elegy

I guess that it’s inevitable that if you set out to express sentiment, you’re in danger of becoming sentimental - I suppose that the very derivation of the word is a bit of a giveaway in that matter. And if that isn’t bad enough, this sentimentality could even manifest itself as something twee, superficial and lacking in sincerity – the antithesis of your original intention. Therefore – you can’t win. So I wrote this song with all the trepidation of a street kid in sensible shoes - aware of all the pitfalls of entering the world of uncool – and I fell into them without shame, because even if the words may come across as unadulterated schmaltz, it’s the sentiment that is important.

three letters to the dead

Oh Mother can you hear me calling

The sky’s bruised black and blue

All around the snow is falling

I just want to talk to you

In your heart can you find forgiveness

For the soul of your only son

I watched you die, did I pull the trigger

I’ll never know but I held the gun

See your face in the mirror

Feel your blood in my veins

A shrine to your memory

Is all remains

Oh Father, when you left me

Before I was full grown

All the questions without answers

I had to find them on my own

My hands are numb, I can’t feel my fingers

I try to cut the line you’ve drawn

Through everything your memory lingers

I’ll get no rest til dawn

Hear your voice in my dreaming

Calling out my name

Things were so different

Now they’re just the same

You were my best friend, why did you leave me

To sail this rocky sea?

Disease and fate racked your body

And left your soul with me

In every word you tried to utter

Your lines of poetry

A secret language – Esperanto

Your silence speaks to me

Hear your voice in my singing

In every word I write

Things were so different

But now, tonight

I stand naked in front of the critics of cool