I Don't Wanna Know (by John Martyn)

I don't want to know about evil, I only want to know about love
I don't want to know about evil, I only want to know about love

Sometimes it gets so hard to listen
Hard for me to use my eyes
All around the gold is glistening
Making sure it keeps me down to size

I'm waiting for the planes to tumble
Waiting for the towns to fall
I'm waiting for the cities to crumble
Waiting to see us crawl

Yes, it's getting hard to listen
Hard for us to use our eyes
All around the gold is glistening
Making sure it keeps us hypnotised

I Don't Wanna Know

Place To Be (by Nick Drake)

When I was young, younger than before
I never saw the truth hanging from the door
Now I'm older, I see it face to face
Now I'm older, gotta get up clean the place.

And I was green, greener than the hill
Where flowers grew and the sun shone still
Now I'm darker than the deepest sea
Just hand me down, give me a place to be.

And I was strong, strong in the sun
I thought I'd see when day was done
Now I'm weaker than the palest blue
Oh so weak in this need for you.

Place To Be

Everyone Sang (poem by Siegfried Sassoon)

Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on - on - and out of sight.

Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun:
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away ... O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

Everyone Sang

Laika

They're dealing in the back alley
So spoilt for choice it beggars belief

My daughter, yards away asleep
I hope I can give you what you need

Dealing

Take Care, Ron (of Tony)

Some days undone from the salt and earth,
Nonsense I hear you say,
A stitch in time

How's our Petey? 
Must be lovely having him again?
Keeps hitting home now and then for me

See you for Countdown,
We'll drop his grandad round on our way in

Here's to lost boys,
Here's to downing tools in the Endwood,
Just as we always would,
But this one's on me,
My jar tipped to sweet Mary,
Some days undone

Some Days Undone

I woke up today, the weight off my shoulders
Woke up today, unburdened by time
Safe in the arms of my partner and daughter
Just easy and alive

It's not every day, we can breeze through the motions
Not every day, but once in a while
You let the world go and it's happy to hold you
Just easy and alive

Easy

Bumba-Leo

O the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom,
The broom o' the Cowdenknowes.
Fine would I be in the North country,
Herding her father's ewes.

How blithe was I each morning to see 
My lass come over the hill.
She skipped the burn and ran to me, 
I met her with good will.

We neither herded ewes nor lamb
while the flock near us lay.
She gathered in her sheep at night
And cheered me all the day.

Hard fate that I should banished be,
Gone way over hill and moor,
For I had wooed the fairest lass
That ever yet was born.

Farewell ye Cowdenkowes, farewell.
Farewell all pleasures there.
To wander by her side again
Is all I crave or care.



The Broom O' The Cowdenknowes

Somewhere missing ever after all,
My unknown, all my unknown.
Home-hitting, thundering down my window,
All my windows

And you know, 
Just know.


Unknown

I want to be a part of the moment,
I want to be apart.
You know how it goes.

The Moment

Up went the ball from the hurley-peaked hill brow 
- I know what a hurley is now - 
Slow motion in my Grandad’s wing mirror, up and out of view, 
I whip-pan to the sunroof and it’s double-speed on the way down. 

I love at the football when, naivety waived, 
me and half the lower-upper tier clutch skyward, 
rising and falling to the ball’s arc as it’s lumped clear, umpteen rows away. 
And we’re all thinking
        He meant that for me, bless him.

Conversely this sliotar, that’s what the ball’s called now,
now that it’s coming down, 
has me cowering.

Grandad and his DeLorean-doored Honda. 
It’s like Back To The Future but we’re in Ballycastle.
Me and a hailstone of unknown culture and unspent years, 
some fifteen or so, some half a lifetime ago.

Granny wants to cut my hair not long before I’m balding, but who’s to know. 
I’m scared but still steal her rollies. She swears the river’s Guinness. 
My big brother can’t get served. 

And I wonder if that sliotar ever came down, 
or another wonder-stricken stranger felt the sound
I must have missed, as it nearly-missed. And Grandad didn’t flinch.

Ballycastle

The Final Trawl (by Archie Fisher)

Now its three long years since we made her pay
Haul away, my laddie-o
And the owners say that she’s had her day
Sing haul away, my laddie-o

So heave away for the final trawl
It’s an easy pull for the catch is small

Stow your gear up and batten down
And we’ll say farewell to the fishing grounds

We’ll join The Venture and The Morning Star
Riding high and empty beyond the bar

For I’d rather beach her on the skerry rock
Than to see her torched on the breakers dock

And when I die you can stow me down 
In her rusty hold where the breakers sound

And we’ll make the haven, The Fiddlers Green
Where the grub is good and the bunk are clean

I fished a lifetime boy and man
Haul away, my laddie-o
And the final trawl scarcely makes a cran
Sing haul away, my laddie-o

The Final Trawl

Let me know, fairweather friend,
If you reach some new horizon,
If you find yourself so far from home,
All’s not lost here, we just keep going.

Come and go fairweather friend
And I’ll keep warm the cold harbour
Should you lose yourself
I’ll be your beacon, I’ll bring you home.

Fairweather Friend

Adam Jackson-Nocher (guitar/vocals/drums) & Donal Sweeney (instrumentation). 

All songs written by adamjn, apart from Good Ale (traditional), The Final Trawl (by Archie Fisher), I Don't Wanna Know (by John Martyn), Place To Be (by Nick Drake), Nobody's Fault But Mine (traditional), The Broom O' The Cowdenknowes (Archie Fisher/traditional).

Produced by Donal Sweeney (home demos by adamjn).

Adam & Peter Hayes: www.soundcloud.com/adam_and_pete

Sketchbook: www.vimeo.com/adamjn

adamjn

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