There’s been a change in the weather

There’s been a change in the weather
And things are looking good
I leave my nightmare sleeping
In its pool of blood
Outside the traffics growing
Enough to reach the moon
The cuckoo clock is ticking
In my living room
The old cat flap is banging
I think I have a spy
I check my favourite website
For any creeping lies

There’s been a change in the weather
The glass case cries a tear
My polluted stream of conscience
Is running off in fear
Out in the dotted landscape
The giant scissors cut
And if I had a staircase
I’d go and take a look
I smoke alarm is ringing
I hope that no one dies
I’m checking out the comics
To see who is using knives

There’s been a change in the weather
I hope that things relax
cleaning under the sink
I find I owe some tax
Outside the air lanes busy
They’re making all that noise
Leaving water vapour trails
Of writing in the sky
The life and death that’s in me
Is sitting all about
The eagle in the living room
It wants to be let out

There been a change in the weather
The sky begins to change
A newsflash on the T.V.’s
Reporting something strange
The air is getting colder
I think it’s gonna rain
I’d try to warn my neighbour
But then they’ll just complain
My wounds are feeling angry
I’ll make a cup of tea
This is the final message
You’ll ever get from me

Here is a PDF of the sheet music with chords and lyrics.

There’s been a change in the weather

I Hear the Moon Sing

I hear the moon sing
But I see the sun cry
As your naked body begins to fly

I follow dressed in black
With the diary of your bed
With the little white angels
Who were your best bedspread

But down in your grave
Go the museum bones
The flocks of your sheep
And an old vixens moans

While you tidy your room
And comb out your hair
Did you know it was my body
They really buried in there

Yes did you know it was my body
They really buried in there

You Didn’t Make Me Jealous

You didn’t make me jealous
I understood beforehand what path I’d be put on
Like scenes from a projectionist’s slide show
They took place one by one

Click

Via your emotional spirituality
You had been in touch with your god
And then you began to stop seeing me
You even began to stop liking me

Click

You began to drive me out of your life
By shutting doors
By initiating negative plans

Click

It was granted you to do what you wanted
You took it all for granted

Click

You didn’t make me jealous
You just destroyed what little I had

Click

The complexity of our companionship was sullied
By gossip, you took further action

Click

Without explanation, without regret, without showing any feelings
You closed the doors to your heart

Critical review:
Your god has duped you
Your friends have duped you
Your heart has been duped

And The Heron Flies

The heron stood on the water
On your wooden heart, it carved a trinity
Two staircases emerged from the lake
A vase of yellow roses hovered there

You chewed a rosary of spearmint
I melted away into nothing
Vikings ransacked the church of your mind
You wrung a hollow-sounding Amen from raindrops

You’ve hung onto this one lasting dream
Of being in the romance of a lifetime
As the dragon dressed up as a Cardinal
And shoots you with his prickly thinking

The Heron flew onto the island
Your face was as long as a Catholic against the lake
Like an old empty black saloon car I felt empty
A bed of roses undermined your pure thinking

Let’s go back home you kept saying
But I felt like a motherless child
Roosting in a nest of deleted feelings
With my severed legs under the table

Love is greater than eternity

I don’t want to think about the future
Or to think deep about eternity
Or to be reminded of my mortality
I don’t want to think of life that way

I want to love you and not care about tomorrow
Let tomorrow come, see I don’t care
I just want to have your love and not to sorrow
It will work out I’m sure so long as you are there

Don’t talk about the plans of married couples
Don’t meditate on security or making cash
Or life will wear us down with many problems
And love will drain away and leave us flat

I believe that love is worth more than money
That love is greater than security
And though love can be dark it is mostly sunny
And I believe that love is greater than eternity

She Hoods Her Nose with Her Index Finger

 

She hoods her nose with her index finger
And fixes her eyes on the draughts board
She thinks hard and in her heart the tomboy tries
To win every game against the naughty boys

She moves about the board trying different form
The muscles in her fingers are flexed like boxer’s brawn
Her mischievous blue eyes sparkle with serious intent
To beat the foe before her she fights without relent

Then after winning several games of draughts in a row
She calls the winner a looser and the loser a hero

Eclipse 1999

I touch the pen of the moon in a solar eclipse. This light will change as love glows through the telescope of a zebras third eye. My heart beats in the mouth of a hippopotamus; outside a merry-go-round is smashed to pieces by a bold one-penny stamp in a frogman’s suit. My jaw aches and I feel the crumbling earth beneath my feet. If I sit down in the chair I may well see the universe revolve around the light bulb. Like a message in a bottle, and who made the bottle, I float across the chlorine clouds in the first radio broadcast from the moon; it hides in the boot of a beetle that hurtles through a mountain at high speed. Is my memory really a memory or is it a green colossus who strikes the bell tower at midnight and pees in the market place where the homeless are assembled. There is a countdown in my mind that scares me because of all the fears of an eclipse turning red in a green sky. I am overweight like a goldfish bowl that has policemen swimming inside it. I dry off the dead cat and laugh a little at the public garden that has rubies hanging from its trees. I dole out my grief to the midges that enjoy the sexual activity that accompanies the tattoo parlours miracle-making. It’s the end of a second and I trip and fall into a crater where I meet Mr Eternity riding the first alluring model from a Parisian catwalk. I walk around with a whole railway sticking out of my belly. The empty coaches are blue inside and midgets play squash with the light bulbs. A telephone was ringing as miles away above the clouds a man in a gorilla suit put the phone down. The postman pulls away my lips from around his letters and thoughtlessly throws them on the ground. The girl from the newspaper shop has lost a lot of blood and her shadow wanders through my apartment without a face, I cannot touch her because of the waterfall dripping down the walls. A rumour was started by an astrologer about how life will change after the millennium; he walks on a red carpet of blood and embers as the night smoothly rolls a rose between its fangs and jumps out of the window. Across the daylight, the little children are coming out to play followed by the noisy sound of a farting elephant from the betting shop that has so many bunches of flowers stacked high inside that no one can get inside.
On the day of the eclipse, I will sit inside the café on a hill in Greenwich Park and as darkness covers the earth, I will watch as darkness covers the land I will watch as the armies of heaven march by.
In the days leading up to the eclipse, there was hatred in people’s eyes. People have no time for each other. This morning another argument between neighbours broke out. True love doesn’t escape either. The summer heat causes friction between couples. I’ve seen this on the streets as well. Now it’s raining. All I’ve thought about this week has been death and rejection. I have been in tears more than once. I have felt troubled by the attitudes of the people around me. It’s pointless to try to explain it, but never the less people are seemingly lacking in simple affection.
Above an empty glass a mirage of dark rippling waters, thoughts about the future become falling rafters. A tidal wave of depression becomes a standing rock beside me, so old it seems a valuable possession; it’s no substitute for the evening light dragging its silken night-gown over my head. A couple perched in high chairs in a tree are examining their feelings in the small round hanging mirrors. Three restless teenage girls are fuming in a dark struggle of giggling argument. What shall I do? My friends have not come. I try to pick up my rock of depression and go but I cannot. I sit like a living film that can see itself in a gloomy cinema. I can vaguely make out the cliffs and overhangs of my face surrounding my eyes, I tap my hand to deafening pop music.
August evening, the night before the eclipse.
The power of the heavens will be physically displayed.
Darkness falling during the day.
A work of precision engineering with great power
A work of precise alignment
Engineered with the immense power of the solar system.
Yet another of the amazing experiences of living on our earth.
Where the elements are so well balanced and so well co-ordinated
Yet so well taken for granted as a result of the theory of evolution.
The darkness seems cold and has a weird edge to it.
Or I have a strange feeling, buoyant yet nervous.
That small distant moon will block out the sunlight.
A great stretch of the earth will be in darkness
Demonstrating how vast and powerful the planets are
Yet we experience them only occasionally in our lifetimes
And assume that life carries on as always.

The earth is my music

The earth is my music
And your tune
Listen to the air outside
Or as it whistles in the room
Or roars across the land
With titanic force
Or fills the lungs of songbirds
Or plays the water course

The earth is my music
And my lament
While some do cry the newborn song
Some go down a vent
I love the sound of earth
Its silence in the night
Its waking sighs of morning
Its symphony of light

A death like ours

A death like ours
Like crumbling towers

That nature un-tunes us
To let death wound us

The only time we crack
Is when we dress in black

Time stands still then turns to stone
We each must mourn alone

A death like ours
Upon the wooden stake

There are no lies about it
Death is not a fake

Jesus died just like us
To do what’s right and just for us