Lyrics

Below are the lyrics to some of our songs, including some chords so you can strum along. We’ll add to this from time to time, let us know if there’s any particular tunes you want.

Lyrics from All Mountains Are Men. Released 2011

1. Falling From Grace

For the Buried Village, 1886

 

We’ve read there’s nothing

but a forest of slate

A photograph in the rubble

and a broken plate

 

Your wagon awaits!

Ladies and gentlemen

your journey’s about to begin –

a list of our rates –

 

for a guided tour of our Falling From Grace

 

No wonder in leaving

we’re already late

A funeral procession

of women in lace

 

Your wagon awaits!

Ladies and gentlemen

your journey’s about to begin –

a list of our rates –

 

for a guided tour of our Falling From Grace

 

2. All Mountains Are Men

  For Sophia Hinerangi. Guide, Te Wairoa Village, 1886

 

She found the creek dry

villagers boats, up to their throats

and as she watched – the lake surged

the water rushed in with a curse.

So she said

“Isn’t it strange nobody is listening?”

donned her hat –

“I’ll be your guide for the day.”

 

It’s an omen, it’s a sign

it’s a sign, it’s an omen

it’s the time for revenge

 

All mountains are men

 

His offering –

“All who eat of that honey”

said she, “will surely die.

I can’t say how, but say why –

pollen ain’t sweet

taken from lavender left in the cemetery.

Should you keep

making your living this way?”

 

It’s an omen, it’s a sign

it’s a sign, it’s an omen

it’s the time for revenge

 

All mountains are men

 

I see the canoe as plainly as I see you now –

dog heads on men

The sudden disappearance when we’re calling out –

no answer from them

 

It’s an omen, it’s a sign

It’s a sign, it’s an omen

It’s the time for revenge

 

All mountains are men

 

3. Pretty As a Picture

 

Our house of cards ain’t fallen

we’ve been run off our feet

We can stroll to the letterbox

but there’s no-one there to greet

You’re left holding the baby

thinking about the price of meat

Just waiting for some sign of life

these modern times ain’t sweet

 

 

Who will play us in the movie?

So footloose and fancy free

You’re as pretty as a picture, lady

but he’s not the man of your dreams

 

 

Argue about semantics

how the water tank is dry

Why you never chop the firewood

there’s no flicker in your eye

 

Why don’t we go in to Vegas?

to show them that we’re still alive

A little grey around the edges

no time for sad goodbyes

 

 

Who will play us in the movie?

So footloose and fancy free

You’re as pretty as a picture, lady

but he’s not the man of your dreams

 

4. Man of Dust

Your horse can walk on water

from a distance you look like a man of ice

What are we missing –

have we coo-ed to you for some sage advice?

So, what brings you here

on this typically cold and stormy night?

 

 

Taking off your wide brimmed hat

thanking us for coming back

we want to wish you luck –

In an old-fashioned camera flash

standing like you’re Johnny Cash, but you

you are made of dust

 

You’re on official order

pour a glass and we’ll make our intentions clear

Time is a wastin’,

by the morning you must be in Galatea

Here’s, to all of us

we’ll drink the whiskey while they say all the prayers

 

Taking off your wide brimmed hat

thanking us for coming back

we want to wish you luck –

In an old-fashioned camera flash

standing like you’re Johnny Cash, but you

you are made of dust

5. Blow Your Top

I see you every day

outside my window –

a man would have to brave

I like your smile

On the surface of things

I’m thinking bingo!

But hidden in your depths

a crocodile –

 

I heard you can be prone to fire

I’d agree you seem quite hot

This getting to know you business

hoping you please don’t blow your top

 

So I give you a call

arrange a meeting –

You say, “I’m not so sure

I like your style”

You’re a slippery fish

but kinda smokin’

I haven’t landed a catch

in a while

 

I heard you can be prone to fire

I’d agree you seem quite hot

This getting to know you business

hoping you please don’t blow your top

 

I found out, just in the nick of time

when I heeded the warning signs

And I found out your history

taking to the cleaners men like me

 

I heard you can be prone to fire

I’d agree you seem quite hot

This getting to know you business

hoping you please don’t blow your top

6. Bucketful of Bones

For Kokako, the bush choir.

 

When we find ourselves at hot water beach

we take the time to preen our wings

All that tumbling out of the sky

it can hurt, but we don’t feel a thing

 

We keep the medicine safely at hand

just in case our tune’s a little weak

Because this potion guarantees relief

for a voice that refuses to speak

We’re a murder of crows

and everybody knows

sky is falling on our head

soon you’ll all be dead –

 

leave us a bucketful of bones

 

Some can hear us roll our golden notes

warm at the end, before they sleep

Secretly we’re always here in the dark

bird of prayer without a peep

 

We will meet you at the landing house

try to catch a swifter ride

To escape this god-forsaken place

and return flying at our father’s side

 

We’re a murder of crows

and everybody knows

sky is falling on our head

soon you’ll all be dead –

 

leave us a bucketful of bones

 

7. Love Song for Alfred P. Warbrick

You build boats

fit enough to send the children down stream

A war has broke

smell the musket fire and disease

The story goes

you were like some inland Ulysses

 

O Alfred, Alfred would you want me?

The two of us

back in ’93

 

You are mourned

then reappear surrounded by a cloud of steam

In your waistcoat

rustic but versed in gallantry

The walking dead

still alive but already grieved

 

O Alfred, Alfred would you want me?

The two of us

back in ’93

 

8. Telegrams and Ashes

   For Roger Dansey, Postmaster, Rotorua, 1886

 

i’m sending this to you(STOP)raining earthly matters

red glow horizon(STOP)sky is full of flashes

there’s panic in the streets(STOP)pale faced in tatters

i must not leave my post of telegrams and ashes

 

all passed a fearful night(STOP)man with eyes of daggers

blue grey his face tight(STOP)split with angry fractures

they dug him from his grave(STOP)how the poor man staggered

i must not leave my post of telegrams and ashes

 

out of the murky gloom(STOP)rescuers by carriage

do hope you make sense(STOP)from my dots and dashes

women and children gone(STOP)when you get this message

i must not leave my post of telegrams and ashes

 

9. Nightingale

Mushrooms on the Isthmus Track, Inky Bluebell.

Tiptoe to the lake and back – wet skin, starlight.

What is it we shouldn’t do tonight?

Inky Bluebell – can put us both under a spell…

 

You are my nursery-rhyme, Nightingale!

Keeping me up at bedtime, with your cautionary tale.

 

 

London towers become trees, Dogs-tooth Violet,

Now you’ve got the shiveries, don’t get undone

Just like poor Johnny Suck-a-thumb.

Dogs-tooth Violet – a lesson learnt you won’t forget…

 

 

You are my nursery-rhyme, Nightingale!

Keeping me up at bedtime, with your cautionary tale.

10. Out of the Frying Pan and Into Fire

Hand

me measuring cup, a sack of flour

light dusting

 

Draw

the curtains shut, to block the view

of lightning

Pass

the spatula, to stir the pot

it’s boiling

 

 

Turning the temperature up a little higher

out of the frying pan           and into fire

 

 

Lay

down the tablecloth with silverware

so shiny

Watch

the water froth with cinnabar

and sinter

 

Christ

it’s getting hot, will we meet

our maker?

 

 

Turning the temperature up a little higher

out of the frying pan           and into fire

 

11. Beauty, My Dear

For Amelia Haszard. Widow. Trapped in Te Wairoa Schoolhouse 1886

The pressure is building

it’s filling up fast

Just under the lip

I know it can’t last

Hiding a feeling

although I could burst

Cup after cup

unquenchable thirst

 

Get a photograph, honey, before it’s lost

Beauty, my dear, comes at a cost

Can’t have a clear sky, without a frost

Beauty, my dear, comes at a cost

 

It’s true you are pleasing

each silvery step

Glide across the floor

I trace your silhouette

In my observations

you’re ready for flight

Dissolve into darkness

in the dead of night

 

After the moment

everything’s still

Sketching your absence

a bitter pill

so hard to swallow

what’s done is done

I’m back in the saddle

but still on the run

 

Get a photograph, honey, before it’s lost

Beauty, my dear, comes at a cost

Can’t have a clear sky, without a frost

Beauty, my dear, comes at a cost

Sweet but sickly, you are candy floss

Beauty, my dear, comes at a cost

 

12. Departure

Let

us away

if you please

 

We

are shadows

underneath

 

 

 

Everyone takes leave

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________

Crosswords

NB: the G is more of G/C … or a B. Or something. It’s a B bass note.

Intro: C/Fmaj7/C/G/Am x2

C__________Fmaj7__
Wake me in the morning
___C_______G_______Am____
And bring me a tea tray of breakfast
C_______Fmaj7_____C_____G_________Am_______
Prop up the pillows, and casually pull back the curtains
F______G___________________C______G___Am__
Suddenly you are the sun through the window – Three across
F________G____________C_____G____Am__
Comfortably settle yourself in a smile – Twelve down
F_____________________G_____________C–Fmaj7–C
This cryptic crossword, means we won’t be up for a while

Lend me your biro
I like the way you form your letters
The neighbour is barking, mad dissonant bells in the distance
Bowl along nice and friendly – Three across
Number one story for uplift and joy – Twelve down
This cryptic crossword, means we won’t be up for a while

Give me a good reason
Why we should draw back the covers
This is so cosy, the tea caddy rosy with colours
We could be busy cleaning the kitchen- Three across
Probably some place we’re s’posed to be – Twelve down
This cryptic crossword, means we won’t be up for a while

Suddenly you are the sun through the window – Three across
Comfortably settle yourself in a smile – Twelve down
This cryptic crossword, means we won’t be up for a while

This cryptic crossword
Means we won’t be up for a while

__________________________________________________________

Mercy

E________A_______E_______
Lord have mercy in the morning
E________A______E____
Lord mercy in the afternoon
E_______A_______E__C#m
Lord have mercy in the eventide
___E________B7_______E___
‘Cos Lord I ain’t comin’ home soon

Friend have mercy in the morning
Friend mercy in the afternoon
Friend have mercy in the eventide
‘Cos Friend I ain’t comin’ home soon

Lover have mercy in the morning
Lover mercy in the afternoon
Lover have mercy in the eventide
‘Cos Lover I ain’t comin’ home soon

Mother have mercy in the morning
Mother mercy in the afternoon
Mother have mercy in the eventide
‘Cos Mother I ain’t comin’ home soon

Lord have mercy in the morning
Lord mercy in the afternoon
Lord have mercy in the eventide
‘Cos Lord I ain’t comin’ home soon

__________________________________________________________

Pickle Pot

Dm7/G/Dm7, C/G/C/G/C

Dm7_____G______Dm7____G
In a wicker basket go melamine cups
C_________G__________C________G
You bring the table cloth and I’ll bring the rug
_______Dm 7_____G_______Dm7_____G
There’s a place we are going to, a favourite of mine
C_________G_______C________G
You bring the radio, and I’ll bring the wine, ‘cos

__Eb___________Cm______
It never is raining, it never is dry
______Eb____________Cm_________
There is always a pickle pot for us to hide in
______B_________F#______Bb____
There’s always a posy, for you and I by the
Db_________Ab_____C
Willow tree, to picnic beside

We’ll ride our bicycles, lets pedal fast
Blowing dandelions off with a gasp
Take my trusty pocket knife and carve your name
It doesn’t matter if it looks pretty lame, ‘cos

We should get going, it’s time to go home
Luckily we are not riding alone
Better make tracks soon, before it gets dark
A lovely afternoon walk in the park, where

Dm7/G/Dm7, C/G/C/G/C

Eb/Cm/Eb/Cm, B/F#/Bb, Db/Ab/C
No Capo

__________________________________________________________

Memento Mori

G_____________C____G___
Simple things won’t be the same
__________C______
when there’s black rain
G_________________C
tearing down your blue innocent sky
_________G_______________C____
And coming home again feels like leaving
______G____________C_________G
Coming home again feels like running dry

D____C___________G
Oh my love, don’t age a day
D____C_____________G
Oh my love, don’t ever ask why
D____C_____________G
Oh my love, is a waxen display
D____C__________G
Oh my love – Memento Mori

And simple things, they won’t be the same
No simple things won’t be the same
when there’s black rain
tearing down your blue innocent eyes

And coming home again feels like leaving
Coming home again feels like running dry

Oh my love, don’t age a day
Oh my love, don’t you ever ask why
Oh my love, is waxen display
Oh my love -

Memento Mori

__________________________________________________________

Chestnut

God I wish you would shut your mouth
Letting all your feelings out
I’ve been happily telling you fibs
Like Pinocchio, like Pinocchio

When I push you just won’t budge
Bearing this like you do a grudge
You want it all just black and white
Like dominos, like dominos

Getting ready to draw my gun,
Underneath the high noon sun
Got you in my firing line
Like Geronimo, like Geronimo

How much fun will the making up be
After this one?
Up against that old chestnut tree
After this one
How much fun will the making up be?

Stamp your hooves into the ground
But don’t give me the run around
I’ll stay on your back all day long
Like a rodeo, like a rodeo

Stop talking chocolate to me
Pouring from you seamlessly
You’re leaving dents in wooden floor
Like stiletto, like stiletto
What a man what one tough guy
Easy to make women cry
But I aint shedding no tear for you
Like mafioso, like mafioso

That old chestnut tree…

_______________________________________________________

Blackbird

Blackbird Revisited

I knew a blackbird a long time ago

threw an overcoat on with threads of gold

with a laugh so loud you’d swear he was good to go

a song so dear it fell from the sky like snow

And ringing through the town from the tupelo

returned the sound of a friend in arpeggio

I’ll take this bird under my wing

never want to see no cage round him

I’ll take this bird feather and plume

never wanna hear no cease of volume

_______________________________________________________

Braille

Time for a celebration, if the news is true
That you’re coming home
I’m putting up the decorations
And splashing on cologne

Counting my coin collection, a penny
Is missing from the drawer
Missing your affection, why don’t you
Talk to me no more?

Tell me, tell me darling, why did you, need to run away?
Tell me, tell me darling, how come you didn’t want to stay?
Tell me, tell me sweetheart every finer detail
Speak to me in Braille

Everyone is waiting in anticipation
All they need is you
I’m playing scrabble with your mother
And holding on to Q

Washing all the Wedgewood squeaky clean
It’s your favourite thing
Godliness if you could only
Ever hear me sing
CH
Filing you possessions, looking under H
Tryna find my heart
Have you become my obsession
Is that why we’re apart?

Sweeping up the streamers, goodness me
What an awful mess
Getting in the cleaners, rubber gloves
To help you to confess
CH
Burning all the postcards that you never sent
From over the Rhine
Throwing away all of your stuff
And hanging on to mine

Not needing all the knicknacks, out they go
In your old leather case
I’m making the last wise crack now, so there
I’m smashing all your plates

CH x2

__________________________________________________________

All lyrics copyright 2007 – 2009. Please seek permission before using. here