merchandisewords

I don't think you should have too much trouble making the lyrics out on the discs but we thought that you should have the opportunity to read our long time collaborator Roger Williams' lyrics in their full glory. 

There are also a few of my sorry efforts written when Roger was dawdling and we needed words fast! The newest stuff is at the top and the oldest stuff at the bottom (in terms of when it was released not when it was written).

Roger always gives me grief about using lyrics he wrote ages ago so I should point out that he's written plenty of great newer stuff that we haven't put into songs or which haven't been release yet (sorry lad!). 

So keep your eyes peeled for further utterings of genius as and when Con and I get our sorry arses in gear and record the new tunes!  Enjoy!

  Songs from Merchandise's second album

"lo-tech solutions to hi-tech problems" (in record order)

Beautiful Morning for a Bad Day (Brad B. Wood)

I’m stealing some speed from gravity

As I head down the hill to my home

There’s a lot of people in this world

Who do not want to be know

Well I can’t say I know a thing about you

That you did not want me to know

And now as far as I’m concerned

There’ll be nothing to miss when you go

It’s a beautiful morning for a bad day

I’m fighting an old man off with his stick

As long as his life

He’s drunk too much for this time of day

And now he’s stumbling home

Another day for thinking though

I’ll resolve nothing by tonight

Seems to me a waste of time

Trying to get things right

It’s a beautiful morning for a bad day

14:53 (Roger Williams)
 

These defences are Constantinople walls

Three metres thick, designed impregnable

So tell me how the hell did you get in?

Traitors in the watchtower again

Endlessly

You dragged your ships around my harbour chain

Anchored somewhere deeper than a strait

I'll run through my excuses with a sword

And pay more tributes than I can afford

Endlessly

When I check my watch it will be 14:53

(lovingly rehearsed, anticipated)

No engaging powers of persuasion

When he strays from the script that you created

Together in the calm eye of a dream

But dreams are made of water. Understand

That dreams are made of water. Understand

That water and stretched phone lines don’t seem to mix

And nor do you for all you planned

Intercontinental phoneline echo

Catapults your feeble words back at you

Catapults your feeble words back at you

You feel as far away from yourself as you sound

Wishing you could join the cables underground

Wishing you could join the cables underground

Wishing you could join the cables underground

For the Shore (Roger Williams)

What’s the shelf life of a metaphor

When it’s all been said before?

And much of it no doubt to you

Who makes all tongues eloquent

I had to turn to alchemy

To coin the words you’re needy of

But still I couldn’t scrape together

Anything which seemed worth saying

I should have thrown the book at you -

The love the waves have for the shore

Which makes them charge against the cliff

Just to claim the smallest part

Winter (Roger Williams)

Winter can’t lay frozen fingers on me

 Nor make its darkness seep beneath my skin 

Nor render every day’s reception frosty 

Because it’s you girl i’m wrapped up in 

Now is the winter of my contentment 

In your arms i’ll never feel the chill 

Immune from dejection and resentment 

Immune from each and every other ill

Charlie Parker was a Hobo (Brad B. Wood)

 Does it all strike you as it should or do you feel somewhat underwhelmed

Do you have a place you’ve got to be or have you stopped at last

Can you ever pack everything you own and is this space somewhere like home

 Has there ever been any place like this and are you ready for another risk

Have you now met everyone you want to or are there more for whom you’ll play 

Do you think you’ll jump the train next week or will you plant your roots and stay

The Single:

Swallowing Curses (Roger Williams)

Breaking the habit, breaking the surface

Breathing the air without tasting the lead

Measuring time in non-alcohol units

Swallowing Curses and singing instead

Vaulting the fences and crossing the rivers

Embracing the white-water surge of the flow

Facing the danger, placing the wager

Paying the debts back and stealing the show

Parting the clouds and parting the curtains

Departing the platform too frequently paced

Charting the courses, marshalling forces

walking the love lines so longingly traced

Reciting the lyrics, igniting the spirits

Eating the manna, defeating the djinns

Recanting the mantra which near pulled me under

Recalling the laughter, repenting the sins

Sensing the pattern, sensing the humour

Losing the needle, regaining the thread

Ringing the changes, roaming the ranges

Torpedoing pirate ships to the sea bed

Taming the tiger, climbing the Eiger

Plugging volcanoes and speaking in tongues

Stoking the fire, revoking the sanctions

Claiming the jackpot and climbing the rungs

Songs from the album This is . . . Merchandise

New Resurrection (Brad B. Wood)

Looking in the mirror I see myself young

Though the sounds of aging are rising from my lungs

In the future

What I need is:

A new resurrection

A new resurrection

A new resurrection

Books (Brad B. Wood)

I’ve been living with my addled mind for a while

And I feel to heavy to try

There’s a lot of time in a lonely life

To watch people go by

The odd sunrise is a welcome site

Up in the morning or straight through the night

So I got up in the morning

And I did for myself what I’d only read in books now

I did for myself what I’d only read in books now

In books now

Unmapped Streets (Roger Williams)

Your parting shot

It was a shot of whisky

Now flowing round my veins

So now I keep my distance

From a thousand things that crush me

Now one step removed

My load is light

As light as my head

Not everybody knows

Their destination

But I know I’m going somewhere

Each minute finding

The strength to stumble on

As long as I move I know I won’t corrode inside

Even if I bring toxins along for the ride

No turning points for me

And no more memory

No turning points and no memory

You pinned me down with reference points

And now I’m throwing the map away

On the run forever

Stumbling around unmapped streets

With a cocktail of fruit juices, poisons

And antidotes

Only wishing, only wishing

That there was someone to run with me

Will you run with me?

Will you run with me?

welcome to merchandise  - where words can break your bones