I was always a man of few words
For living, the daytime is cursed
I work at night and I think of the worst
I was always a man of few words

Flying high on the upper deck,  waiting on the  view
Down through the shadows
Into your room
The pictures we 
painted 
The colours so true
Calling out
Calling out
Calling out

If I get to resting, wherever that may be
Frozen ground beneath me
Colder than the sound
Of fallen dreams
Catching breath
In the little hours
Calling out
Calling out
Calling out

If I could step over the lines that I have drawn
Maybe I could weaken
Maybe I would talk
And words just come
To speak to you
From somewhere in my heart
Calling out
Calling out
Calling out

A Man Of Few Words

It's not about money
Diamonds or gold
Things to be counted
Things to be sold

The riches and splendor
You can't hold in your hand
Weigh more in the balance
Passing it on

Pass it on my son
Pass it on my son

For all of their titles
Their medals and crowns
They don't mean nothing
If we don't bow down

Our brothers and sisters
Known and unknown
Our hope and the future
Passing it on

Pass it on my son
Pass it on my son

Their flags and their banners
Blood stained and torn
Profit and loss
From the wars we have fought

For they've always a lie
For their forever wars
Time that we ended it
Passing it on

Pass it on my son
Pass it on my son

The oldest amongst us
The bravest and best
Their stories are written
Along with the rest

The flame is still burning
For justice and love
All I was given
I'm passing it on

Pass it on my son
Pass it on my son

Pass It On

Chorus:
From the highest mountain I can see it
It's the greatest city in the clearest light
It's not luck nor fate that I am counting on
I am alive, I am a partisan
Alive, I am a partisan

An empire in chains, and a world at war
There stood one forlorn little rebel boy
Taking blow after blow and refusing to kneel
And I heard him
Before I knew him
And it made me

Chorus

His tears, they fell soft, on the stony ground
For those of ours lost as the darkest night fell
This place that we'd come, it was too sad for words
But I heard them, before I knew them
And it made me

Chorus

A song, from the heart, sung for those who knew
Of the price to be paid, for they'd paid it too
He carried that song, to the end of his days
And I heard it, before I knew it
And it made me

Chorus

Partisan

When the last train crosses over
From the  east side to the west
Hauling carriages that spill their loads
Before they came to rest
I'll step aboard for one last go
Before the certain theft
From  where I was  waiting
In the last seat on the left

It's an hour slow, on the winter clocks
Time to spare is hard to find
To slip away with no-one noticing
Out of sight and out of mind
In the minutes after and before
I might steal the sweetest rest
And I'll be waiting, as always
In the last seat on the left

If I call out while I am sleeping
Catch a word if you can
It might only sound for a moment
But I hope you understand
Rolling on and out to anywhere
Is often for the best
But I'll be waiting, as always
In the last seat on the left

From  where I was  waiting
In the last seat on the left

The Last Seat on the Left

To the Red Rocks and nowhere
From a truck stop and loaded
With a case of cold Bud and a
Head full 
Of dangerous plans

It was a white knuckle ride at a
Speed never felt it
Would end well if he couldn't
Keep to his
Side of the line

And the kindness of strangers
May I sometimes know
To follow my fortune
Until the Red Rocks fall

The preacher was dreaming of
Some old-time sin but
The road to Grand Junction
Don't see many 
Prayers fulfilled

His blessing was something at a
Hundred and ten straight on a
Rocket to Salt Lake with
A pipe 
Fuelling dreams of the dark

And the kindness of strangers
May I sometimes know
To follow my fortune
Until the Red Rocks fall

A song on the sidewalk
Traded for just enough to not
Have to stop drinking
And take in
The state of it all

It was breakfast in Reno
Before I was sober 
Enough to look out of
The window or even to
Open my eyes.

And the kindness of strangers
May I sometimes know
To follow my fortune
Until the Red Rocks fall

Red Rocks

1. 
I watch the first bird rising
With the taste of stolen corn
Above the fields of glory
Still standing from the storm

I walk the path lightly
Keeping to the trodden ground
And the land, as if it was speaking,
Wonders where we are bound

Chorus:
And I don't know where we're going 
And I don't know who to tell
They will take us, if we let them
To the very gates of hell

2.
The eyes of something hunting
Catch the early morning sun
Enough to spook the hunted
To gamble all on one last run

In the breathless moment
When all is dark but the sound
Of a heart pounding softly, as I
Wonder where we're bound

Chorus:
And I don't know where we're going 
And I don't know who to tell
They will take us, if we let them
To the very gates of hell

3.
Watch the wind, now it's changing 
Sometimes harnessed, never tamed
I'd rather keep on moving
Than look for shelter from the rain

The first bird rising
Out of reach of the hounds
As they circle around us
I wonder where we're bound 

Chorus:
And I don't know where we're going 
And I don't know who to tell
They will take us, if we let them
To the very gates of hell

First Bird Rising

Overtime at the dog track
Chasing hares for fun
Stadium lights are dimming now
Failing, one by one

He started out a fireman
In his younger days
His mind wandered from the job
It really was a blaze

He filled in holes for half the year
It surely paid the bills
But nothing he liked more, than the end of the road 
And taking to the hills

Oh the odds are long on the trap I'm in
I wouldn't bet my life on an easy win

He drove a truck, thick with dirt
He hauled from town to tip
With every run, the grime was steadily
Weakening his grip

Nights, he worked a car park job
Among concrete and grey steel
The echoes in the early hours
Made his own voice sound surreal

Oh the odds are long on the trap I'm in
I wouldn't bet my life on an easy win

Overtime at the dog track
Chasing hares for fun
Whistle up a chorus, girl
And to the hills we'll run

Oh the odds are long on the trap I'm in
I wouldn't bet my life on an easy win

Oh...the trap I'm in

Chasing Hares

Lost in the depths of a valley
Where the light is fighting to get in 
It's the last place I wanted to stumble
Upon the little things we left behind
It's somewhere I just want to run from 
As if the better days are gone

Got twisted lines on the palms of my hands
I can't read them anymore
All that's revealed when I flip the cards
Is a story I already know
And when the last sip is from an empty bottle
It's as if the better days are gone

Shuffling the pages of a yellowing book
Leaves gone missing in the wind
And the heroes of the final act 
Are the villains of our age
When the last page says 'once upon a time'
It's as if the better days are gone

I poured cold water on the flames
And waited for the smoke to clear
I paid the fine on some borrowed time
The rest I got for free
And I spent it like there was no tomorrow
As if the better days are gone

As If The Better Days Are Gone

It's not a crime to wait at the stop sign
A red light feeling in driving rain
Dropping gears for a hard climb
Keep working with the grain

With the grain...
Keep working
With the grain 
Keep working 
With the grain

It's not a failing to go slow
On roads rough and unknown 
Contemplating just the next step
As a river passes over stones

Over stones...
A river passes 
Over stones 
A river passes
Over stones 

Take all the time that you need love
Who is counting leaves that fall?
These are moments owed to noone
They're for loving most of all...

Most of all....
They're for loving....
Most of all
They're for loving 
Most of all...

Stop Sign

Haven't you grown
A little more with every time I look away
Haven't you grown
With roots as anchors to the ground 
Haven't you grown 

I forget when it was
The last time I could hold you in one hand
I forget when it was
My heartbeat could send you off to sleep 
I forget when it was

I'll know forever the time
That you laughed out loud or when you took a step 
I'll know forever the time
When your eyes first opened
I'll know forever the time 

The stories and songs
I could still sing them now as they were sung to me
The stories and songs 
I could read them over and over again 
The stories and songs 

Haven't you grown
A little more with every time I look away
Haven't you grown
With roots as anchors to the ground 
Haven't you grown 



Haven't You Grown

My father, now in his late-80s, played and sang throughout my childhood - everything from Woody Guthrie to Mississippi John Hurt and all manner of American, English and Celtic folk in between.

Eventually it rubbed off on me. I taught myself some basic finger picking and, from the age of 14 or so, played around folk clubs in the Bristol and Birmingham areas until my 20s. 

Life moved on and, although I never stopped playing, I wasn't playing enough to get any better.

Decades on, with some time on my hands, I set about refreshing my repertoire and improving my performance. I learned a couple of hundred songs, and finally started to write. 

It's only in the last year or so that some finished songs have started to emerge. Usually, just at the point I'm thinking I've got nothing left, another song pops out. When there's something worthwhile there, the song usually takes shape very quickly.

Songwriting has been a revelation - like an itch that has to be scratched, and hugely satisfying if the itch can be banished! 

My audience may be small, but I'm content that someone, somewhere, has listened. 


Mark Holland