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2009
Fall of Iron
2009
On the Viking Station
1994
10 Years Inside the Horse
1994
10 Years Inside the Horse
1991
The Guns of Castle Cary
1991
The Guns of Castle Cary
1990
Alnwick & Tyne
1990
Alnwick & Tyne
1989
Pont Au-Dessus De La Brue
1989
Pont Au-Dessus de la Brue
1988
The Barman and Other Stories
1988
The Barman and Other Stories
Blyth Power Jun 02, 2019
Thank you to Dave, Hugo, Ian/Humdrum Express, Eddie and everyone who came along for a special night at Songs of Anger and Redemption. We had a blast 😊
Blyth Power May 10, 2019
Start the Party Remember how it used to be As boys we marched for destiny We thought we had the future in our hands Remember just how good it felt The uniforms the boots and belts We little thought that fate had other plans It all began in a seaside town A band of brothers gathered round To raise a glass and drink to better days And though our leader’s dead and gone We’ve all grown up but not moved on The time has come and the standard must be raised We never dreamed in the end it was going to last Who could have seen in the end it was coming to pass A cry in the morning a shriek in the night The sun on the morning is summery bright But who could have seen that tomorrow belonged to the past So close the ranks the party’s started Close the ranks it’s been restarted Close the ranks and everybody come on at a run For a holiday in the sun Now they meet up once a year In an old beer hall on a rickety pier The old the sick the palsied and the lame The broken winded broken hearted Very soon to be late departed Time rolls on and the old songs stay the same But it’s good to be back And it’s a pay cheque Jack It’s money for old rope To pay for the beer and the fags and the speed and the cider and the dope Rebel on demand You dug up the sacred bones of my teenage years and you paid them to dance And I wonder why You don’t just fuck off and die Goodbye
Blyth Power May 09, 2019
Canard’s Grace Sweet green the valley in the deepest slumber lies All around the eaves the swallows and the martins stoop and fly And all along the riverbank the old dog otters lee And watch the muddy waters slowly trickle by My father called me over to his library by and by Disdainful was his summons and in a deep distemper I Put on my winning smile and donned a callow guise To dazzle him to charm and to paralyse He said the Woodvilles have a nursery full with second sons to spare There’s a squire at Bolton Percy has no wife and needs an heir And there are clerics clerks and clergy each and everyone prepared To pay good money for you down and I want my share My father as blood stock was bartering me Like flies around me thick they crawled then willing and so keen And soon a suitor had accepted and a price for me agreed And all his blessings gave the blushing bride to be So how much will you pay me and when To bite back my laughter and promise forever amen To honour obey and together our wedding night spend To have and hold and give back again Great vapours then affecting how I weeping swore While trying hard not to stamp upon the library floor I said I’ll marry just for love and for nothing more Nor his money take nor honour pawn This looks just like my daughter then my father cried This mad gorgon all dressed up here as a Lamas bride Deep birchwoods of cunning within you lie Deep malice and ill manners hide Then my mantle I ripped and my bodice tore Rare vases I smashed as I slammed the door Great man-eating leopards within me roared And with hammers smashing smote the manor walls But I’ll manage I’ll marry my word I gave And I’ll hound the poor fool deep into an early grave With grief his bedfellow and courtesan maid Unwilling there together laid So how much will you pay me and when To drag my white bodybag down to the altar in chains Slip the ring over my finger and promise again
Blyth Power May 08, 2019
Not long until this. Songs, Anger, Redemption and the very splendid Humdrum Express. Hurrah!
Blyth Power May 08, 2019
Timelines Strike mission flown White-winged Pegasus turns for home Target marked as Recon roans Engage and intercept you Lancing on air Harridan fast in a mountain lair Serpent tongue and snakes for hair To armour and protect you From love under will Shock, awe, terror by smoke concealed Broke convention, turned your spears And petrified I left you Blackhawk come in on the radio CASEVAC ready to go See men down and see men drown And leave the dead for the crows Timeline All the time, time lies Centuries had passed Minos toppled to dust and ash White-winged Pegasus out to grass Finds time for introspection Through slack-water days In out cool grey city not far away With time to sleep and time to play And time for self-deception Black hawk come in on the radio Battery light is low With a song to spare but the dead won’t care And an epitaph ready to go Timeline All the time, time lies Now time standing still With time in hand has time to kill Casts no long shadows on distant fields Where in centuries past I fought you And I tried everywhere But the bridges we’d burned were beyond repair So I kicked and I bit and I pulled your hair Til I’d no one left to talk to And in time back again By steamship clipper and diesel train Old and no wiser I homeward came And like a sickness I have caught you
Blyth Power May 07, 2019
Satiromastix Ixion spins Athena scores Now the bull from the sea has come back from the wars She’s taking a turn around Jericho’s walls Looking down at her besiegers She said you’ve been banished he asked her what for She said you’re a thief and he said you’re a whore When she said ‘that’s subjective and it comes to us all’ He was inclined to disbelieve her And as the marks on the masonry fade out and fail The dead men deserting bid fondly farewell And Acropolis crumbles she’s painting her nails So on I’ll go, now I don’t want to leave her City of God thy bonds will be free Once Lysistrata throws you the key But I’m changing my spots and I’m crossing the sea And I groped for the door and it opened for me Sunrise in the morning and I’m fresh out of words She’s been lighting the pyre I’ve been writing her verse I’ve been kissed by the muse but she hit on me first So on I’ll go and I’m trying my best to please her Stripped of his majesty bartered and sold The King came North on the London road We watched as his garrison plundered and stole Resigned to the procedure They took all we offered and they took all we owned They found what we’d hidden and kept what we loaned And his blessing upon us though freely bestowed Didn’t help to make things easier So we suffered in silence and bided our time Through the tolls and the tariffs the levies and fines Because what’s yours will be yours and what’s mine will be mine But what is Caesar’s due we’ll gladly give to Caesar City of God on a flood tide bore With the tears and the smears and the fear of the Fall And the cleansing fire of that terrible sword And its curse were dispersed and defied and ignored Sunrise in the morning I’ve nothing to lose I’ve been writing inspired by her striking the fuse There’s a deal on the table that I cannot refuse So on I’ll go embattled and beleaguered Flower of England as Queen of the May Came back to the stage in a West End play You picked her up out along Memory Lane Put her in a cauldron boil and drain But don’t fall asleep on the job don’t let it burn dry again The Devil breaks the hands of idle men Oh sir I have the matter in hand And I know how hard to pull the lever Now Ixion’s pinned Athena’s abroad The bull from the sea went and fell on his sword The girl in the photograph’s vanity’s cured And we’re proud of her demeanour The marks on the masonry have nothing to tell As the clock on the church chimes the quarter bell The King on his donkey rode back down to Hell For all I know… City of God thy bonds will be free We come to live and to reign in thee Still stands the church clock at ten to three And the cat’s in the kitchen so he can’t catch me Sunrise in the morning as high as it goes I’ve been planting in rhyme I’ve been ploughing in prose With my ring on her finger the spell on me grows So on I’ll go though I’m an unbeliever
Blyth Power May 06, 2019
Broadlands Feel the lapse of hours pass time has betrayed me Flower-lulled in sleepy grass cocooned like a baby Memories come back to me and frequently amaze me Of all the things I could have done had I not been so lazy Born and raised in the mystic vale and on Norfolk’s wet polders Where the broccoli stems and the curly Kale by the wild wind’s bowled over We have no friends and we have no fun as we just get angrier and older Doubled down beneath the weight of the chips on our shoulder We won’t rise for the morning cock We won’t rise when it’s cold We won’t rise when the fire guard cries of fire down below We won’t rise before the sun is up We won’t rise before noon We won’t rise when the warning cry of the siren sounds too soon We styled ourselves as gentlemen spotless and stainless But in the gambling halls and drinking dens our conduct was shameless We had apes for friends and certain gentlemen who shall remain nameless And oh The Sun will shy us down when we become famous We travelled far we travelled wide and sampled every flavour From Poland cold to the rolling plains of Saxony and Westphalia Where side by side to the coalface hired we rented out our labour And we’ve had seasons in the sun that we’ve not been paid for But where have all our summers blown now the days have grown shorter Ambitions to the winds have flown but their wings have all faltered And fortune free gave back to me the plain gold ring I bought her With all the bread and fishes gone and the wine turned to water
Blyth Power May 05, 2019
Slip into Unity Mosley or Slump Mosley or Slump Chaos needs occupation stop the rot and man the pumps Mosley or Slump a face upon the screen Brownshirts on the newsreels in Time and Lifestyle magazines Now marching off to war in a midnight mass parade A pale impersonation of another man’s crusade To torchlight bearer’s song and Mitford sisters’ sighs But there is no strength in Unity just madness in her eyes Mosley or Slump the writing on the wall The revolution’s over now there’s nothing Left at all Your effort was in vain your vision strange but true But the people you believed in never once believed in you But strode another path their benedictions gave By a dream of wealth and pleasure and celebrity betrayed And their hands upon the cross by debt and mortgage nailed Were taxed then with a lottery that paid for Sadlers Wells Mosley or Slump freedom of choice It’s the popular vote for the popular voice Mosley or Slump and the people will see Come swiftly make history come strictly come dancing with me Mosley or Slump as expectation fades And English towns and villages become English everglades Where pitbull passions thrive and aspirations rot And life is beer and football because life without is not By charter then enshrined for electoral respite A pact of xenophobia to guarantee the Right In a melting pot of greed of ignorance and vice That heeds no politicians if they cannot dance on ice Mosley or Slump to bleed or to bruise Which side of the bed are you going to choose? Mosley or Slump terror or pain Did you heat up the knife before you opened the vein? Mosley or Slump ride me to ruin I don’t know what I want I don’t know what I’m doing Mosley or Slump I know how it looks But I was only warming my hands while they were burning the books
Blyth Power May 04, 2019
Mercury Rising A cold moon disguised as Mercury rising in Venus Divided we stand a line on the sand drawn between us As the end of the story foretold Soft she unseen on moth-wings serene interceding With Lichtenstein beam paints a face on the screen now receding And there at the end of the road All her mete words and kindness unfold But will we still be friends when you’ve turned me to stone? Pawns threaten kings as the centre game begins the proceedings Knights countermand, Bishop wrings his hands disbelieving And with Rooks Queens and Castles in tow It’s into the Endgame we go Will we still be friends when you turn me to stone Will we last forever all time or will bitterness show In the cracks in the facings the track marks and holes The rats in the basement and the paths we once rode Spiralling round into the valley down below And when you’ve turned me to stone Will you still be the power behind the throne Now marching skyward banners raised By hands invisible the gentle and the brave Beside their silent sisters prayed Cut to action as the song began to fade I rang the bell and ran away Now I live to fight another day And I’m armed, damned, time out of hand hasn’t cured me And though recollections fade let the Watergate parade passed before me And leads me backward in anger and so I wonder will I ever know Will we still be friends when you’ve turned me to stone Will we last forever all time or will bitterness show In the cracks in the facings the track marks and holes Rats in the basement and the paths we once rode Spiralling round into the valley down below And when you’ve turned me to stone When I am crumbled into dust and overthrown Will your cover then be blown Or will you still be the power behind the throne
Blyth Power May 03, 2019
After Grantchester Just now the skylarks have come home to roost The twilight quiet and midge-diffused Backfilled with shadows emblazes the sky With sunset low and contrails high With the fading close of play inbound Airliners pierce sporadic clouds Through pink into gold and empurpling blue And chemtrail theorists’ poisons strew Still tethered, the neighbours’ unfed dog At night’s fall cries its monologue April’s failures still ungroomed Retiring shy have yet to bloom But heads unbowed incline to sleep As the ink across the garden creeps Bats unleashed with sightless cries On cabbage moths and silver-Ys In vectors dance on slippered wings And there are countless country garden things In the heavens. The North Star is duly logged While the grass below is still waterlogged If I could afford it I’d get on a train And ride up and down the depleted remains Of the lines I remember, the land I once knew Defeated, dismembered, divided in two Memories threaten slow frames pass Steam heat high in second class Empty stations, amber lights From the Citadel Northbound overnight We’d measure each passing mile and chain Southbound change ride back again Public relations designed to confuse Mix bright-eyed lies with half-veiled truths Service and quality, watchwords today Say ‘giving you less and there’s more to pay’ Merchant princes come and go Leaving footprints cast in glass and stone Market forces yet prevail Divisive, sly, and unassailed And clever. We smile as we hold the door Nor bite the hand we’re working for In England’s green and pleasant land In England’s green and pleasant land So cap the arch gold plate our chains Watch the money go tumbling down the drain In England’s green and pleasant land So here we sit a race apart With no one to blame but our foolish hearts We sold the ox and plucked the rose And have nothing to show but the Emperor’s clothes Faithful nation set in pawn By toothless lions and unicorns Land of grocers windows dressed Where ‘Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori’ is still in store And God knows not worth fighting for So we’ll get what we’re given, take what they say Then we’ll clean up the mess at the end of the day The bindweed and ivy, the bicycle frames And all the baggage and trash that you won’t throw away But in this garden I made for you It’s still the summer of 1972 The cat’s asleep, and the harvest’s in So we can sit and watch the spiders spin Forever. The first birds waking calls Find none astir on England’s shores In England’s green and pleasant land In England’s green and pleasant land So cap the arch gold plate our chains Watch the money go tumbling down the drain In England’s green and pleasant land Lord of the Flies has left the stage Lined with pyramids raised on a minimum wage In England’s green and pleasant land
Blyth Power May 02, 2019
Death and a Lady Death swept away by a lady In the course of his duties espied In robes richly dressed embarked upon his quest For glory as an angel disguised He let the groom take his horse to the stable By the butler was conducted to her side His heart he produced as he knelt and pressed his suit And engaged her affectionate eye Away then she led him to her chamber To listen while he told her of his plans And there without duress over menthol cigarettes She readily gave in to his demands Sir she said I’d never trust a stranger But since you are an angel I’ll be damned He stripped and he peeled ‘til his long bones revealed He said here I have damnation in my hand Then Death went to bed with the lady Coupling they cast their masks aside He rattled shook and roared while she beneath implored As he took her where no doves will ever fly Then sir she said you never were an angel When trembling they had quenched each other’s fires He answered her no nor ever will be so And you never were an lady besides They fled and were wed fast together Each strives to keep the other satisfied But somewhere far away it’s over darkness and the grave That death and his lady preside
Blyth Power May 01, 2019
Katherine It’s been a year or so I would say The second week in May Lambs were out in the green fields The children down in the courtyard played There were guests in the hall to stay For a neighbourhood wedding on the following day I went for a walk to the clean moors And slowly strolling bent my way Seeing through the eyes of God I sunlit lands uplifted trod Friend to the fox and the hare And all of broad creation there Everything happening at last Faith restored and winter past But I sang from a heart of brass Like a man who’s come in from the cold too fast Then a jackdaw spoke up from a tree I’m sick of the sound of your voice said he Your love is in trust neither fool nor free And a love to be fought not won must be Her kiss is the price of your ruin Her tongue and her touch your bleak undoing So he leaped from the branch with an angry cry To dwindle south in the hot blue sky Katherine I pray Now that you’ve found me how long will you stay Nightfall offered no clue As the bats embattled in the twilight flew We sat and we talked or serene in thought Watched as deepening shadows drew Shards on the silver lawn And a pale moon rose as the night wore on But the Devil knows what between us arose And advanced before the dawn came on Morning rose confused With life at a slant and the light askew The dogs were scared but the cats just stared And the cockerel would not do The rookery silent froze As I puzzling paused to greet the crows The frogs sat fast in the millpond For reasons undisclosed So hey – how does this find you? What did you do? What did they make you say? What could they prove? How did they make you stay? What did they say they would take away from you? That it would make you pay And what did they ask you to choose? So a year’s gone down the drain The grass is slick and wet with the rain But the crops can rot in the fields As the wheels get stuck in the ruts in the lane And Katherine’s arms displayed In a crude tattoo on my red flesh flayed Say thanks for all the dreams boy And thanks for all the mess you made…
Blyth Power Apr 30, 2019
Some more unrecorded songs for you, this batch is expected to form the next CD, The Power Behind the Throne... Black Box You can’t see out of a black box You can’t see over a wall too high to be climbed Raised in a prism With light retractable blinding from every side Dogs in a manger We crawled out from under a stone Fair-weather strangers Our children never quite at home Pulled some ragged threads together Signed off the forms and filed the claim Checked its pulse and checked its measure I cast around and found the bastard child a name Was this house built on sand Unsure foundations crumbling under the strain Bend and break it Kick it all down and start all over again Make it better make it stronger Change direction every day Songs get stranger songs get longer With every extra chord we asked the band to play Far away is close at hand in images of elsewhere An eye for an eye and a hand for a hand The decks were wet with the sweat we left We regret we have nothing more to offer Than our thanks for all the nights we play Along dark strands of motorway And the wheels stick in the cracked road’s remains But the broad horizons always take my breath away Fish were rising In the meadow larks limitless soar Extemporising That if the cap won’t fit then the going isn’t easy at all Once rebel angels Pressmen paid to appease Effectively change us Into yes men trained, ready and willing to please We lost sight of land Unmarked unlabelled charts and tables won’t show We left tracks in desert sands Led no revival, no survivors are known So has the mission creep refined us Have all our best years yet to pass Or will all those missing miles behind us Drag us down and hold us under at last Far away is close at hand in images of elsewhere An eye for an eye and a hand for a hand The decks were wet with the sweat we left We regret we have nothing more to offer Than our thanks for all the nights we play Along dark strands of motorway And the wheels stick in the cracked road’s remains But the broad horizons always take my breath away And the wheels still stick In the cracked road’s remains And the slow hands tick by In the black night shade And the deck hands sick By the tempest frayed pray As the wheels stick
Blyth Power Apr 08, 2019
Harrowing of Hope In this land of kings Of saints and heroes we speak and sing If we make up our minds we can do anything We lay our hand we play our spin Kicking open any door that won’t let us in By dice commanded we creep and sting But God who in his wisdom gave the sparrow wings Made oceans rise and the compass swing To show What we need what we fear how to steer through the ice floes Look out below Listen out for the morning cock, for his warning crow It was a long time ago Late September and summer showing Rust on the branches and the stubble mown By Greenland geese skeins overflown When into the scheme of things By lancers banners and riders ringed St George plays the Dragon off against everything Neighbours friends and next of kin Is that his badge that I see you wearing on your sleeve? Will you hand him manna? Remain or leave? Do you believe what you see or only see what you believe? And will you bend the knee? Well that’s no barrier no There isn’t any time any place anywhere that we won’t go Look out below Listen out for the morning cock, for his warning crow Make us bright as silver Make us good as gold And when the martyrs and the madmen Make our blood run cold Make us warm as summer roses Soft as summer rain And so let us remain So let the Dragon take St George Let her plunge the life from him, break his sword Crack open his armour and eat him bloody raw Expend his armies, blunt his force And when she’s battered down the queen of the day And her grand stone palaces blown away Harrowing the rubble let her fury play Nor stone unturned nor trace remain Then let her take to her wings and rise To where God is hiding behind the sky Naked and foolish in his human guise To cleanse and burn and cauterise And so We can see what we need now we know what we don’t know Look out below Listen out for the morning cock, for his warning crow
Blyth Power Apr 06, 2019
Kissing the Gunner’s Daughter Last year’s Valentines A tattered packet full of verses that I left behind That never made it to the letterbox on time Good intentions Last year’s valentines Hidden messages between the purple lines Secreted in the meter and repeated in the rhymes I never sent them I could have spared them Could better have prepared them For that rusty canon full of lies designed to tell them Of lines crossed Of love’s labours lost And how it’s never too late to count the cost Flash traffic form battle line It’s a military metaphor – maritime Ship was holed below the water line So we left her It’s a Madagascar A tube disaster A big ring circus without the clowns the crowds and the laughter With strawberry girls From around the World Acting Venus without the furs Then the only way up is down To walk the streets of a different town Another wonderland prepared For Alice through the looking glass to share You think the past is a perfect tense Smiling back never taking offence But memories mingle, merge, inimical Sometimes sad and sometimes cynical Fade to whitewash, grade to clinical What did you expect – a bloody miracle? Rope and halter If you take the horse to water Pretty soon you’ll find him kissing the Gunner’s daughter Razor blades in role plays Paint different colours in different shades Last year’s Valentines Were only meant to turn the water into wine They never made it to the letterbox on time I never sent them…
Blyth Power Apr 05, 2019
Another early draft... Set in Stone We’d sat by the sullen brown city a decade or more Each night to the campfires for comfort we’d gather disdainful resentful and bored There’s wisdom in wine But most of the time It’s better unspoken and certainly better ignored So we soaked up our sorrows together our backs to the war Everyone drinking and nobody thinking and nobody cared As the spirit took hold there were stories retold that we usually wouldn’t have shared Mocking aloud Olympians proud But like soldiers all over we do and be damned as we dare And I in my wisdom said more than my share ‘Athena’s no maiden’ I brayed ‘but I’d go for a ride First I’d make with my fists then I’d come on her tits then I’d cast the old baggage aside Hera I’d plough Like a farrowing sow As for Medusa I’d use her if only her face I could hide For her eyes can cut diamonds and her serpents cold comfort provide With Hecate to guide me I’d blaze a path to her door Where she’d fall on her knees to appease, by the strength and the length of my manhood appalled And I wouldn’t be snared For I’d come prepared I’d put a bag on her head and I’d mount from behind like a boar And when I’d finished my business the bitch would be begging for more’ Euan! Euan! Euoi! Euoi! For you to abuse for me to destroy Like a battering ram on the city deployed I asked for a man but you only sent me the boy Wrapped up like a treat in his armour I hadn’t the strength to enjoy Baleful, malevolent, no other words can describe The face that broke into my dreams as I turned and I tossed in my blanket that night She said ‘I overheard Your every word Now I’ll watch and I’ll look and I’ll listen but time will prevail And when you draw your last breath I’ll be waiting to take you to Hell Perseus deceived me. A matter too grave to ignore Now he statuesque stands in the ranks of those heroes who tried to defeat me before So I’ll turn you to stone To wait at my throne Stripped of your arms and I’ll teach you some manners I’m sure And your petrified member can please me without all your boasts to endure’
Blyth Power Apr 04, 2019
Seven Summers Seven long hot summers passed As seven rolling vistas Seven prides for seven kings And seven sleeping sisters 73 to Newington Green Dalston Junction in between Clapton, Canonbury, Camden Town Homerton, Hoxton, and Hackney Downs Given the dream I’ve been living in seems such a surreal world I was hoping I’d never have to get out and live in the real world Back to back living day to day In the love of the common people Who we never quite trust as they hate our guts Because the papers say we’re evil Nosey neighbours keeping watch Nervous twitch as you change the lock Safe as houses safe in bed All fall down with an eighth of Leb Charity, chips and living in skips exciting Cigarette butts on the tube train floor inviting So what’s your occupation? What’s your name? What are your aspirations? High Court Judge Crown Prince Prime Minister? Where’s your indignation? Where’s your shame? Status flag and nation? Three white doves on a black bend sinister Hither page come stand by me If thou know’st it telling Yonder peasant who is he On the overground from Welwyn He’s the Prince of Peace my liege Of iambic verse and minor keys Bard of Hertford come to reign Southbound platform Moorgate train So the unfathomable soul of punk with his carrier bags and flares Opens a night of three chord thrash to a room that’s not prepared Travellers want to use my bath And can they run a wire Hook up the truck til winter’s past Smoking round the fire They’re telling me how I should live on the road Get off my back and dump my load City living’s not for me Shit in my toilet drink my tea Telling me how they fought with the pigs at the Beanfield Telling me I need to get out and go walk in the green fields So signing day comes round again Apprise my early warning Booth 3b at 9am Sleepwalk through the morning Claims and papers signs and forms UB40 roached and torn Personal Issue bulletproof screens Freshly minted broken dreams Spurstowe Terrace ‘lost my claim’ but I don’t see how Ask my number ask my name they should know by now… Counter payment took a full day Of mild dystopian fiction But I played the bandit, made it pay Got to know the system Break the cipher, find the key Hurrying back with a BIC Plough that furrow, dig that seam Scented Giro pink and green ‘I am an angry passionate soul crying out in this tortured mediocrity’ My head up my arse looking back down the hole is my accommodation with this bureaucracy So what’s your occupation? What’s your name? What are your aspirations? High Court Judge Crown Prince Prime Minister? Where’s your indignation? Where’s your shame? Status flag and nation? Three white doves on a black bend sinister
Blyth Power Apr 03, 2019
We do like traditional folk themes here. This is what should have happened when Janet went up to Carterhaugh... Janet’s Tithe Tousled witless sleep-benumbed Midnight whistles at my door Nightjar bids me wake and come Leads me up to Carterhaugh Fetched my pony from the yard Tied my skirts above the knee Set off northwards riding hard To watch the Hallows witan meet By unbroken paths we strayed By matted bracken blackened bark To the coven’s hidden glade In the tractless forest dark To keep my silence watch and hide And see the Devil claim his tithe Seven years my love had gone Seven years in silence passed Were seven years a widow scorned To see him standing there at last And to the Devil make his bow To Titania on her throne A lover’s kiss upon her brow I saw his armour white as bone I saw her hand upon his thigh But through the whispers in the trees I saw the triumph in her eyes And all the fairies on their knees I knew she’d played him for a fool And to the Devil paid her due I left my hiding place revealed Notched an arrow found its mark Beneath the rising breasts concealed Where I presumed she had a heart Fairies twittered at my feet But steady-eyed she raise a hand And in acceptance not defeat Girl she said I understand But I remind you you were a changeling Into this transient world of pain But you seek another country With Titania there to reign Disenchanted charming wild You are my once begotten child Deathly silence filled the air Expectant seconds gathered pace My actions caught her unawares Transfixed the smile upon her face I’d learned of love I’d learned to care Of faith of charity and hope But as the white knight stood and stared I put an arrow through his throat And though the Devil tried to curse me I shot him bleeding as he fell Cut him down and showed no mercy Sent him spinning back to Hell I felt the power within me soar And the fairies’ shock and awe Now her enchantment has been broken With all her edicts and decrees And her spells as if they never had been spoken All the fairies will be free
Blyth Power Apr 02, 2019
Another new song for your perusal... Valeria Victrix Legio Vicesima Valiant and Victorious Raised by Augustus Named by Valeria Served in Ilyria Germania Inferior Took vengeance for Varus With Germanicus and Tiberias Campaigned with Claudius Camped at Camulodonum Closed with Caratacus Consigned to Caledonia To dig stone for barricades To safeguard the border raise Earthworks and palisades Blown by the east winds Scoured by north-westerlies Archers and infantry Spearmen and auxiliaries Cast now as quarrymen To mine rocks and to carry them Left as their legacy Carvings and calligraphy Members and phalluses Tubers and tumescenses As votives and offerings And sundries in excess of this Lacrimose legionaries Bored and irascible Gardened their grievances Minoan palaces Burned by apocalypse Yielded up treasures Of trade waste and trivia Evans had discovered them But Ventris delivered them Praise be his name Among all those who have studied them In all their diversity In our great universities In schools and in colleges By eminent archeaologists Who greet them with theorems Transport and delirium Debate never wearying Paintings by primitives Bones left by scavengers The contents of stomachs In the cesspits of palaces Say we’re worth no great flattery Nor nine figure salary Our faces no statuary Our works in no gallery But we’re vouchsafed posterity If we can cry out from antiquity In a voice of anonymity By writing in lavatories
Blyth Power Mar 30, 2019
A break from new songs to bring you a video from Grim Jim, which we think is rather splendid. Thank you so much! Now, who's up for doing Morning Comes Home next?
Blyth Power Mar 29, 2019
Monty's Brothers The desert wind, a dry Sirocco Was blowing hard across the coastal plain from Egypt to Morocco Fortunes turned, we ran away Backwards to the delta to retreat in disarray We lost Tobruk we lost Gazala Because we’d nothing that could penetrate their heavy frontal armour Outperformed and undergunned We could only keep on running til we’d nowhere left to run They used the ground, the open spaces They turned their anti-aircraft guns around and shot them in our faces So we learned this bitter lesson That valour is the biggest indiscretion Then word came through, a new commander Had been sent to shake things up again by General Alexander I knew the name, and one hears rumours And then I met a chap who’d served with him on Army Group manoeuvres He said ‘He’s hard, obsessed, with winning Doesn’t gamble drink or smoke and that he’s terrified of women’ To our dismay when he appeared He looked nothing like a Spartan though his habits were austere His ears stuck out, a pair of handles As if to stop his hat from slipping with their perpendicular angles And his knees were white as lilies There was nothing to suggest he was a modern day Achilles But when he spoke it lit a fire And suddenly we’d found a new messiah Good old Monty thanks for victory For the footnote we played in history For his platitudes and his propriety And the joy we found in his society For our place at the hinge of destiny For the goal and the opportunity To lay our bones here for all eternity Let this song then our valediction be At Alamein he took a chance We dug in along the ridge and there we halted their advance Low on fuel and low on water Their shipping under pressure from our bombers based on Malta As the front began to crumble We took Germans in their thousands and Italians without number And the Fox became the quarry As we piled it on in General Grants and General Motors lorries Then came Torch and Patton landed And suddenly the struggle was no longer even handed And their rout became a scramble As they were caught between the hammer and the anvil In defeat he was unbeatable But in victory the dish became uneatable But he was our mage, he was our Merlin Although he ballsed up Market Garden and he never captured Berlin It was his tact we most admired And the way he’d send us marching through the minefields under fire We loved his style we loved his tricks We loved the way he didn’t dwell too long on casualty lists We loved the man we loved the hour And his expression of impatience when he talked to Eisenhower But he was no saint, he was no god And it was ordinary soldiers in whose giant steps he trod So when you dwell upon his name Don’t forget the rest who died along the way Good old Monty thanks for victory For the footnote we played in history For his platitudes and his propriety And the joy we found in his society For our place at the hinge of destiny For the goal and the opportunity To lay our bones here for all eternity Let this song then our valediction be
Blyth Power Mar 28, 2019
Here at Blyth HQ Mr Porter has been very busy writing new material, at a rate not seen since the week's tour of the southwest with Attila in the mid 90s. We'll be sharing the new songs for you to enjoy. Anyone wanting to ear them in person do feel free to book the duo or solo show, or indeed the band, as the band is keen to get out and about more now circumstances are more favourable... Bad Samaritan Searching new directions for my masterplan The Devil soon found work to fill my idle hands Sat interviews, assessments and I learned the codes Passed the tests with colours and then I signed the road Time divides in patterns, Eight in twenty four But I learned to love the night shifts when the quiet people call They showed me how to listen when to speak and what not to say To search for hidden subtext and try to guide it into play I’d come alive as the tension heightened towards each new story’s end So I stayed up all night talking with my imaginary friends We’re home alone and lonely facing benefit reviews Locked into a cycle of dependence and abuse Teenage mothers star-cross’d lovers censured and ashamed Furtive men with fantasies that don’t have names We’re unaligned and uninvited divided as we fall By care in a community that doesn’t care at all 02.17 off into the blue again I’ve never seen her face I’ll never know her name Her words, a broken monologue that disconnected dance And flutter in my headset like a moth against a lamp Constant inconsistence never quite belong Like a William Burroughs essay or a Patti Smith song Sex call next and I’m in the mood to play The graphic details tend to give the game away Lame erotic stories that we’ve learned to second-guess I’m supposed to end the call but I let him get it off his chest Phone rings twice then silence switchboard flickers green Echoes roll for seconds after in the nightlight’s gleam We’d talk to men in prison or come home from foreign wars To people with conditions that are clinically obscure To zealots without a mission and to workers without jobs Or those enrolled by management not fit to lead a dog Until grey light through the windows chased the voices from my head I signed off in the call book and I sent them to bed So overlook and disown me tell me I’m confused Don’t ask me how I’m feeling and I won’t tell you Own no brothers don’t help others if that’s the way you feel You can’t address a problem if you don’t believe it’s real Do you think it’s a lie just attention seeking? That’s a point of view But care in the community won’t care for you
Blyth Power Feb 09, 2019
Thanks to 'Mr Jones' for the mention on Radio 6 last night when Steve Lamaq wanted songs about hangovers. Seems Joseph had a bit more work to do on his anti drinking message :-) x
Blyth Power Jan 19, 2019
That happy time of year when I remember accounts are due in soon... During a trek round the attic counting stock I came across probably the last ever copies of some vinyl. One copy of Pont au Dessus de la Brue (vinyl album), eight copies of Goodbye to all That (12"), six copies of Better to Bat (12") and some Wild Card to Play (7"). Anyone interested please get in touch :)
Blyth Power Dec 10, 2018
Thinking of Blyth Power Top Trumps, t-shirts, CDs, Ashes tickets etc. for the special someone in your life this festive time? The mailing room has been hotting up over the last couple of weeks, so please, if you are thinking of ordering anything for Christmas presents, either for yourself or others, try and do it this week, as we'd like the last trip to the post office to be Friday as Office Bound Clot No. 1 is off moonlighting next week...