500 Miles (Proclaimers)

You slide about
On packed white snow
I walk into town
In search of toothpaste and slippers
You post a streaming video
So that your friends and folks might know
I on the other hand
Remain mute about listening to The Hunter

Once more as before
You bag another Scottish Munro
Whilst for our tea on Thursdays
We have milk-boiled kippers
You sang in abundant joy
At the Portuguese karaoke show
Albeit against a disapproving face
As black as abject thunder

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Reason To Believe (Rod Stewart)

Seriously pink sand
Are we going anywhere
Let me take you by the hand
Let me meet you there
Single golden band
Are we tied to anything
Some words are rather grand
They say so so many things

Roll back
As waves for surfers surf
Add to the stack
With love not mirth
Turn over
As once we are, so so once more
In the clover
As kept always in the store

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Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley)

And so then now why wouldn’t you
Make your own cover version
Nothing of you hidden or given away
By you singing someone else’s song
Not by the words that is
But boy oh boy
What heart-wrenching longing
What tearful soul-suspended despair

For you your minor key was anything but
Heavy with the blanket of a lover’s ache
Heavier with the futility of a lover’s loss
Yes you took yourself to anywhere but
Into those rooms where fools and devils roam
Into those spaces for the almost silent
Except, yes except you heard your own cry
A cry which carried itself into the vast deafness

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Ship Of Fools (Robert Plant)

No one is here now
No one at all to disarm
The seas they are clear now
And soon so soon there will be calm
But first a raucous adventure
Some way beyond the gales
A theatre for rolling and rocking
And for ably going off the rails

No one was there though
No one to hold nor to charm
The tide turned ever so slow
As lips without the curing balm
But yes there was a naughtiness
In so deep it was a new way to fail
The novelty of such intense haughtiness
For a time it matured but then too went stale

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I’m Losing My Mind (Liza Minelli)

Hide away your Lazarus
Your hopes of slight refrain
Cover up your own ambition
With thoughts of nought or nought to gain
Obscure them with the obscurity
That certainty of knowing how to stain
Become purer than pure with such a surety
From the flowing of the flowing of the grain

Don’t you go steal the highlights
On the darkness of the turn
Rather be hidden by the street fights
The starkness through which we learn
Move onwards then endways to your ending
Satisfied with your rustle in the bushes
Rather than it be the opening night
After the final shuffling of the royal flushes

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