BROTHER CAN YOU HELP ME 

I was younger than the mountain 
And much older than the tree
I was leaping from the Ocean 
When you crawled out from the sea
I was ancient when you learnt 
To light the fire and work the ground 
I had a million years of History 
Before you began to hunt me down 

Brother Can you help me 
For I know you hear my song 
I’m sad and I am weary 
I don’t know what I done wrong
For you hunt me and you kill me 
And there’s nowhere left to run 
Ah Brother can you help me 
For there’ll be silence when I’m gone

I was there when Jesus walked upon 
The sea of Galilee
And when Rome it burned ah the earth still turned
I swam wild and I was free
I was innocent and wild eyed 
When you set foot on Virginia’s shore 
And I laughed and cried as so many died 
In your endless crazy wars

Brother Can you help me 
For I know you hear my song 
I’m sad and I am weary 
I don’t know what I done wrong
For you hunt me and you kill me 
And there’s nowhere left to run 
Ah Brother can you help me 
For there’ll be silence when I’m gone

13 Brother Can You Help Me

REFERENDUMB
	
	Where lies this Country you speak of so fondly 
	Is this the state we chopped off Charley’s head to create
	Are these false debating monarchs of Suburbia the true heirs to our magic kingdom
	Kings and queens of all they survey and yet the unspeakable future lies unsurveyed 
	A new National Lottery of whim to the the wind of fate 
	A play unwritten, uncast, untested, untried 
	Ah but the darkness beckons us all at times 
	and therein lies a morbid temptation to jump 
	When Its tea for two in a two up two down 
	with all our enemies faithfully gathered round
	Beelzebuub whispers “jump, jump” 
	for the devil is not behind but in the detail 
	And in our embezzled minds twisted by 
	constantly battling lies and rapture 
	Lies the Holy Grail of Sainthood 
	our nations flag to capture
	The Queen and everything Holy 
	“Is this the place you mean”??
	Here where stands the clock that stood where time stands still
	Where as children above the town upon the hill we played 
	and stood down our childish armies to dream of 
	a land of lost contentment far beyond the Division Bell
	Those ever present chimes that dull the mind and sooth the sense
	In our minds eye it was ever thus imagined 
	and so its own truth become
	Footie in the street , gambols on the green
	But the clock has ticked and played its merry joke
	an age of change is worn as a heavy yoke 
	All that was good is memory disenchanted 
	is this the Country you speak of so fondly 
	is this the motion that conference granted?
	Is this the clock that stood where time stands still?
	The mechanism moves us to tears 
	The grapple and grind of moving gears
	And what was once innocent is now lost 
	and all that was value now bears a cost 
	We sell our soul for the price of fame
	to see others terrible lives ripped from the frame
	of TV and social media page
	In our withering anger and gunfire rage
	is this the country you speak of so fondly?

REFERENDUMB

Forty Years

40 years in the making 
Look what has become
40 years in the breaking 
Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun
40 years in the making 
We struggle to survive 
40  years in the breaking 
you ‘ll never leave this place alive  

Jimmy ain’t no dreamer 
He was a good hard working man
Oil and grease his stock in trade 
and he always had a plan 
He’d work and strive and scrimp and save 
And one day he’d be gone 
To live in peace down by the sea 
In the shadow of the sun

But fate transpired to rob him 
of everything he owned
The world is dark and twisted
Bad harvest for the good seeds you sowed
Almost worked himself into an early grave 
and all his  future plans were lost 
SOS to save our souls 
nothing left but to count the cost 

His son is tired and homeless 
Dirty down dead beat   
Steals for drugs and money 
Living out on the street 
No future in the future 
Man and boy the time has passed
On the road to hell and back
40 years ago the die was cast

Nothing certain in this life but 
death and tax you can be sure 
Drink and drugs and living life 
Sometimes death is the only cure 
Time can be your healer 
They say oh to keep you pacified 
In this land of hope and glory 
Some of us just won’t survive

40 YEARS IN THE MAKING

This is the age of rage

BERLIN 1989

	Nineteen eighty nine coming up to Christmas time
	The markets lined the neon street
	the Unter Den linden snow crisp feet
	At the Kurfurstendamm everyone is shopping 
	a cornucopia of consumption
	Shouted in neon jingle bells and jingled tills
	a world away from a somnambulant east
	where a family schism sets concrete hard against freedom
	Checkpoint Charlie slipped behind the curtain
	with glaring guards in the streets beyond
	In a no mans land of museum time and aspic
	the Brandenberger Tor is an island adrift
	the Pergammon with its gunshot walls 
	Shell shock masonry still 
	Rainswept cobbled tramlines curved
	Subterranean cast iron covers
	Echoed steps with East German stars
	no shops , no smiles nothing just shuffling papermache cars
	At Friedrichstrasse bahnhof
	a silent subway drama played
	Criss crossing the invisible subterranean border 
	wall lights on carriages 
	windows mirrored faceless faces
	Slipping back I took a hammer to the wall  
	built with all the bricks of my childhood 
	Chipped away at its painted western facade overlooking 
	Hitlers Bunker and the Potsdammerplatz
	A rubicon was crossed
	the people spoke the giant awoke
	Crowbarred concrete and hammered at steel
	Shoulder to the oppressor
	reaching out across the border 
	A proclaimed end of history 
	a whole new world order
	A generation of paint 
	graffiti skin deep
	Hacked with a penknife 
	treasure to keep
	I carried my little piece of history home on the plane 
	like a cake wrapped in tissue 
	to family and friends kept in a frame
	It sits on a wall above my head
	reminding me that history is never dead

Berlin 1989  Build Bridges Not walls

The curtains twitched 
Jimmy sat entranced 
mesmerised, bewitched 
By rights he had no rights
Maybe the rights of way 
Kinder Scout won 
On a dark dog day 
Of trespass and disobedience
The gentry allowed 
But in the 21st century 
Beaten and cowed 
Jobs for the boys 
But no boys for the jobs  
Just land for the landed and 
Grouse for the knobs 

He shuffled downtown 
A paper from the parade 
and looked in the hire column 
disappointment displayed
No benefits for those without benefits it seems  
a house with two bedrooms in your dreams 
The days passed the weeks massed 
The calender monthly 
Came and went and passed
Assymetric War on the horizon 
The redtop hate
Distant sanctions for trade 
and sanctions imposed for being late

tipped up on the street 
He shuffled his feet 
Downtown with Lulu 
homeless and deadbeat
Nowhere to turn to 
Nowhere to run 
Just Jimmy in silence 
The rain and the sun 

Sleeping on the street 
Not being able to feel your feet 
Spat on and shat on 
and Daily abused 
Wrapped in the Mail , the Sun 
The Mirror to keep himself warmly amused 
Of his situation vacant 
Lost in the crowd 
Blanket and Duvet 
His humanity cowed
Nothing reported
Every which way twisted and distorted

Spikes for a bed 
A paving slab pillow
To rest his head 
Moved on from Tesco 
imprisoned in time 
Thankful for the shelter 
From the relentless design 
Of society and culture 
The throw away shit
the water board nature 
Of neo political vomit
No future no suture 
to stitch up his life
The entrails of details 
laid bare cut like a knife 

Kicked when he’s up 
and booted when he’s down 
A feature of life and death 
In an otherwise unremarkable small town 
Nowhere to turn to 
Nowhere to run 
Just Jimmy in silence 
The rain and the sun

Homeless 1.1

“Repent you sinners repent”
	That was the problem with travelling the highways of America by bus
	you can’t choose your companions
	Somewhere west of Austin heading for New Orleans 
	the silence of the American night proved too much for one poor soul
	He clearly saw in our blighted shattered faces we all needed salvation 
	Mexican, Texan, English he drew no distinction .
	It was if our very presence here on a bus of all things
	marked us out for his evangelical passion 
	The passion burned bright in his youthful eyes
	the proud ancestor of fire breathing western preachers 
	a snake oil salesman of uneasy virtue 
	“Repent and come back to Jesus and the Lord will save you”
	 I wish he’d fuck off he scares me I don’t want to be saved 
	Not a word not a sound keep on staring straight ahead
	next thing you know we’ll be victims of another mass shooting dead
	The whole bus is quietitude itself as this hurricane of proselytisation raged
	a tornado twisting up and down the aisle 
	Castigation and remonstration crushing the spirit with guilt 
	oh to be rescued by the silence of sleep .
	Like all storms it blew itself out and peace resumed 
	a quickstop diner before our own Elmer Gantry is exhumed. 
	from a merciful sleep he didn’t stir 
	as dawn broke the daylight dimmed his ranting ire.
	Houston, Galveston , Baton Rouge 
	Mississippi crossed in constant motion
	far to the south the shimmering ocean.

American Night 20.1

Only the good die young 
Whenever your song is sung 
The brightest star will shine 
On The Angels calling time 
Only the good die young 

The Road is long and wide 
Philo and Holly ride 
Together down to the sea 
Forever running free 
Gone To catch the rising sun 
To feel the wind before its gone 
To live for love that never dies 
Somewhere in Heavens high 
As Philo and Holly ride 

Only the good die young 
Whenever your song is sung 
The brightest star will shine 
On The Angels calling time 
Only the good die young 

You drank your fill and never knew 
The days and nights could be so few	
Like Vintage bottled wine	
You were old before your time	
Ride on into the setting sun	
Friend and Brother to everyone	
This crazy world you leave behind	
Always too beautiful to walk the line	
Now the angels calling time

Eddy Morton

Popular tracks