A question rings out on the strings
And stirs an answer from within,
So cling on to that sprouting hope 
And race the final stretch till home. 
The wreathing mists will soon give way, 
Forerunner of a blazing day, for sure.

At the junction between seasons, 
Hand shaking as it slides the key in,
A taste of the road in your mouth,
Drawn to the sun that lies further south,
Rip the blanket from your grasp,
Tear yourself out of the past, and go.

How long will it be, till we're alone? 
You know there are places I must show you.

Come warm your weary feet next to the heat 
We'll sit and wait for this to blow through.

And you don't say a word.
You just make your way outside
And move on with your life.

You turn and trace the path you made
And pray its harsh imprint will fade,
With each ascending hairpin bend 
You're pulling taut the last loose ends.
Wild thoughts long left to percolate
Are allowed to see the light of day at last.

Between Seasons

Telescopes

Old Man Of Brunden

Not Over

Stuck In Aberdare

We're The Plankton - Algae Capone and crew

Never Hung Out With A Big Blue Whale

Rabble

Third Man playing Live at The Fleece, Bristol 

Third Man (Live at the Fleece, Bristol)

Live recording of Third Man playing at the Fleece, June 2025

David Urry

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