Shouldn't Have Let You Go

Another song written at Moniack Mhor in July 2013. It came from a collaborative effort led by Christine Collister where we all chipped in a few ideas, some were even complete lines. If you were there you might recognise a few snippets ...

From the beach up to the heath, beneath the bowing trees
We left the empty village streets, in the silence of the breeze
Out of place, out of time, beneath the bowing trees
The ghostly sickness left behind, in the silence of the breeze
  
Bowing branches shelter you, from things you shouldn’t know
The silent breeze will move you on, wherever you may go

Yesterday when I was young, beneath the bowing trees
Timelessness invaded me, in the silence of the breeze
A gypsy woman on the run, beneath the bowing trees
Pining for the one she loved, in the silence of the breeze

Chorus

Good friends turn to strangers too, beneath the bowing trees
Strong enough, forsaking you, in the silence of the breeze
Trapped in roots and branches, beneath the bowing trees
A broken locket, torn apart, in the silence of the breeze

Chorus

The pale blue spirit of despair, beneath the bowing trees
Shivering vision, taste of fear, in the silence of the breeze
Gripped with grief and still alone, beneath the bowing trees
The dragon soon will fly me home, in the silence of the breeze

Chorus

The Silence of the Breeze

I wrote this back in 2007 as quite a different song, fairly gentle with finger-style guitar, and didn't really get on with it. Went out to Luxor in Egypt in 2012 where I jammed with "the Usual Suspects" at JJ's Bar in Karnak, who gave it a very different feel. This demo reflects those changes and now it's a song I perform regularly. 

It's clearly about the fear of leaving things too late and missing out on exciting things through being too staid and cautious. Here's the lyrics:

You’ve cramped your style for all these years, but you just shrugged and let it go
Self sabotage and reptile tears have kept you to the things you know
Now the clock is running down, you have to face the battles won
Give your dreams the space to breathe, you must fly closer to the sun

Conforming mornings held you down, while grimaced greetings kept you straight
Each time you made it into town, the early shift would make you late
But now it’s seen for what it is, the things to cherish and to shun
Leave behind the fear of loss, you must fly closer to the sun

There were days when I believed I’d time to spare and more or less
I’d spend it all or save it up without concern for recklessness
But now I see the line of time, see it’s the road I’m travelling on
Now I have to make a choice and then fly closer to the sun

What’s the point of looking back, sifting through the pain that’s past?
It’s not that it brings no dismay, but then is slow and now is fast
I have to see a difference made, see a change in everyone
A forward movement’s all it takes, you can’t fly backwards to the sun

Fly Closer To The Sun

During to 80's and 90's I wrote only 2 songs - "You'd Better Be Gone" and "Devil's Diamond" mainly because I was busy doing other things musically - covers, Irish folk, trad.

I didn't start again till 2006 and "Turn To Grey" was the first of this new batch. As you'd probably guess it was written in the autumn of 2006 and maybe also in the autumn years of my life.

Night’s drawing in, and the temperature’s falling
The birds they circle then fly away
Once there was sunshine but now there’s mist forming
Gold has turned to grey

The sky that was bright is now sullen and steely
There’s nothing that makes you want to stay
Your breathing’s slow and your eyelids hang heavy
Blue has turned to grey

Chorus:
We’ll find a paintbox that holds every colour
A colour’s a feeling, a mood they say
We’ll put the colours back in the picture
We’ll turn them back from grey

Sometimes it’s easy to ignore the future
The past’s always with us, it won’t go away
But colours they fade except in the telling 
My memories turn to grey

Chorus

I talk of the times when my future was longer
Than the past I remembered in other days
But memories they fade, especially in the telling
My stories turn to grey

Chorus

Turn To Grey

Another from 2007. Works best with a few other instruments - bass, fiddle, percussion. Come and see "Tony Burt & Friends" to hear the proper version.

Some days please you and some days squeeze you but mostly they’re just the same
Nights of passion roll into fashion but they’re just playing the game
Yes you’re trapped in a beam of darkness and nothing shows you the way
Your mind is aching, your heart is breaking; the price is too high to pay

One way’s up and the other one’s downward but you don’t care where you go
You’ve heard the stories but so much more is waiting for you to know
Now you’re locked in a beam of blackness and you can’t see where to go
You’re well known in that comfort zone, so easy with the things you know

Light the way, that’s not much to pay, and lead me out of this gloom
I’ll brighten up, I’ll even lighten up, and bring some sun into the room
Free me up from this beam of darkness and take the mask from my eyes
Then I’ll see who I want to be and throw away the disguise

Interlude

One way’s up and the other one’s downward but we don’t care where we go
We’ve heard the stories but so much more waiting for us to know
Now we’re all trapped in a beam of blackness and we can’t see where to go
We’re well known in our comfort zone, so easy with the things we know

Let’s light the way, that’s not much to pay, and get us out of the gloom
We’ll brighten up, we’ll even lighten up, and bring some sunshine to the room
Let’s free ourselves from this beam of darkness and take the mask from our eyes
Then we’ll see who we want to be and throw away the disguise

Beam Of Darkness

Wrote this whilst staying in a remote cottage in Carmarthenshire in 2008. On the day in question it rained like it only can in Wales and it was also the day Lehman Brothers went bust which signalled the start of the banking crisis.

Thunder clouds fill the sky, the rain is pouring down
The hillside’s like a waterfall, fountains all around
The river’s frothing, rumbling, as it races through the town
And I just stand here, wondering, staring at the sound

It’s not the first time that I’ve seen, a nightmare turn into a dream
Things are never what they seem, until you face the truth
Until you face the truth

I met a man a while ago who wished his life away
He raced through every moment, wasted every day
Till someone came and wrapped him up and showed another way
And now he plans his garden, and he plants his holiday

It’s not the first time that he’s seen …

The City pinstripes did for us by pocketing the dough
Our money’s lost its value and recovery is slow
But if we don’t get fooled again, we’ll let the robdogs know
Our wealth’s not just in money, so watch our riches grow

It’s not the first time that they’ve seen …

Don’t come here complaining that you don’t have what you need

Society’s conditioned us, filled us up with greed
Face up to what you really need, it’s what you’ve always known
JFDI, get on with on it, and make your life your own

It’s not the first time that we’ve seen …

Face The Truth

An old song of mine, possibly the oldest I still perform. Written on November 18th 1974 when I was still a little boy! Something about it has kept me playing it and, apparently, continued to make listeners enjoy it.

Sailing on through the evening, faced with fear and awe
Lights of land have enticed me but I dare not touch the shore
A hero on the water, all majesty aglow
The common track has turned its back and that’s what you refuse to know

It seems your figurehead’s matchwood, your flag is gleaming white
There are ulcers under the varnish and they’re showing through tonight
The voice that said you were frightened, it wasn’t all that wrong
But truth’s not what they’re paid for, and they’ll find my will too strong

The pumps are choked with deception, frustration turns the wheel
Fires are flaming around me and I really feel how they feel
But the furnace just throws out blackness, the heat’s of a negative kind
And all these strains of creation, well, they’re surely too much for one mind

So we’re sailing on through the evening, faced with fear and awe
Lights of land have enticed us but we dare not touch the shore
Heroes on the water, all majesty aglow
The common track has turned its back and that’s what you refuse to know

The Ship

The words were written by my wife, Brigid, and she promises it refers to days before I knew her. What a bleak feeling it has. Don't think the tune makes it any less gloomy. 

A couple of friends requested this when Tony Burt & Friends played support for Clive Gregson in Bromyard. So here 'tis!

You are a forest, you are a den
You are springtime, you are rain

Your sound is a murmured I love you, your colour is grey
Your world is shifting sand, you wish me away

I am a leafless tree, a creature with nowhere to lie
The season inside me is winter, I am a leaden sky

If I were a sound I’d be snatched by the wind
If I were a colour I’d be blue
If I were a world I’d be frozen water
If I were a wish, I would not come true

If I Were A Wish

Wote the lyrics in a small hotel in the Scottish Borders back in November. "Monica" was an extremely efficient and elegant waitress, unusually tall and with quite an aura. Partly from the drink and partly from the boredom I couldn't help watching her intently and simply enjoying the sight of her. No improper thought crossed my mind.

So this, unusually for me, was a song where I wrote the words without music. In fact I only sorted the tune out today (20th December) and made this rough-ish recording so I won't forget  how it goes.

Very proud of rhyming "juicy" and "retroussé" :-)

Monica Is Taller Than Me by Tony Burt

Monica is waiting on tables, Monica is waltzing through tables
As she moves all the eyes are drawn unto her
Monica is taller than me, three inches taller than me

She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s in control of what she’s doing
I think she has noticed that I’m watching her
Monica is taller than me, looking right down on me

Her mouth is small, her lips are juicy
Her eyes, Scottish grey, her nose retroussé

Monica’s not really her name, in truth I don’t know her name
I have to call her something, I have to call her soon
Shooting for the moon, I’d just be shooting for the moon

Monica’s much younger than me, noticeably younger than me
I know that I can dream, but I’m really what I seem
Monica’s taller than me, thirty years younger than me

Her mouth is small …

Now she is down on her knees, clearing up carrots and peas
My evening’s nearly done, I’m not her kind of fun
She’s so much taller than me, she’s so much younger than me
Monica is taller than me


© Tony Burt 2014. All Rights Reserved.


Monica Is Taller Than Me

Tony is a highly versatile singer and musician who began singing and playing in his mid teens in the folk clubs of 1960′s Birmingham.  Writes intriguing and poetic songs with strong and memorable melodies.

He plays a variety of instruments including guitar, mandola, mandoline, banjo, dulcimer and harmonica. He often describes his repertoire as ranging from “sea shanties to Jerry Lee Lewis” and he takes in most styles in between. He writes his own songs too which are distinctive and thought provoking. He has played as a solo performer for many years but also has been involved with bands such as Trilogy and Witches’ Brew but most particularly as a member of Dempsey’s Lot, a Midlands based Irish band led by the near legendary Tommy Dempsey. 

At present he is playing with a number of local musicians and is recording a new album with these using his own songs. Tony is a keen member of Bromyard Sessions, a loose group of local musicians who play for free every Tuesday evening in the Falcon in the Herefordshire market town of Bromyard..

Monica Is Taller Than Me

Tony Burt

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