1. GPS Culture

Through seas of countless choices I'm chosen once again
To fill the air with crafted sound....
You give me space, in your space, a window in your time,
At a level which your soul allows

But when I look around,
We seem tired of all this....

We flick the GPS on now to find our pastures new,
Follow directions on the screen,
And find our way to something we never knew was there,
And keep it on our machines.

But when I look around,
We seem tired, uninspired by all we have to choose,
And each day there are more new people at the door,
They wave their products in our faces,
We've heard it all before!

Through dislocating TV and the glossy-printed word,
We sample culture in small spoons,
We think we know that riff but where in the world?
Did we ever hear that nagging tune?*

But when I look around,
We seem tired, uninspired by all we have to choose,
And each day there are more new people at the door,
They wave their products in our faces,
We've heard it all before!

2. The Winning Game

He's travelling the road that others have shown him
He's following the lies that others have told him
His Future's on the brink...
And nothing's ever going to sink his ship

Grabs a working lunch, keeping one eye on the NASDAQ
Driving through the Blackwall on his way to some knock-back
There's no room in his soul
For the people he controls... but never knows

An in his life there's an empty space
He fills with doubt and shame
Then seals it up and destroys the key
And ploughs himself right back into the winning game

She's struggling with the problems that our hero has shown her,
(A few thousands miles away, in a luxury Land Rover)
Her children in the cold
While her life is bought and sold... On tiny screens

And as her value drops, well another one is rising
More fashionable crops for the ever enterprising
The West plays betting games
On the fortunes of its slaves... but never knows

And in her heart there's an empty space.
We take more from, every day.
But we close our eyes and pay no more hees
And plough ourselves right back into the winning game

These Two halves of the problem,
Are joined like the sides of a coin
We see them, we feel them but do nothing
People live in the world that we drive through
It's hard to even know that they're there
We feel them, we see them but do nothing

Still treading the road our education's shown us
Still following the lies that the media has told us
We're chalking up success
While our planet's in a mess... But never know

The campaigners on TV are all just raving "lefties"
With pullovers so dodgy and haircuts from the seventies
So why should we take note
When we can simply cast our vote for "status quo"?

And in our hearts there's an empty space,
We feel its nagging pain
But we take the drugs and damp it down
And plough ourselves right back into the winning game

Life, it seems not much more,
Than a race for an un-named prize
That we accept in some tear-stained ceremony
From people that we despise

And in our hearts we want nothing more,
Than greed and lust and pain
We buy and sell
And we crawl away
To count our ill-got gains

3. In Earnest

The Radio Amateur

Keying his mic' as he searches for life,
A gentle old man sits alone in the dark,
He's scanning the waves,
Looking for memories he can share.

His correspondents collect him like stamps,
Adding his callsign to their trophies and maps,
And none of them wonder just who it is they're talking to,
None of them think to ask the kind of man he was...

"I was a pilot, in a war long ago
and it all seemed to matter way back then..."

And now and then he feels the ground-rush,
As his plane hits the air,
Or feels his ground crew rally round him once again.

Worthy Of Memory Part 1

He remembers everything about flying Spitfires, sending Morse,
The crackle of the radio, the tension of the news reports,
He flew to save his people!
His people do not want to know him now.

He remembers every detail about those sand-bagged days,
But every chapter that came after, vanishes in blurry haze,
He has no great love story, just medals and a glory, gone for good.
He gave his youth – just like he should.

Demobilized

He demobbed in 1945 as the world he'd fought for came alive,
He looked for his friends to find that most of them had gone.
He scanned the radio the next few years, until the last ones disappeared,
When no-one was left, our Earnest looked to pastures new, from his viewpoint,
A mile above the ground,
He looked down on his oyster, green and blue.

Dehumanized

He sits in a hundred countries, counting off his latter years, while...
Leaders sit in panelled War-Rooms, fuelled by their peoples' fears,
They'll find so many willing,
So many, ready to do what he has done

Flights Of Fancy

He remembers smoky jazz bars in the years after war,
The feeling of nostalgia was creeping up and taking over
And after that it all just seemed the same,
How could he ever equal it again?

And in his flights of fancy he's still the captain of his crew
His navigator on the double bass?
Is that Lofty up there with him too?
But it all came down so fast,
And this be-bop won't last
And in his flights of fancy he never even left the R.A.F.
It all came down so fast, and
Earnest only has the past,
He's a hero in November
But all year long he's last in the Queue

Worthy Of Memory Part 2

He remembers something – about a motorbike in Lincolnshire?
A rally –– for Ham Radio?, his kids on a trip?, to Brighton Pier?
His heart is in the 40's
His roaming engines still sport his name...
In Earnest, we all had a friend.

The Silent Key

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Earnest Dreams Of 617

Lifelong memories as he hits the dam
of Bouncing Bombs and slide rules,
Radio cans...
It's Earnest in the cockpit and he'll never know
A moment to compare to this one,
On the Earth... below

Some Crazy Old Guy

Sipping his pint as he sits at the bar
A lonely old man sits alone with his thoughts
Around him we buzz, and never notice that he's there.
He's in the way when we order our drinks,
He's there every night of the week,
Some Crazy Old Guy who tells those stories all the time...
...But he's not with us, he's miles away from here,
In the only past we gave him worth his thoughts.
So we'll never see his Spitfire as it makes its final roll,
And we'll never learn the lessons he was taught.

In Earnest

Don't leave me nostalgic for the wrong things in my life,
I don't want adventures among your grand designs of war!
I'll take a clear morning with the wind in my hair,
I beg you, In Earnest, for nothing more.

4. Forsaken Cathedrals

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5. The Music That Died Alone

Hide in the heart in a secret place,
Spirit locked behind our public face
Lost in our forgotten years,
Imprisoned by our mental peers,

Playing on, through the Ethersphere
Playing on, nothing interferes
And in our own sweet time,
In our darkened homes,
We'll sneak a listen,
To the music that died alone

Played across such jambled staves
Stay through dictated waves
The bar lines slash like red-tape
Across the manuscript of life,
All its melodies are traped in templates,
And designer culture's knives

Playing on, through the Ethersphere
Playing on, even if no-one hears,
And in our own sweet time,
In our darkened homes,
We'll sneak a listen
To the music that died alone.

We hide such high ambition
Behind the vestige of smiles,
Deny such thoughts' existence
With cheap "one liners" for a while
Feeding to the critics,
All the things that might have been,
Who turn ambition to pretention,
To outmoded and obscene

Sell our dreams
to the mainstream's sway
Mould our lives,
to a typecast for today.

We pay people to destroy us
In the media every day
So we'll all know our place and keep it,
And never want to move away..

6. Lost In London

I ended up in London several hours ahead of time,
In the small hours of the morning and they'd even closed the Circle Line,
I'd hitch-hiked it in one lift! The kind of trip of which you dream –
Until one day you don't need it, then you get it!... so it seems.

I wandered in from Acton, even passed the BBC,
Imagining that one day they'd all be interviewing me,
I've got a rendezvouz this morning with Virgin A & R
I'm a hopeful with a bag of tapes, and Shank's Pony for a car...

I'm a Yorkshire Kid in London – and I need lots of space
Winding roads and open fields you don't have in this place,
I'm here to see your empire, is it true what I have heard?
You've got more people here than Sweden,
But it's the loneliest place in the world.

Found an "all-night-cafe" but I didn't stay too long,
I didn't have much money (besides, this was someone else's song)
I saw the aisles of Knightsbridge. I even gigged the Albert Hall!
But in all the hours of wandering, talked to nobody at all.

McEnroe was losing, for the first time which seemed – wrong!
And the Virgin guy was watching while he listened to my songs,
I don't know if he heard them with so much drama on the screen,
But I didn't sign a contract, – it was Andy: "Love-Fifteen!!"

I was a Yorkshire Kid in London, I didn't understand,
All the chaos and the "MIND THE GAP!!!" in your gold-paved business land,
I was so small you could have eaten and never sensed the taste,
I was David, you – Goliath
But my stones just went to waste.

At Brent Cross Shopping Centre, thumb pointing back up home,
A wiser man is waiting for some kindly soul to pull over,
I end up with protesters, who tried to stop a war,
But they went ahead and fought it, and I guess to me that matters more.

We're all Yorkshire Folk in London when it comes to being heard,
We give our all but no-one hears or notices one word,
And thought a million voices tell us not to go and take Iraq,
We still went in, and we still haven't come back.

7. In Darkest Dreams Part 1

Prelude – Time For You

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Night Terrors

Still a slave to the nighttime demons
Still captured by their spell
Looking down into the vortex
To the fires of a sleep-created Hell
Down in the seething mass
You see, though from afar...
... Your one last chance

All's not fair in sleep and war
When you're on the losing side
Placed in battle by your own nightmares
And no one hears your tortured cries
But through the battle lines...
You see, though from afar,
That one defining point of light
That shows who you are

This sleep is not what it seems!
But it's bearing down on me,
Tearing out of me,
Until the daylight comes around.

And this is not the end of the world
Although you sure can see it from here
Nights and terrors blend into blackness
Random thoughts replaced by fears
Called form somewhere
In the back of some lost mind
Comes the drive, the motivation,
In the daylight, dreams are blind

The Midnight Watershed

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In Dark Dreams

Believe it or not, I've been there too,
I've walked the same precipice as you,
And I've looked down...
Through the darkest dreams, cacophonous sounds,
Does it sometimes feel you'll never find the ground?
Still I can't reach you and I can't teach you
You're lost in a dream

Believe it or not, I've walked your way,
I've walked the tightrope that traverses night and day
And I've looked down...
Lost my balance on the spiraling ground
You're clinging on, in whirling blindness,
And I'm just nowhere to be found

If I could be your teacher,
Your guide to what is out there
In the dark dreams of your life
Just reach out for a brother,
Or claim your all-time lover
As you hang there on this knife edge

The Half-Light Watershed

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8. After Rubycon

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9. In Darkest Dreams Part 2

On Returning

Believe it or not, bright lights turn grey,
And the watersheds still join up the days,
As we spin round in the chaos of time,
And the chaos of space

A Sax In The Darkark

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Night Terrors

Still a slave to the nighttime demons
Still captured by their spell
Looking down into the vortex
To the fires of a sleep-created Hell
With all your energies
You see, though from afar...
That one, great, true point of light
That day is who you are

This sleep is not what it seems!
But it's bearing down on me,
Tearing out of me,
Until the daylight comes around.

10. The World We Drive Through

There's a low and distant moonlit plain
Where You And I will walk again,
Looking up, as the light shines through the water to our hearts.
Standing Stones and distant shores
Beckon us to seek out more than what is real,
Discover how to feel, this endless day.

As the city simmers softly,
We're not even there,
We got lost – somewhere

As twilight shifts to semi-dark,
There's traffic caught round East End Park
The journey home with life's catalogue of groans
Is going on – all night
But the fish still swim around those stones
In their eternal home in the minds of those,
Who never could suppose that they weren't real

Let me push you in the picture!
We can swim with the pyramids and stars,
They're right there in the world that we drive through
And if I find a way, to get there some day
I'll let you know

And I think it's strange, it seems so real,
Strange, the way I feel I know this!
Strange, the more we grow, the more our minds will close
So we miss so much of what we were always searching.

These two halves of the problem
Are joined like the sides of a coin
We feel them, we see them, but do nothing

On the Flyover it's hard to blend,
Waterfalls that never end into this world,
It's as though we'd never heard those songs at all
And each morning at a given time,
So many sign that dotted line that leads them where
They seems to waste their days and thoughts

I want to leap into the oceans
Swim with the pyramids and stars
They're right there in the world that we drive through
and if i find a way, to get there some day
I'll let you know

It's there in the world that we drive through
It's there when we look at the screen
It's not in our imagination
Not part of some wild crazy dream
It's all there!!!

11. Skipping The Distance

Waiting in the afterglow.
An aurora fading quickly in the sky
Bearing magnetic north
As the distance unfold and time ticks by
Nut my heading remains constant,
As the Tropics and the latitudes spin round.

Not held down by gravity,
Surfing radio waves like breakers on the tide,
I'm in touch with my A.M. pulse,
Long after all the rest of me expires,
And I become new modulation
As the skip distance grows wilder on every bound

Yes it's some life I'm living!
A hundred miles up there!

Through aerials, on the tired ground
It's a modest life here tied down to the Earth
But i'm thinking head up in the clouds,
Forgetting where I came from in rebirth
And I'm scot-free, in the atmosphere,
There's no-one who can ever hold me down

And it's some life we're living!
A hundred miles up there!
The pull's already caught us,
We're at home in the upper air

12. Fun With The Audience

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13. 21st Century Schizoid Man

оригинал: King Crimson

Cat's foot iron claw
Neuro-surgeons scream for more
At paranoia's poison door.
Twenty first century schizoid man.

Blood rack barbed wire
Polititians' funeral pyre
Innocents raped with napalm fire
Twenty first century schizoid man.

Death seed blind man's greed
Poets' starving children bleed
Nothing he's got he really needs
Twenty first century schizoid man.

14. America

оригинал: Leonard Bernstein
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