, celery and Sunday tea
It is nicer here, just us three
And I know he won't come again
There is no need to explain.

Terminus
Finally the moment has come and here we stand,
And all the words have gone, along with all the plans
And though the hands are surely moving on the clock,
For us, this moment, time itself has stopped.

Our early morning eyes still feel a little sore
And bodies sweetly aching from the night before.
I can feel the cold platform through my shoes.
There must be something to be said, but what's the use.

The wind picks up some paper, blows it passed our feet
We watch it, grateful, that our eyes don't have to meet.
A screaming whistle rips the air
And takes away the last seconds we have shared.

In still photographs the train begins its run
And suddenly all the words I should've said have come.
Someone touches me and asks me for a light,
And wonders if I'm feeling quite all right,
And I say, "Yes".

On another platform, there's a train.
The same old scene is to be shot again.
The wind picks up some paper, and with it I shall ride
Out through the door marked ‘exit’ into the world outside.

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