TRAILER STAR LYRICS 1996

SONGS 1996

1. PRODIGAL SON 2. BLACK TIN BARNS 3. TWO RIVERS MEET 4. ROOM 22 5. THE ROAD IS A RIVER 6. MY LITTLE TOWN 7. RAIN POURS THROUGH THE ROOF 8. THESE THREE ROOMS 9. BALLAD OF THE ORANGE TREE 10. DEVIL’S ADDRESS 11. THE FACTORY 12. MY FATHER’S TREES 13. RAIN COMING DOWN 14. THE LYNTON AND LYNMOUTH FLOOD 15. WISHING FIELD 16. BACK OF BEYOND

PRODIGAL SON

I WAS DRIVING WITH THE WINDOWS DOWN ROUND THE STREETS OF MY HOMETOWN PAST THE GARAGE THAT BURNED DOWN LAST FALL NOW IT’S JUST SOME BLACKENED WALLS AN OLD MAN WAS SHOUTING AT ME ‘AIN’T SEEN YOU ROUND HERE SINCE ’73 MUST BE THE PRODIGAL SON’ I GOT MARRIED BACK IN ’69 WE HAD TWO KIDS BUT WE BARELY SURVIVED THEN ONE DAY I ROLLED THAT OLD FARMER’S TRUCK SEEMS LIKE I STARTED ON SEVEN YEARS BAD LUCK NOW I’M DRIVING WITH MY EYES TIGHT SHUT ‘COS I CAN’T BARE TO LOOK AT WHAT I LOVED THERE’S A HOUSE ON THE CORNER OVER THERE THAT’S WHERE SHE LIVES NOW, HELL I DON’T CARE

BLACK TIN BARNS

THERE’S AN OLD DIRT TRACK, A MUDDY STREAM A WIDE OPEN FIELD SURROUNDED BY TREES AN OLD TIN BARN THAT’S FALLING DOWN WHERE I USED TO ROLL IN MY SWEET BABY’S ARMS OH COUNTRY TRACKS TAKE ME BACK TO THE FARM OF THE BLACK TIN BARNS NOW ALL I CAN DO IS SIT AND STARE ACROSS THESE FIELDS AT TREES SO BARE ALL AROUND ME THERE’S JUST STICKS AND STONES NOTHING BEEN PLANTED SO NOTHING GROWS WHEN I WAS YOUNG I USED TO DREAM OF YOU GIRL OUT HERE IN THESE FIELDS OF WHEAT BUT NOW THE WIND’S COME AND TORE EVERYTHING UP AND ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THIS HANDFUL OF DUST

ROOM 22

STANDING AT THE WINDOW LOOKING NORTH THROUGH THE POWER-LINES AND THE RAIN AS IT FALLS IT FEELS THE SAME AS THE DAY WE BOTH STAYED IN THIS CHEAP HOTEL ROOM OVERLOOKING THE TRAINS SAME ROOM, ROOM 22 THEN THE HILLS WERE ALL COVERED IN SNOW ALL WE COULD SEE WERE BARE TREES AND CROWS THEN I REMEMBER US WALKING AROUND THIS TOWN AS THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS WERE BEING SHUT DOWN NOW YOU’VE MARRIED SOMEONE ELSE DOWN THE LINE MAYBE I’VE PASSED BY YOUR HOUSE ONCE OR TWICE BUT TONIGHT ALL I HAVE HERE IS THE MEMORY OF YOU AS I STARE AT THESE POWER-LINES AND A RAIN-FILLED VIEW

WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET

I WAS BORN WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET I LEARNT TO SOW AND I LEARNT TO REAP THEN I WENT TO THE UNIVERSITY LEARNT ALL THE WORDS A RICH MAN NEEDS OH MARY, OH MARY, WILL YOU WAIT FOR ME WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET MY SHIP IT LEFT PORT AT DEAD OF NIGHT THE FULL MOON ON THE SAILS DID SHINE WE PASSED THROUGH LANDS OF ICE AND SNOW TWO DIED BELOW, THEIR BODIES FROZE I FOUND A PLOT IN AMERIKY, CUT BACK THE TREES THEN A POISONED SNAKE BIT INTO ME THEN DELIRIOUS I THOUGHT I SAW YOU, MY MARY DRESSED IN WHITE WALKING ACROSS THE SEA TAKE ME BACK TO WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET SOMEWHERE BETWEEN AYR AND DUMFRIES

THE ROAD IS A RIVER

THE ROAD IS A RIVER MY WINDOWS ARE FULL OF STEAM AND THAT WOMAN I REMEMBER WALKING ACROSS THESE FIELDS AND THE ROAD IS A RIVER AND IT TAKES US AWAY FAR FROM THESE FIELDS OF STRAW THESE EMPTY BARNS IN THE RAIN AND THE ROAD IS A RIVER MAYBE ONE DAY YOU’LL COME BACK THIS WAY IN A CAR OF CHROME AND SILVER FLOATING THROUGH THESE FIELDS OF RAIN

MY LITTLE TOWN

THERE’S A ROAD RUNS STRAIGHT THROUGH MY LITTLE TOWN AND HALF WAY DOWN IT THERE’S A PICTURE-HOUSE BUT NOW IT’S BEEN TURNED INTO A BINGO HALL THEY DON’T SHOW FILMS THERE ANY MORE AND THE ROAD RUNS STRAIGHT THROUGH MY LITTLE TOWN THERE’S A RAILWAY-LINE IN MY LITTLE TOWN AND ALL THE KIDS CAN THINK OF IS GETTING OUT SEE THEM ON THE PLATFORM ON A SATURDAY NIGHT BIG CITY LIGHTS SHINING IN THEIR EYES AND THE LOCAL PUBS ARE EMPTY NOW ON A SATURDAY NIGHT BUT COME HALF PAST ELEVEN YOU’RE STILL GUARANTEED A FIGHT WELL WHAT ELSE CAN THESE POOR BOYS DO THAN GET BLIND DRUNK AND ACT THE FOOL

THESE THREE ROOMS

THESE THREE ROOMS WORN AND BADLY LIT DECORATED WITH PAINT INCHES THICK AND BEHIND CURTAINS WHERE THE DUST SITS THE FRAMES RATTLE, NEVER MADE TO FIT STAY WITH ME THROUGH THE NIGHT STAY WITH ME UNTIL THE MORNING LIGHT AND YOU WILL SEE THESE THREE ROOMS SHINE THE CARPETS ARE DULL AND TENANT-STAINED MAYBE THEY WERE BRIGHTER IN BETTER DAYS NOW THE LINO SLIDES ACROSS THE FLOOR AND THE BATHROOM PAPER PEELS OFF THE WALL FORGIVE ME ALL THE POVERTY I BRING THIS CHEAP BOX, THIS BED AND SINK HOLD FAST NOW LIKE THESE PLANTS THAT CLING TO THE WINDOWSILL WHERE THEY TWIST AND JINK TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THINGS WILL IMPROVE THAT THESE FOUR WALLS ARE NOT OUR DESTINED VIEW AS EACH OF THESE PLANTS WILL OUTGROW THIS ROOM SO THIS SMALL FLAT WILL BE OUTGROWN TOO

BALLAD OF THE ORANGE TREE
BORN IN ENGLAND'S LOW CHALK HILLS WHERE THE THAMES SLIDES THROUGH THE WILLOWS NEVER KNEW HOW TANGLED GREW THE TREE OF MY MOTHER'S FAMILY HISTORY

THEN ONE DAY A PHOTOGRAPH EMERGED MY GREAT-GREAT-GRANDMOTHER BY THE KERB OF A BACKSTREET SOMEWHERE IN READING HER IRUISH FEATURES BOLD AND STRIKING

ALL I'D HEARD WAS RUMOUR AND HINT OF HOW SHE'D FLED ULSTER, HER A CATHOLIC OUTCAST FOR MARRYING A PROTESTANT MAN ONE WHO WORE THE DREADED IMPERIAL TAN

SENT TO BOMBAY, MY GREAT-NAN'S BIRTHPLACE THE ARMY CONNECTION DIDN'T THEN BREAK THREE GENERATIONS SINCE HAVE WEDDED THE GUN ONE OF THEM BLED TO DEATH AT ARNHEM

AND NOW WITH GREAT SADNESS I SEE MY COUSIN HAS JOINED THE BRITISH ARMY MAYBE ONE DAY HE'LL HAVE TO SERVE ON STREETS WHERE SHE COULD NEVER RETURN

NOTHING OF HER PAST NOW REMAINS ALL IRISH CONNECTIONS WERE SLICED AWAY AS OUR FAMILY GREW ON IN A DIFFERENT PLACE LIKE AN ORANGE TREE IN WOODEN CRATE

SCRAPING BACK THE SOIL IN A BARREN FIELD I FIND A RUSTY GUN STAMPED IN WITH THE HEEL A FAMILY SOWN WITH KING'S SHILLING SEED NOW ROOTED IN THE THAMES VALLEY GREEN

BURY THE GUN UNDER THE ORANGE TREE

THE DEVIL'S ADDRESS
I’M IN HEAVEN THAT’S WHAT THE SIGN SAYS THIS BAR’S MORE LIKE HELL, EVERYTHING PAINTED RED EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE A TRUCK GOES BY HEADED NORTH HEADLIGHTS FLASHING ACROSS THESE SMOKY WALLS IF YOU WANT TO FIND ME JUST POST A LETTER TO ‘HAPPINESS’ BUT MARK IT CARE-OF CARE OF THE DEVIL’S ADDRESS I STARTED DRIFTIN’ WHEN I COULDN’T PAY THE RENT ON THAT MOBILE HOME, WAS MORE LIKE A SHED I SPENT EVERY WINTER JUST A WATCHIN’ THE RAIN TURN THAT GRAVEL PATH INTO A LAKE NOW I’M FINE AND DANDY BUT I’M ALL ALONE JUST ME AND THE SPARKLE OF THE TARMAC ROAD THOUSAND MILES BEHIND ME, WIFE’S IN ANOTHER MAN’S BED THOUSAND MILES AHEAD OF ME BEFORE I’LL EVER REST

THE FACTORY
MEN ARE RIDING ACROSS THE WINTER FIELDS BYCYCLE LIGHTS SPARKLING IN CHROME WHEELS WORKING DUSK TO DAWN IN THE FACTORIES WHOSE LIGHTS SHINE THROUGH THE TREES OH CAN’T YOU SEE, CAN’T YOU SEE THIS USED TO BE A FACTORY NOW THOSE MEN ONLY RIDE IN THEIR DREAMS THE FACTORIES ARE GONE, ONLY FIELDS OF WEEDS AND THOSE MEN HAVE GRANDSONS WITH COMPANY CARS YOU CAN SEE THEM EVERY DAY RACING AROUND THE BYPASS BUT TEN MILES OUT OF TOWN THERE’S A SCRAPYARD WHERE THEIR FIFTY YEARS OF LABOUR IS FALLING APART IF YOU STARE INTO THE RUSTY CHROME BUMPERS YOU’LL SEE THE GHOSTS OF MEN POLISHING BONNETS AND WHEELS

MY FATHER’S TREES
WELL NOW I’M OVER FORTY AND ALL MY GOOD LUCK’S BEEN SPENT I WISH I COULD GO BACK TO THE PLACES THAT I’VE LEFT OH I WISH I COULD BE SITTIN IN THE SHADE OF MY FATHER’S TREES HE PLANTED THEM IN ‘63 NOW THEY’RE SO BIG AND TALL BUT THE ROAD HE PLANTED THEM BY ISN’T A ROAD ANY MORE AND THERE’S A LINE OF CARAVANS PARKED IN THE WAY AND THERE’S A LITTLE KID SITTIN’ IN THE SHADE JUST DRINKIN LEMONADE

RAIN COMING DOWN

SHE STOOD AT THE WINDOW CRYING AS THE STORM DRIFTED OVER THE TOWN LIGHTNING FLASHED BEHIND THE CHURCH STEEPLE AS THOSE BLACK CLOUDS CREPT AROUND AND SHE WATCHED THE RAIN COMING DOWN ON OXFORD TOWN NOW HE WAS HEADED FOR SOUTHAMPTON THROUGH FLAT AND BATTERED FIELDS IN HIS MIND HE SAW HER AT THE WINDOW STILL GLASS MISTING AS SHE BREATHED HEAVILY HE COULDN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED THE LIGHTS WERE ON THE BED WAS STAINED HE’D LEFT HIS JACKET THERE ON THE CHAIR SHE HADN’T TURNED OFF THE RECORD, LEFT IT PLAYING JUST SAT THERE SAYING NOTHING AND WATCHING THE STORM COMING…

THE LYNTON AND LYNMOUTH FLOOD

WELL NO-ONE KNEW WHERE ALL THE WATER CAME FROM ON THAT FATEFUL DAY BUT IT CAME DOWN LIKE A WALL AND WASHED THE HOUSES AWAY SOME POOR FOLKS WERE DROWNED AND SOME POOR FOLKS SURVIVED AND TO THIS DAY NO-ONE KNOWS THE REASON WHY THAT WATER RAN SO FAST AND HIGH THE NIGHT OF THE LYNTON FLOOD MY DAD WAS JUST A BOY OF TWELVE, DIDN’T LOOK HIS AGE IN A PHOTO TAKEN THERE TWELVE MONTHS BEFORE THE ROAD BENEATH HIS BYCYCLE WHEEL JUST SLID AWAY AND THE HOUSE BEHIND DISAPPEARED INTO MUD AND CLAY I WAS THERE IN ’76 WITH ANOTHER BUNCH OF KIDS ART STUDENTS DRAWING WITH CHARCOAL STICKS WHEN I SAW THE MONUMENT HIGH UP ON THE WALL SHOWING WHERE THAT FLOOD POURED THROUGH THE NIGHT OF THE LYNTON FLOOD

WISHING FIELD
CAN’T SHAKE THE MUD FROM MY HEELS FEEL LIKE A TRACTOR SUNK UP TO ITS WHEELS EVERY TIME I TRY TO QUIT AND RUN AWAY I KEEP COMING BACK TO THIS OLD CLAY FURTHER OUT I GO THE DEEPER IN I PLUNGE FEEL THIS SOIL DEEP INSIDE MY LUNGS NEVER GONNA ESCAPE THESE WISHING FIELDS I’M TIED TO THESE WISHING FIELDS NOW MY FATHER AND HIS FATHER BEFORE HIM BELIEVED IN THIS LAND, BELIEVED IN EVERYTHING BUT ONE MAN CAN’T TURN A FAILING FARM AROUND I’LL DIE A POOR MAN, LAID IN THIS COLD GROUND NOW THE BAD WEATHER NEVER SEEMS TO LEAVE BLACK HAIL IS A SEEPING THROUGH THE TREES I’M STARING DEEP INTO A POISONED WELL WISHING I COULD DRAG MYSELF AWAY FROM THIS HELL THE WISHING FIELDS

BACK OF BEYOND

I CAME BACK FROM THE NORTH COUNTRY ON A COLD WINTER’S NIGHT IN ‘63 ALL I COULD SEE ALL AROUND ME WERE DEAD TREES BLOWING IN THE BREEZE PEOPLE WON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELLS BEEN GOING ON THIS AIN’T THE PLACE I REMEMBER COMING FROM FEELS LIKE THE BACK THE BACK OF BEYOND THE STATION’S CLOSED, WEEDS BETWEEN THE RAILS NOBODY WAITING EVEN FOR THE GHOST OF A TRAIN SEEMS LIKE THE HEART OF THIS TOWN NO LONGER BEATS THERE’S NOTHING AT ALL MOVING DOWN THESE DESERTED STREETS WELL I WALKED INTO THE ONLY PLACE I KNEW THE OLD BAR EXPECTING A FRIENDLY FACE OR TWO BUT EVERYBODY I KNEW HAD ALREADY GONE PEOPLE LOOKED AT ME LIKE I NEVER HAD BELONGED MARY WARNED ME NOT TO TRY AND GO BACK TOLD ME NO GOOD CAME OVER GOING BACK ON YOUR TRACKS FELL LIKE I’M LOST NOW, IN SOME DARK DREAM ALL I CAN SEE IS THOSE DEAD TREES SHAKING IN THE BREEZE

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