Rough demo of the first song I ever wrote when I was about 19. Written after a good friend's daughter was still born at 8.5 months and also in memory of the baby my mother miscarried when I was 5 or 6 years old. Lyrics are a bit cheese in places, I was in desperate need of some vibrato, and timing was way off in parts, but it brings back good memories of that time in my life. Bass and 2nd guitar solo by Paul Martin and vocals by Anthony Hills. Dodgy sound quality is because I only had a dubbed cassette copy!

Little Angel

Memory recall.  No idea what was I was doing.  (Recorded in 2004.)

So before I sit down I just wanna say
Grateful to be here, for this beautiful day
Open my mouth, try as I may
Take a memory trip and I'm a do it this way

Start Cambridge, I'm a shut mouth drool
Kids' one hour is the hour I rule
Teacher make me do it, teacher is a fool
Never say a single word in Sunday School

Turn local motion, T.A. style
Empty seats for miles and miles
Sad enough, bad enough to take your smile
That's what I remember as a Sunday child, we sang

Saturday, a special day
Try to run away from Sunday
Don't wanna go to sleep 'cause I don't wanna wake up
I gotta find another avenue to get to the top
It seems the whole wide world's having fun outside
Smiling, happy, so alive
And I'm stuck inside, damn make me cry
Forever and a day I hate shirt and a tie

Moving on, what was once M.I.A.
I know the right choice but I take the other way
See my old man, what a man, nothing to say
The grunt from the front and I'm a gonna pay

(Good ol' school today we greet you... Greasy Joe's, I'm gonna eat you...)

And the golden Crunchie should've come my way
I like the same things then as I do today
And those white brick walls, if they could only say
What was really in my mind after Saturday, we sang

Saturday, please go away
Nowhere to hide from Sunday
If I play the cards right, pull a sicky tonight
Maybe try to break a leg, hey I just might
It's like three whole hours in a prison cell
Not a joy in the world as far as I can tell
And you can sweet bet nine times out of ten
I'm gonna end up with a crack, here we go again

(And then it happened...)

People I loved, family and friends, never see again
What's the point of it all then?

Well turns out we're nothing but delirious
Had enough of trying to be curious
Everything we need is right in front of us
The joke's on me, this is serious

Think you're clued up, thinking you the man
You think I'm a fool, you misunderstand
Before I sit down, I'm a show my hand
Everybody's gotta know about The Plan

Yeah I know I switched, I can tell from your face
I know a four minute pop song's not the place
To be preacher man, hit you man, give you space
I know I should have, but I'm getting through this race

See The Plan, it's the answer, the reply, the retort
To every single question and thought
Harder I tried, harder I fought
I tried to run away from freedom and I'm glad that it caught me

The most important things to me
Trite and predictable as it may be
My life, my love, my family
And the batteries to the remote to the TV

I started where I ended, take a look down
Sunday's still the day I wear a frown
But throw this away, then truly I'm a clown
Hit me on the head and listen to the sound, it goes

Saturday, slow it down I say
Even now I'm not in love with Sunday
As much as I wanted to give it all up
I realise there's no other way to get to the top
And I guess that means that I must be keen
Simply put, at least I'm aiming
If I fed you more than you can chew
You got a problem with that, you know what you can do, sing

(Saturday, stinky day...)

Passed it on for free, my son is Mini-Me
If I gotta stay then so does he

My shirt and my tie will always look a wreck
Another reason why I wish I had a neck

A solid seven on a boredom scale one to ten
Another seven days I gotta do it again

At least I'm looking forward to Sunday roast, it won't be long
Too bad nobody remembered to turn the oven on

Church Talk

doolarks

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