Four Covid Songs

Thanks to Roy Ackerman for the title

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Jack’s been away, twice around the world they say
So long the maps have changed, no more Peking no more Bombay
Jack takes his weather with him in a tin trunk
And underneath his bunk is a bible and solar toupee
The word around the harbourside
Is that Jack will be back at the next high tide
Will he still infect my thoughts
Spawn my hope and feed my pride?

Jack’s coming back, we’ll share a jar for old time’s sake down the Union
Jack’s coming back, so long so far but still he’s the life and soul of the Union

Jack had vowed to change the world 
With rifle cocked and flag unfurled

Jack’s back but he’s not quite the man I thought I knew
Slightly sadder, not much wiser, so much older
What have your triumphs and your glories done for you?
You’re always nervously looking over your shoulder
At the shadows crawling up your counterpane
It’s not a dream, you’re going to see them all again and again
Bracing air, changing light
Shifting sands and slowly falling night

Jack’s coming back, we’ll share a shot for old time’s sake down the Union
Jack’s coming back, but this is not going to be a happy reunion
Jack’s coming back, we’ll share a jar for Auld Lang Sine down the Union
Jack’s coming back, but he’s slipped far out of time
Our Union Jack…

Jack's Coming Back

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

Guitar, bass guitar, keyboards, drum programming and vocals by Brian Quinn

I've crossed every i 
And dotted every t
I've read it fifteen times
For traps and snares for the unwary

You say there must be no delay
And any problems can be sorted out later between us two
Then you do that thing with your eyes – can I trust you?

You can prepare, you can hope and you can do your best
But everybody has to cope with a well-laid plan
That ends up on the fire like all the rest
I know you used to say, this was the only way
That one fine day we could get to the promised land
But nothing, no nothing, works out like you planned

I've pointed out to my lawyers the flaws
That might cause dispute in section 13B
And before it’s executed and shows its claws
I’ve nailed another ambiguity

You say all is fair in love and war anyway
And we all do what we must do
‘til you sign on the line and pay – can I trust you?

You can plot, you can scheme and you can do your worst
But that does not necessarily mean
That your cunning plan won’t play out in reverse
I know you used to say this was an easy way
That one day you would get your fifty grand
But nothing, no nothing, works out like you planned

You can growl, you can swear and you can howl and roar
Entropy is everywhere
Even now it’s knocking on your door
You may pretend you could tell this thing was going to end well
But will you never understand
That nothing, no nothing, works out like you planned?

Due Dilligence

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

Like they say, write about what you know: and in the Lambourn Valley, one of those things we all know about all too well is overflowing sewerage systems...

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

What do we do with all this water?
What do we do with the dirty water?

I’m used to water running from my tap
But flowing free from the lavatory, 
Well I somehow doubt I’ll ever get used to that.

Oh now the lady from Thames Water said “baby, don’t you cry.
I’ve got a scheme, we’ll pump it in the stream, 
And never mind if it’s an SSSI.”
Oh yes the lady from Thames Water said that.

It’s only constitutional – that’s a daily fact.

What do we do with all this water?  It should be flowing underground.
What do we do with the dirty water?  I wish this water would go down.
What do we do with all this water? This is not where it should be.
What do we do with the dirty water? Pump it in the stream or in the sea.

She brought her tanker, her pump and her pipes
I suppose I should have thanked her 
No more dirty water, no more wet wipes.
I was delighted, the neighbours they were too
But now it seems for a mile downstream 
The river’s full of poo poo poo poo poo.

It’s only constitutional
I think we agree
It's a daily fact
The current solution stinks – we’ve got to do better than that.

All this water
What do we do with all this water?

All This Water

For other songs, click here: https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1 

...as it tends to do. For Roger O'Brien, and all who sailed in him.

• Harriet James: additional backing vocals.
• Toby Quinn: additional drum programming.
• Brian Quinn: guitars, bass, keyboards, drum programming and vocals.

I called it something very special
It was merely really something very, very new
Take my life to another level
Address this mess that I thought that I was going through
Oh, love, is bigger than all of us
So I had no doubt
That my angels would protect me
On the day the truth came out

When you’re in love, nothing else matters
When you’re in love, every line will rhyme
Leave everybody else’s lives in tatters
If you say you’re in love, then the world owes you big time

Staying or leaving, I’m going to let fate decide

And so the day came
I never thought it could be so long delayed
When a late middle-aged free-wheeler
Sees the consequences of his escapade
Lies unravelling across the kitchen table
Everyone’s emotions all strung out
Give me just one shot of Tequila
For the day the truth came out

Give me one more shot of Tequila
For the day the truth came out

Give me one more bottle of Tequila
For the day the truth came out

As it tends to do…

The Day The Truth Came Out

For other songs, click here: https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1 

For Nick Symons – and for the rest of us...

Thanks to Chris Clack for wise advice. 

• Backing vocals by Harriet James
• All instruments and other vocals by Brian Quinn

Waiting for the wolf is a lifetime’s occupation
He’ll come some day, somewhere, somehow
Now I see my life as just a frantic meditation
But does all this really matter now?
We were born inside his lair
He’s waited since and he’s still there…

Waiting for the wolf, he’s knocking on the door
Just like he did yesterday and the day before

We do our best to keep the wolf at bay
But he knocks earlier and earlier and earlier and earlier every day

He’s as patient as a statue, as relentless as the tide
He walks one step behind you and he will not be denied

We do our best to keep the wolf at bay
But he knocks earlier and earlier and earlier and earlier every day

Now I’m completely engaged, now he’s got my full attention
My frustration and my rage, he pays no mind to my good deeds or my good intentions
For the first time I understand the way that things must be
And that no one’s going to save me 
From the wolf

And at the end of all things when the wolf finally gets his way
I know that I too had my moment, I too had my day

Waiting for the Wolf

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

All vocals and instruments by Brian Quinn

Oh, the first time that I took you in my arms
I was overcome with feelings that I could not express
So many things came after, all that passion, all that laughter
But I sometimes I think that that first moment might have been the best

When things seem fine they don’t get no work or care
I swear I’ll fix them some time
Life has shown some things need TLC
There’s no written guarantee you won’t be suddenly on your own

I can’t stop my crying when I think of you
I can’t stop my crying when I think of all the things that I put you through

We thought we had it all for free
That the high tide-mark in the sand would always be our friend
Passion may enthral but in time we see
That something more than just a spark is needed in the end
On that you can depend

Time to reflect comes after the descent
So all this love that came and went was wasted through neglect
For want of a shoe a horse was lost
You never understand the cost until it happens to you

I can’t stop my crying when I think of you
I can’t stop my crying when I think of all the things that I put you through...

For Want of a Shoe

For other songs, click here: https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1

For anyone unlucky enough to have gone to Caldicott, or any school like it...

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Here’s the hand of Jesus, there’s the man of God
He tells us it will please us the dirty old sod

When I wake up in the morning there’s someone watching over me
He says ‘your mother must be a beautiful woman’: 
what is that supposed to mean?
Later on in the classroom, je suis, tu es, il est, nous sommes
(Veux-tu coucher avec moi?) He said
‘Throw it on the fire (OK) let’s play strip poker (ooh, sir) let’s get it on.’
And when we’re showering after rugger, rugger, 
Mr Gibson is checking that we’re washing right
Then he points – ‘yes, you boy,’ 
and he’s going to check him out all night

Now it’s time for chapel and remember that we’re 
going to do this thing religiously

It seems obscene, so strange and so ridiculous, 
so mad, so odd that we put up with it
But we were kids, that was how life was, 
we trusted them and they were gods

And there’s no shame or complicity 
That’s what he said
If you’re doing it religiously, 
that’s what he said

I was lucky and I seem to be fairly normal 
(though some of you may disagree)
But there were others and part of them are still caught 
in a childhood prison
That they never, never ought to have seen: 
but they did, and we did
And for them it still goes on and on and on and on
Just like it did then, seemingly eternally

If you want to spend your life 
in a draughty building with a bunch of cruel, 
badly-dressed, over-educated paedophiles 
There’s a job for you at my old school
We're going to do it religiously...

Seven nines are sixty three, veni, vidi, vici, 
Willie, Willie, Harry, Stee, il est, tu es, je suis
Now you’re going to bend over for me 
til we get it right, til you do it right
I can stay here all night, 
Je peux rester ici toute la nuit
Tu va rester ici toute la nuit...

Religiously

For other songs, click here: @brianquinn-1

A song for my parents who believed that, if you have a dream, go for it.

Many thanks to Owen Jones for piano prompting, accordion advice, guitar mix consultancy and general moral and musical support.

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

The Provençal bus to anywhere 
Dropped you at the mairie in Le Rouret
You took his hand in the market square and said
‘We’re going to live here one day.’

This was your time, this was your place, 
Smuggled banknotes were no disgrace
I wish I could have seen the smile on your face
When you saw the Courmette for the very first time

This was the dream you were needing,
Olive trees and cheap red wine
Part of me still lives it
Though I know that it’s not mine

Je me souviens tous tes passions, c’est dangereux avoir un rêve d’occasion
Mais j’étais là, c’est coincé dans ma tête
Je me rappelle la bergerie, La Madeleine et le Bar d’Esprit
Je me rappelle le châpeau sur le pic de la mere Courmette
Je me souviens les wagons-lits, Mme André et tes coups de fils romantiques
A une maison vide, et le téléphone enflammé
Et je me rappelle des vies changées par l’amour
Je me rappelle Le Rouret…

Le Rouret

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

For anybody who's ever tried to fix anything, or anyone...

• Becca, Simon and Owen – real good advice.
• Toby Quinn – additional real drums and additional drum programming.
• Jo Re'em – real trumpet.
• Brian Quinn – vocals, trumpet arrangement, drum programming, guitar, bass guitar and keyboards.


I am the good repairer, the friend of the abandoned things
Like the angel with one wing: I am the man
Who can hold the fragments in his hand
If you take the time to understand the whole of it
All will be well.

I am the good repairer, I set the small things right
The ball that does not bounce or the door that bangs at night
I am the man who has the tools today to mend
The broken things you cast away
On me you can depend.

Some breaks take time to heal, some cracks are hard to seal
Spin it on the potter’s wheel and pray
That the pain will go away...

I am the good repairer, I’m the healer of the damaged sole
The broken heel, I make it whole, re-boot and re-begin: I am here
I make the nightmares disappear, 
Never fear I am the good repairer
All will be well.

Some ills are hard to tend, some wounds take time to mend
I do not always comprehend why or how
The wheels turn sweetly now...

The Good Repairer

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

Many thanks to Owen for the title...

This is for anyone who's ever had a domestic that got a bit out control (ie probably everyone).

• All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Sometimes I come home cold and tired and wet
And the only things which I really desire
Are a big plate of stew, a glass of red wine and you
In front of a friendly fire
But who really knows how any conversation goes
It ebbs and it flows and at times it expires
But sometimes it erupts and we shout and interrupt
And people can get caught in friendly fire

Don’t call it fighting, don’t call it war
It’s just daddy and mummy shouting and biting
It’s our kind of talking – that’s all

The years roll on and so we know each other well
We’re experts at cooking up a special kind of hell
You’re a bore, you’re a bully, you’re a liar as well
And people get caught in friendly fire

Don’t call it fighting, no no, don’t call it war
It’s just daddy and mummy shouting and biting
It’s our kind of talking – that’s all...

Friendly Fire

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

Inspired by Ursula Macfarlane's superb TV film "Untouchable: The Rise and Fall of Harvey Weinstein"

All vocals and instruments by Brian Quinn

There’s a monochrome framed vignette sitting on the glass-topped table in our hall
Plump Victorian profile in silhouette but who you are I’ve no idea at all.
You might have been a public benefactor or what passed for it in those days
Or, more likely, just another bad actor hiding your emotions from the camera’s gaze.

Salacious landlord or generous patron of the arts (I’m just trying to make sense of it all)
Rapacious warlord or convert trying to learn his part: makes no difference
We’re all bad actors at heart.

I’m immune, I’m exempt
Importance and entitlement trumps your puny contempt
If you try to make any kind of dent in my spotless reputation
I’ll make sure you’re certified insane
Don’t you know who I am? I can make you, break you
I draw more water than the Hoover Dam
And after all the litigation, you’ll never work in this town again.

There’s a man, every morning, every evening, brushing his teeth in our flyblown bathroom mirror
He conceals himself with yawning and preening but what little he reveals really makes me shiver
He might be a public benefactor or what passes for one in these times
Or, more likely, just another bad actor trying to implicate me in his secret crimes.

Mendacious highbrow or tender songsmith à la carte (I’m just trying to make sense of it all)
Bodacious cowboy or poet suff’ring for his art: makes no difference
We’re all bad actors at heart.

I’m immune, I’m exempt
Importance and entitlement trumps your puny contempt
If you try to make any kind of dent in my spotless reputation
I’ll make sure you’re certified insane
Don’t you know who I am? I can make you, break you
I draw more water than the Hoover Dam
And after all the litigation, you’ll never work in this town again.

Don’t smirk: I’m talking to you
Just try to put yourself into my handmade shoes
Are you totally sure that you wouldn’t fall, if you were tempted?
My lawyer’s said that he needs a defence
The jury can decide if it’s just more bluff and pretence
Or if I’ve come to my senses, enough is enough
Actions have consequences. 

I’ve come to my senses, enough is enough
Actions have consequences.

Bad Actors

(For other songs, visit https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1)

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Here comes the flood…

Is this the solitude that I needed to finally get things done?
All those letters neglected, warnings unheeded, 
I can knock them off now one by one
But my mind is locked, my thoughts are stopped,  
My energy’s zapped, my imagination’s flopped
Is this this the way it’s going to be?

Spread the fear, I am here every morning, 
With the news I choose to give
It may not be about the life that you wanted – 
But it’s the one you have to live

Water’s rising underground me, 
I’m starting to feel all hemmed in
Self-isolation is all around me, 
I’m just one island in this sink or swim
My mind turns on personal concerns, 
What I can save and what I can earn
Is this this the way it’s going to be?

Lock the door, hit the floor, 
When the strangers come to call
‘It’s all right, dear, we’re just volunteers from the council’ – 
But I don’t know you at all

Delay transmission – I’ve been doing that for so long
Flatten the curve – we’ve got to diminish to prolong
Social distance – will cure me of my malady
Self-isolation – that’s already started happening to me

What a life, what a lonely life this is going to be, solo, so low, oh
‘It’s a war, it’s what I’ve been waiting for, you got to realise, 
We need the esprit de corps of 1944, and obey to survive’

Now we’ve been sent to our room to think about it
Are we really that surprised?
The world’s been churning, changing and burning
For years before my tired old eyes
Life is shifting, everything is drifting
The lock-down fog shows no sign of lifting
Is this this the way it’s going to be?

Spread the fear, I am here every morning 
With the news I choose to give
It may not be about the life that we wanted –
But it’s the one we have to live

Self-isolation

(For other songs, visit https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1)

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Let’s go out dancing, even though you know it’s not my thing at all
Bright lights seem so entrancing
After weeks of staring at the living-room wall

Let’s catch some music and sing along, see if we can still hold a tune
Press me close to strangers all night long
So I can breathe their strange perfume

I need something random, a casual touch in a crowded street
Our lives are lived secretly in tandem
With every other person that we ever meet

I rub my eyes as I wake up from this dream
Of this wonderful place where I’m sure I have been
In this terrible time full of worry and pain
It’s the simple things that will help keep us sane

It's the simple life, the simple things, the simple stuff that I so desire
A picnic in the park, a hug in the dark, telling tall tales round an open fire
The simple life, the normal things, the honest pleasures that I miss so bad
Grieving for the simple little things
Even the ones that I never really had…

Grieving for the Little Things

* For other songs, visit https://soundcloud.com/brianquinn-1
* See also the story, How the Pangolin Got his Scales, at https://pennypost.org.uk/2021/01/a-just-so-story-how-the-pangolin-got-his-scales/.

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn.

I’m going down to Wuhan
They’ve got everything a man could need
Extract of cheetah, sweet and sour anteater
Served on a bed of Covid leaves

So I went down to the market, yes I did
Is there something new to try?
The choices engulfed me, confused me, repulsed me
There’s nothing here I want to buy

We should realise we all have separate spaces
The panda and the pangolin should never be entangling, that’s a fact
In nature’s library we all have special places
If something’s been mis-filed we need to put it back

Are you going back to the market? I don’t think so
Don’t you miss those exotic stalls? I don’t think so
Are you going back to Wuhan, Mr Pangolin?
I don’t think so at all

Let’s go down to Wuhan, get some rare meat on the dinner table
A bit of dried bat faeces and a virus can jump species, just like that
Reproduction, as fast as it is able
Covid’s got a clock but we can’t wind it back.

We should realise we all need separate spaces
Crustaceans and ungulates are hardly natural roommates, that’s a fact
In nature’s library we all have special places
If something’s been mis-filed we need to put it back

Things should be used as nature’s recommended
The penis of a turtleback is not an aphrodisiac
Such actions lead to consequences grave and unintended
By which time it is far too late to turn them back

Going down to Wuhan
Going down…

Going Down to Wuhan

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

Every September and December
My mother sat me down with the Basildon Bond
To write the bread-and-butter letters, “thank you for the sweater
As I write I’ve got it on.”
For quite a time this writing pantomime
Was a right royal pain, but in the end
I saw there’s nothing better than a first-class letter
From a randy lover or a long-lost friend

Come nightfall we all were on the call-crawl
Our pockets stuffed full of 10p bits
Ringing all our mates, I’m afraid I might be late
For a lager in the docks or a gig at the Blitz
The old magic hasn’t quite lost its touch
And part of my analogue heart still sings
When someone wants to talk to me so much
That they give me a ring

So if there was a pinging, a trilling or a ringing
On your gleaming, fancy mobile phone
That was nothing malign, just me on the line
‘cos suddenly I felt all alone
This global disease makes us all ill at ease
So I thought I’d shoot the breeze for a minute or so
No need to worry – I just called to say hello
I just called to say hello

“If you sign for three years this time
It’s a brand new device and free calls to a landline
We’ll email you later, when we’ve synched your data
So the internet of things can call your refrigerator.”
A million devices, packages and prices
Stand in the way of a simple chat
When I pick up the phone I’m never alone –
And you can’t say better than that…

Just Called To Say Hello

(For other songs, visit @brianquinn-1)

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

A complete, common yet unusual man
Doing right in the best way a man can
In crook town, money town, shabby town
Where the streets are dark with something more than night
Little sister, let’s drive down those mean streets
See the twisted sunset with the dusty Galahad of LA
The smell of manzanita, whisky and cigarettes
Farewell my lovely – it’s a long goodbye every day

It’s the pain of hearing the voices crying in the night
Perfume that smells the way the Taj Mahal looks by moonlight
The strain of doing wrong just to try to do right
Look what it’s done to me

And after all this time
The lady in the lake is still needing absolution
An honest man who finds
He gives more than he takes might provide a resolution

Stand with me at the high window
Over Sage Canyon and the busy solitude of LA
Sudden gunfire, eyes full of strange sins
Play back the big sleep, every day

The girl in the bookstore says they're no knights in this game

It’s the pain of hearing the voices crying in the night
Perfume that smells the way the Taj Mahal looks by moonlight
The strain of doing wrong just to try to do right
Look what it’s done to me

And after all this time
The lady in the lake is still needing absolution
An honest man who finds
He gives more than he takes might provide a resolution

Still hiding in plain sight
The lady in the lake still needs her vindication
But Marlowe’s turned out the light
So the lady in the lake has to wait for her salvation

Cheated and betrayed
The lady in the lake stands by her accusation
But since the only honest man in LA
Has had to take a break, she’ll be there for the duration

The Lady In The Lake

As a result of an exclusive interview with Covid...

All instruments and vocals by Brian Quinn

"Going to mutate, going to put my new spikes on
Then I’m going to replicate
I’ve got new protein from the stuff I percolate
And now I feel so strong

"The Daily Mail and the Daily Express 
Say this mutant thing’s going to kill you all, yes, yes, yes
Cancel Christmas, more or less – I’ve got you on the mat
The Sunday Times and Private Eye
Say I’m far too young to classify
They hope I’m just the same old guy, in a slightly different hat

"Everything must change, mutatis mutandis
Change is always strange and I’ll never understand it
Welcome to my new skin

"I'm going to mutate, to make my life a little better
This seems like the time to start
This is an aide-memoire, from the heart
My little letter, à la carte
When’s the last posting date?"

(Good intentions hurt and burn
Hot promises we make we often break ‘em
It doesn’t take much to shake ‘em from the tree
So if the good things return we’ll just take ‘em
It’s what life owes to me, 
Leave all the problems to the next generation)

"Everything must change, mutatis mutandis
Change is always strange and I’ll never understand it
Welcome to my new skin

"All this year is just a second of global time
You can scream and shout and whine 
But I’m not going to disappear
It’s just evolution, my way of reacting
Just an instinctive way of attracting
Attention to the fact that I will always be here
This way of life is not of my choosing 
I’m a survivor I can’t stand losing
Just the code my genes are using so every day I’m new
If the copy’s not great then I start to mutate
Into another novel and natural state
Yes I do it, yes I do it, yes I do it, yes I do…

"Everything must change, mutatis mutandis
Change is always strange and I’ll never understand it
Welcome to my new skin
Welcome to my new skin..."

brianquinn

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