So smooth and sweet, what a wonderful sound.  This is a great one.  Love the overlapping layering of vocals.  Just gorgeous

First recorded in February 2023.
From the album After Bar Sinister.

It's a song about depression.

This new version was mixed and mastered by
Woods Studio Norway Mixing and Mastering 
www.soundcloud.com/woods_studio 

LYRICS

Oh, the sea surges up to the steps,
people turn away from the squall.
Wild the wind carries on through the cracks, in the window pane, or the walls.
And the distant smells of the spring,
seem so far away, February.
On the edges, the growth just begins, barely peeking out, staying small.

Oh dear, what can the matter be.
From the outside of it all.
Oh dear, all that you'll ever be. 
On the outside of it all.

Oh, the purple that drips down the garden wall, doesn't feel the rain, or the cold.
Though the cracks in the concrete are widening, it's just containing, ever more.
Like the distant faces without, never welcoming, don't begin.
Always outside and not looking in, never reckoning, not at all.

Oh dear, what can the matter be.
On the outside of the wall.
oh dear, all that you want to be. 
On the outside of it all.

Mr. Jones, won't you settle down.
If you wanted to get better you'd of wrote yourself the letter. 
It must contain everything, 
That you've ever thought or felt from the start of this thing. 
Of course, you're just finding this out. 
You really should of known and had this all figured out by now.
You see, you just can't be helped, 
won't even take advice as we dish it out.

Mr. Jones, we're trying to help you out.
If you'd just ignore our mistakes and stop pointing them out. 
You'd see that you're really caught in our trap.
Cause we can't offer you help until you've sorted it out yourself.
This is the cheapest way,
for us to think we've made the slightest difference today.
Whilst doing practically nothing.
To be honest, we wouldn't know where to begin.

Oh, the caption reserved for the photograph, doesn't try to tell, truth at all.
Like the face and the clothes that belong to me, all I'll ever be, for yourself.
Like a trinket that once held a memory, a forgotten thing, a miss step. 
Or a plant that emerges a week early, in the frosty breeze, fading health.









The Outsider [2024 Remaster]

We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.





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