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

Well you could tie my hands behind my back, stick a needle in my ear
Force feed at the highest decibel 8 Foot Sativa
Or Chris Barnes or George Fisher, I could name drop all day
But so many letters, so many words, nothing to say

I lost myself at hello, should’ve quit while I’m behind
Reality there is no such button called rewind
Thirty seconds in already, get to the point and make it clear
The shame is not in failing, it’s in aiming and getting nowhere near

My bad, I should have waited, then again we don’t have all day
But all these letters, all these words, nothing to say

I wish I could say I’ve suffered, I know because I’ve tried
I wish I could say to get me the Gadiantons went fishing nation wide
The truth is I’ve been spoon-fed, tucked into bed safe and warm
Like a Windsor or a Kennedy, sheltered from the storm

But like a Windsor or a Kennedy, curious just the same
To leave the warmth under the blankets and put an asterisk to my name
And when the going got too hard, because of whatever, pressure and time
Went back to bed, put it down to yet another hill I failed to climb

Well they’re sure adding up, if there’s a will I will find a way
But so many syllables, so many words, so little – no, in fact, nothing to say

And only I could blow it

There’s enough of everything
You name it, there’s enough of it
The world don’t need anymore songs
Nobody cares, any idiot could do it

And I stole that from an interview, right there

The heel will never get the love but now and then he scores
It’s the proven way to guarantee the crowds coming back for more
And when the face wins the glory back and sanity restores the game
The dollar bills are banked but I wonder if the heel gets paid the same

Like at the movies, I consider the work that’s left behind
The Oscar winners and losers sure but to me it’s about the times
When I’ve been entertained for entertainment’s sake, and that’s the main factor
Yeah that’s why Gene Hackman is my all time favourite actor

Now the problem with changing subjects while you put them into play
Is realising that after they’re done with, you end up with absolutely nothing to say

I’m just rolling with it

I was given the same agency as you to decide which fruit to eat
And just like you I had to taste the bitter to recognise the sweet
Like we are free to choose joy just like we are free to choose sorrow
Sometimes I even choose the right and let the consequence follow

But that’s no excuse, I realise that’s not what you came to hear
You want to hear a joke or maybe something to make you shed a tear
Hell, anything to get away from the condescending tone of fake authority
My friend of this you can be sure, this song will never make top forty

The teeth are natural, same with the hair, but the accent’s from USA
Because you see I wanna sound American when I’ve got ning to say

Too easy to call it

The melody in my mind was very simple, well, as you’ve obviously heard
Just based on what was going on around my head at the time, a whole lot of words
You know, was no big idea that I had to get out my head, I understood
Just like he said, you could do it through a little pop song, you always could

Yeah I know, I stuffed up the meter and the threw it all way out of time
And took the road most trampled in the case of finding the words to rhyme
Therefore I guess it’s getting close, bring it down and end the clutter
So catch you up, good to be with you, take care and yadda yadda, why did I even bother?

So after the climactic scene, you know the montage where nothing can go wrong
Because the hero suddenly remembered something he should’ve known all along
And maybe the villain talked too much or perhaps some other fatal flaw
Led to his timely demise and led to me clutching for more straws

As to how the hell I’m going to wind this up, it’s overcooked and over-ready
And it’s easily outworn its stay at least three minutes too many
Because if I had to take the blame I’m gonna take it on the chin
And every last one of you can kiss ma ass, that’s right, and then do it again

So I’m gonna stop, hammertime, because I’m on my last cliché
My entire life I’ve really had nothing to proclaim, articulate, declare 
Hell, nothing at all to say

Too Many Words

doolarks

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