All lyrics copyright Barry Wake, and reproduced here by permission.
The notes about the songs are taken from Chris & Siobhan's albums Tomorrow's Sun and Day Has Dawned.
Barry’s evocative picture of World War One, and the tragic waste of human life, is written from the point of view of someone who made it home from the ‘Front’. (SJN)
In nineteen eighteen the Great War was done,
At home in our village I walk in the sun,
As I lie in the meadow the ghosts pass me by,
My memories haunt me, they will 'til I die.
Chorus:
Find some more of us, send some more of us,
'Til the battle is won,
Too many friends I knew so well,
Won't see tomorrow's sun.
"Today's the big push", so the sergeant told me,
"We'll beat the Boche hollow" said the captain to he,
But I've been here three years and I've heard it before,
We've gained nothing yet, and lost thousands and more.
Chorus
Over the top when the whistle is blown,
Though the fear in your heart has turned you to stone,
There were ten from our village, there's nine of them gone,
They had no real chance but they had to go on.
Chorus
The conchies back home were reviled and disdained,
God knows what I'd do if it came round again,
If we'd all said "No more!" when the generals called,
My friends might be here and not lying there cold.
Chorus
The ladies at home worked the factories and land,
Their lives they were changed by time's shifting sand,
They have the vote now and they'll come to the fore,
Maybe then a chance - there'll be no more war.
Chorus
© Barry Wake
The traditional parade of the apprentice chimney sweeps, re-enacted annually at the Rochester Sweeps Festival, set our good friend Barry Wake thinking about the plight of those 'climbing boys'. This poignant song is the result. (SJN)
See the boy, see the rags that he wears,
In his eyes only pain and despair,
Begging gin from the rogues and the whores,
For it helps him forget what the next day has in store.
Trapped in hell in the soot and the smoke,
Knowing soon that he’ll fall or he’ll choke,
Always starved so he won’t grow too fast,
He’ll die young and alone, one more victim of his class.
Chorus:
He’ll have his moment on one day in the year,
Dancing through the City streets,
The climbing boy appears.
Sharing scraps with the cats and the dogs,
No complaints for he knows he’ll be flogged,
He’s abused every hour of the day,
Who will see, who will care, when his life is thrown away.
On the roof he can dream for a while,
Looking down on the streets with a smile,
He’s the king of a castle in the air,
But there’s no one to rule, it’s a crown of thorns he wears.
Chorus:
Mayday comes and he’ll dance and he’ll sing,
For the joy and the laughter it brings,
Then he’s gone in the blink of an eye,
Just a day in the life of a dying butterfly.
Chorus
Then he’s gone in the blink of an eye,
It’s the last day on earth for a dying butterfly.
He had his moment on one day in the year,
Dancing through the City streets,
The climbing boy appeared.
© Barry Wake
The Widow Maker was the name given to the pneumatic drill that was introduced into copper mining to increase production; it earned its nickname because of the disastrous effects it had on the miners’ health. (SJN)
Sons will follow fathers, working down the mine,
To put bread on the table, serving out their time,
We're working all the hours, to earn a pauper's wage,
We go there every morning, and choke our lives away.
Chorus:
We curse the owner's name,
For bringing in the drill,
We curse that widow maker,
For all the men she killed.
Copper is the master, copper calls the tune,
They need the ore much faster, tomorrow's not too soon,
We're digging out the ore, and eating all the dust,
For they don't give a monkey's, and we don't make a fuss.
Chorus
Men will die by inches, in that dusty mine,
With lungs as stiff as concrete, old before their time,
We're heading for the day when we can't catch a breath,
Then we're on the scrap heap, and all that's left is death.
Chorus
Schools and shops are closing, families moved away,
No more work for miners, copper's had its day,
The streets are empty now, and no ships at the quay,
They say we'll find a new life, far across the sea.
Chorus
© Barry Wake
This moving song is about the plight of children sent to new lives in the colonies between the late 1940s and late 1960s. (SJN)
Sailing out from Liverpool, cargo for the Crown,
Bound for lands so far away, a new life to be found,
Promises were made to us, we sang "God Save the King",
Hope was there, and peace as well, we'd have everything.
Chorus:
And all they told were lies,
We were nothing more than slaves to them,
And the life we all despised,
Everyday, everyday.
Landing in Australia, duty to be done,
There we found our dream had gone, a nightmare had begun,
Slavery, in all but name, was all that lay in store,
Working just to stay alive, there was nothing more.
Chorus
Far from home, no rights at all, what could children say?
Out of sight and out of mind, our country turned away,
All we thought of, night or day, was going home once more,
But there was no-one asking us, or opening a door.
Chorus
Someday, when we're old enough, we can break away,
Leave this hell and go back home, find someone to blame,
God knows how they justified the cruelty and the pain,
Sending us to slavery, in the Empire's name.
Chorus
© Barry Wake
The penultimate verse of Barry's song about the First World War, Tomorrow's Sun (the title track of our previous album) provided the starting point for this story about women's fight for the vote. Purple, white and green were the colours adopted by Emmeline Pankhurst's Women's Social and Political Union (WSPU). (SJN)
In the years before the war, a restless feeling grew,
As women threw away their bonds and sought their rightful dues;
The time was right, the cause was just, but words were all in vain,
"Yours is not to reason why", the answer stayed the same.
Chorus:
Here they come now, arm in arm,
They're marching to be seen,
Carrying their banners high,
Wearing purple, white and green.
Those who held the reins of power, they would not heed the call,
That echoed through their corridors, "equal rights for all";
And so a solemn vow was made, to fight and fight again,
Until the day the vote was theirs, and the law was changed.
Chorus
Meeting in Trafalgar Square, to march upon the King,
Striding out along the Mall, to battle and to win;
Beaten down by mindless men, arrested and sent down,
Forced to eat against their will, no favour to be found.
Chorus
The silver arrows that they bore were carried high with pride,
To show they'd served their time in jail, and they'd no need to hide;
The years of pain and sacrifice were spent to right a wrong,
At times the torch of hope grew dim, but hearts and minds were strong.
Chorus
Then the world was stricken by the war to end all wars,
Where men were slaughtered in the mire, that cry became a roar;
They worked the factories and the land, to fill those empty shoes,
Their sweat and toil, it won the day, their torch came shining through.
Chorus
© Barry Wake
A song about deciding whether to leave the rat-race and venture into pastures new. (SJN)
One more day has dawned and the treadmill turns,
All the lines are drawn, life is just a blur;
City lights burn so bright and promise everything,
But they're not real, it's how you feel that gives your life its wings.
Always there to call, when the game gets tough,
Though you give your all, it's never quite enough;
It's not right, it's black and white, you have the right to live,
You can stay or break away, but something has to give.
You can play all the rules and still you'll never win,
They can call you a fool, because you just give in.
You can break the chain and the mould that's cast,
You can start again, never mind the past;
You can fly if you try, it's not a fantasy,
Take a chance, choose romance, a moment and you're free,
It's not right, it's black and white, you have the right to live,
You can stay or break away, but something has to give,
City lights burn so bright and promise everything,
But they're not real, it's how you feel that gives your life its wings.
One more day has dawned, still the treadmill turns.
© Barry Wake
In this song, Barry looks at the hard lives endured by the community of dock workers in the Chapel district of Southampton. Such conditions, of course, also prevailed in other ports and industrial communities. (SJN)
I used to live in a part of town that no-one liked to know,
Street by street and back to back, families row by row,
No work, no food, we're just scraping through,
No work, no food, the workhouse waits for you.
Chorus:
No work, no work, it's time to beg again,
No work, no work, some things never change.
Piece work down in the docks was hard and all the men were slaves,
Waiting 'round for the foreman's nod; who'd he choose today?
No work, no pay, another wasted day,
No work, no pay, the bailiff's on his way.
Chorus
We fought the bailiffs when they came, our rent was far behind,
Neighbours always gathered round, helpful and so kind,
No work, no rent, all our money spent,
No work, no rent, on the streets we're sent.
Chorus
The means test man, he came to call and told us what to sell,
"You don't need so many chairs, you'll do very well",
No work, no pride, nothing left to hide.
No work, no pride, nothing left inside.
Chorus
Chapel streets are now long gone, I still miss them all,
Families always close around, friends would come to call,
No work, no work, it's time to beg again,
No work, no work, some things never change.
Chorus
© Barry Wake
...the story of the Pilgrim Fathers setting out from Southampton (Barry’s home town) aboard the Mayflower and the lesser-known Speedwell. (SJN)
King James was the man who said "They will conform,
Or harry them from this land, let them all be gone".
So to Holland, one by one, to find a refuge there,
Landing in old Amsterdam, where the law was fair.
Chorus:
And they sailed, and they sailed,
To find a better day,
And they sailed, and they sailed,
Where their freedom lay.
On to Leyden town, hoping for to find,
Peace and tranquillity in those troubled times,
Hearing of America, was then they made their plan,
To sail for Virginia and a promised land.
Chorus
Speedwell, the very ship that was to let them down,
Sailing from Holland's shore to Southampton town,
Mayflower, she left the Thames to meet them at the quay,
Then to America, united they would be.
Chorus
August was the month they left Southampton's shore,
With hopes high in their hearts, but Speedwell failed once more,
Two weeks in Dartmouth dock, would it ever end?
Then they sailed three hundred miles, and returned again.
Chorus
Mayflower, now on her own, left from Plymouth Sound,
With twenty pilgrims left behind, a hundred westward bound,
A cooper and a child were first to step upon the land,
Treading where their freedom lay, on that foreign sand.
Chorus
© Barry Wake