1. |
Can't Stop the Leaves
02:34
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Well we’re outside
Smoking one last cigarette
I can see it’s burning low
God I don’t want it to burn low
She said it’s like the leaves
You can’t stop the leaves from falling
It would be foolish to try
I said it’s foolish not to try
So when you go
Honey I’m really gonna miss you
But you were an anvil on my chest
You were a forest fire burning in my lungs
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2. |
The Painter
03:51
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Well you’ve really gone and done it now she cried
Pulled the ground out from beneath me
Took the last light from the sky
Then she just sighed
And let the words hang low
I was focused on the long hand on the clock
Thinking some people have a way
Of hanging on when they should stop
Wasting time
Well babe, not mine
Not mine
And my father
When he was teaching me to draw
Smiled with his pen poised on the page
Said the first line is always less
But someone’s always gonna ask for something more
I woke up to the sound of falling snow
Blue light breaking through the blinds in silver lines
And silhouetted like a ghost
I saw her standing clear and close
She said you painters have a word for this you know
The way a piece you painted over
Starts to rise up from below
Unresolved lines from long ago
And I’m searching
For some segment in the air
It sits between your head and mine
Drifts down gentle as a prayer
Oh honey
I envy how you thought of me
How did you ever think that I
Could pull the ground out from your feet
Babe who am I
To take the light
From anybody’s sky
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3. |
Shepherd's Star
02:32
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The offers are all rolling in
And you’re late-night locked out
Of your best friend’s building
Now you’re waiting for the keys
In the only bar still open
They sell chicken wings
And soft-serve ice cream
You’re Aladdin kept from the cave
With no lamp to look for
You could be here for a thousand days
And one more
You woke up drenched in sweat
Tangled in the blankets and couch cushions
You’ve been using for a bed
These days you rise with the sun
‘Cause the window’s got no blinds on
Man it’s time you were moving along
You’re the Argo sailing at dawn
With its sails all ripped and torn
Reaching out for the last breath of wind
When you left the gods came down
And blessed you one by one
Now I guess they’ve got some place better to be
‘Cause they’re long gone
The air out here is fresh and clean
Bought a one-way train ticket
And kept on it ’til the tracks turned green
You’ve been walking now for miles
And the sky’s starting to thunder
It’s so biblical you can’t help but smile
You’re a shepherd short of a flock
Under the Goat Star rising
You’re David with a golden sling
You’re an angel with a wounded wing
You’re a garden boy picking wild flowers
For the King
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4. |
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Well it seems like I spend all my time
Trying to lift a curse
Placed upon me by some grinning
Trickster agent of the universe
Do you ever feel like something
Is bearing down on you
I mean you’ve seen this thing around before
But now it’s really, really got its claws in you
And I’ve been around this whole wide world
Traded my shadow for shelter and walking shoes
Let me tell you a shadow’s not easy to lose
I woke up by a river
In the morning air
Was like a scene from some old poem
By Rimbaud or Baudelaire
And this warm breeze I thought was leaving
But it’s here to stay
Guess I’ll lie here with my eyes closed
Forget the cold today
I had a lot of trouble in my mind
But I can’t quite
Recall it now
And I’ve known a lot of loneliness and sorrow
But they’re just sinking in this river
Like a stone
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5. |
First Goodbye
03:32
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He first saw her in the sun
She had these big sunglasses on
A friend of his friend’s girl
They got on fine
She came to see him play
In some worn-out Soho bar
He looked up from his guitar
And there she was
After, they went out for a drink
And they talked for quite some time
And when it came to say goodbye
They both grew shy
And had to hide their eyes
Man, memories are so strange
You put the good ones in these frames
While the bad ones fall away
’Til all that’s left
Is just a person incomplete
Some perfect soul you chanced to meet
Fills your thoughts when you’re asleep
And can’t defend
But he knows himself enough
Not to feel too down on his luck
‘Cause that last goodbye was tough
But the first
Is still close enough to touch
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6. |
A Statue Part-Concealed
03:13
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To one side of the house there lies a field
To the other stands a statue part-concealed
By an old and overhanging apple tree
With branches bowed and bended by the breeze
And oh
When you get real close
Oh
You can see there frozen in its place
A sculpted face
And one bronze arm
Raised
It’s the figure of a small and laughing child
With a mess of curly hair grown free and wild
Every part of him is reaching to the sky
And from his outstretched hand, a bird about to fly
Oh
When the moon hangs low
Oh
And the last clouds go
You see the stars
Thousands of stars
And you smile
And raise your arm
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7. |
April Sky
03:53
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I came in on the back of a bad storm
Ducked into a doorway off Church Avenue
And the lamppost light glowed soft and warm
So I stayed a while and watched the night go by
Saw a cloud of smoke rise high
Curl from a chimney like a sigh
Into an April sky
And I took a job the first place I could find
In a kitchen tucked away beneath the railway line
And the trains would cross above from time to time
And the pots and pans would rattle on the wall
Like some ancient battle call
Feel like a general sent to war
On a foreign shore
There’s a girl I had my eye on for a while
She works behind the counter at the jazz café
If I could only find the words to make her smile
I could stop pretending not to know the names
Of the records that she plays
She’s got Bill Evans on again
You Must Believe in Spring
Now I’m staring out the window at the rain
Been in this city for a year and every day I feel the same
Like if I stay here for just one more day
I’ll be sleeping when my spirit slips away
Like some cloud of smoke and rain
Like two overpassing trains
Like a smile on a lonesome face
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8. |
At the Edge of the World
04:51
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I dreamed that my good friend
Swam way out in the ocean
And I barely could see him
From where I stood on the shore
I set out to join him
The waves they were rippling
With fragments of moonlight that somehow
Had slipped through the clouds
But as I drew near the water
The tideline receded
Cold sand gripped the soles of my feet
And sea salt brushed my cheeks
I just kept on walking
Transfixed on this body
This ocean that faster and faster
Drew further away
When it hit the horizon
My eyes took the view in
My heart it was pounding
So strange was the sight
I found myself walking
In a wide open valley
With peasant-style buildings
And cobblestone streets
And as I walked through this village
I grew deeply lonely
Not a soul was in sight
And my legs had grown tired
But a voice called good morning
As I turned into a clearing
An old man was leaning
On the wall of a well
I watched as he reached in
And ever so gently
Filled up with water
A carved wooden cup
And handing it to me
He smiled very warmly
Said come on kid, don’t worry
He’s bound to turn up
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9. |
Things Always Break
02:47
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He found my name
In a letter that never quite made it
To where it should’ve got to
I was glad for the mistake
He took my hand
And showed me to a place I’d been missing
So long I had forgotten
What it feels to catch a breeze
And through it all I saw a girl in green
Lost in shadows
And strange dreams
I’ll walk with you
Until you find the next branch to cling to
You always move so quickly
And I’m just passing through
Things always break
It doesn’t even help when you know it
It gets you when you’re sleeping
And it hurts like hell
And I feel for every girl you passed on by
Who thought you were some kind of answer
Who’d give anything just for one more goddamn day
Well me, I always knew
You
Couldn’t stay
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10. |
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Well it’s a quarter after midnight and you’re walking home
The wind hits you like ice and you’re chilled to the bone
And your chest feels heavy and your head’s bowed low
And your thoughts are running thick and muddy and slow
And you knew what you had to say, you had it clear in your mind
And for some reason thought things would be different this time
But of course they weren’t and the words just didn’t come
Now you’re stuck with dead words on the end of your tongue
You see the thing about these dreams of yours is they’re fragile in form
And in the cold light of day are too easily torn
And behind you they’re all talking and laughing and drinking
But here you are walking like a ship’s anchor sinking
And out of nowhere a car door slams
And a cat jumps out from under a van
Runs down a side road you somehow failed to see
All the hundreds of times you’ve been up and down this street
And you’re hit by the full force of something pushed back and hidden
That’s found a crack somewhere and rapidly risen
From some river or lake buried way down in the deep black earth
And you can’t quite explain it but you just need to know
What’s lying at the end of that tucked away road
You find yourself in a courtyard completely alone
Surrounded by tall trees that creak and groan
And point out a pathway dim-lit by the glow
From a small old church of weathered stone
The door’s half open so you step inside
And your heart starts pounding and your jaw drops wide
‘Cause there’re thousands of candles and in their flickering light
Is the biggest stained glass window you’ve ever seen in your life
And you call out to see if anyone else is around
But your only answer back is the dust-muffled sound
Of an ancient clock ticking in an ancient steeple
And you’re alone in this stained glass world of strange lands and people
And towering above you is Saint Lawrence in a tall fire burning
But he’s joking and laughing as he’s twisting and turning
And beside him stands Saint Sebastian with three arrows in his side
But again no trace of fear or pain in his eyes
And there’s a town named after him in the North of Spain
And you remember you were there once in a thick cloud of rain
On a steep green mountain with four close friends
And in the mist and the fog a long wooden fence
Was all you had to direct you, your only guide
And standing there calmly on the other side were two black horses, silent and strong
And you found yourself staring so close and so long
That their colours started to change and they multiplied
Into twenty desert horses in a long ragged line
For the watering hole an old town left behind
Under layers of mountains etched into the sky
While old abandoned buildings whispered and sighed
Half-buried in the rust-red sand
When the night-time falls in this desert you’re in
You’re driving tired at the wheel and your head starts to spin
And you think you can make out these figures panning the sand
For diamonds left stranded where the river once ran
Your thoughts start to wander and your mind starts to stray
And the dust in your headlights murmurs and sways
As your windshield gets hit hard by a cold winter rain
On the road to your dad’s new place on the coast of St. James
And you remember that house on that hill in that storm
And you remember well sleeping there safe and warm
While all manner of spirits filled the room in the night
Carried in by waves crashing on the rocks outside
And you’re all the while standing in front of that stained glass mirror
But the candles are low so you step in near
And you see yourself walking on your old route home
With your hands in your pockets and your head bowed low
And you get to the sidewalk outside your flat
But there’s a light on in the window — someone beat you back
And someplace far off a church bell rings
An old clock ticks and a sparrow sings
And you look up again and the shade’s been drawn
And all that’s left for you to do my friend is wait for the dawn.
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Daniel Gadd London, UK
Singer and songwriter from Cape Town. Based in London, UK.
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