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tocsins & the remedy

by Tim O'Connor

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1.
(Instrumental)
2.
Joe 04:04
he was listening to the radio joe was over in the corner he wasn’t making any fuss at all about the broadcast that he heard if things had happened a little differently or someone had noticed and been concerned and asked, “why the tears old man” instead he saw a politician at the bar and turned he watched him spewing sound-bites and cleaver racist slurs careful enough & never quite vulgar or brusque like a surgeon cutting into puss joe spoke up to remind him of beer hall fascists of the past of how tyrants twist duty and obligation and joe said, “now you explain to us” why should we sacrifice our children on the alter of your negligent desire and misanthropic husbandry of brutish self-regard? “once more, again, lest we should fail our country” you cry and rally ghouls and usurers to the charnel pits of your profit to strip the limbless and the scarred of dignity and meaning in remembrance flowers and silent vigils it seems a poor way to forget the bloody business commending butchery ordered by you weaker men so don’t look me in the eye and say it’s better now that we’re safer with your bullets and your bombs if you believed empires fell and crumbled well what’s risen from their corpse is worse than hell the careering politician laughed at joe’s concerns and threw two fifty pound notes onto the bar & the liar hooked the greedy and gullible blind fools for the price of a couple of pints yet joe saw around the edges of their shadows to where teenage faces heard him question and defy and he saw tears of a brighter future there in those young men and women’s eyes as they said we will never give up the fight joe we will never forget our right to stand together and oppose those fascists joe and recognise that their wrongs divide joe today we will unite
3.
Norman clipped the tickets daily fare by fare rode out westwards and returned to the east, to the sea and on sundays chased temperamental notes between we choristers and the secreted dreaming congregated souls seated to atone for having won the war and wondering if they’re really any better off at all if we could change what has been concede that our regrets are part of history that teaches mistakes can be redeemed and that indeed we could be better than we are better than we were and live a better life by far Mary rode the charabanc throwing conversation down the aisle “Happy birthday” ricocheted through disregarding silent riders as we traded news and laughter past disapproving cardboard cut-out neighbours and strangers on that east riding transport and then the penny dropped and Mary turned to incredulously scold you little beggar, you were drinking in my pub at just eleven years old if we could change what has been concede that our regrets are part of history that teaches mistakes can be redeemed and that indeed we could be better than we are better than we were and live a better life by far better than we are and live a better life by far Brian the chimney sweep caressed the wheel to navigate the 1033 sole artery of hope since the railway died in ‘64 his double decker congealed red blessed bearer of fleeing ideals drove roads paved not with gold but with entropy carrying comprehensive experiments and BP Chemical retirement celebrants with Tony and I toward the Trog Bar and Georgian if we could change what has been concede that our regrets are part of history that teaches mistakes can be redeemed and that indeed we could be better than we are better than we were and live a better life by far better than we are and live a better life by far better than we were and live a better life by far
4.
conversations overheard tongues dancing as they twist exciting the air with their mundane rhetoric day to day communiques repeating each speech they heard but the coffee tastes so good today the coffee tastes so good today flavoured with exotic accents and well-rehearsed choreographies confusing silence recently demure and regal with toxic noise but the coffee tastes so good today the coffee tastes so good today understandings reached or sometimes missed settling for less happy at cross purpose inwardly self-absorbed craving absolution for more than they confess craving absolution for more than they confess absolution for more than they confess but the coffee tastes so good today the coffee tastes so good today but the coffee tastes so good today the coffee tastes so good today
5.
your silence is of meadow-bells of moss and stone rhythms with no fanfare lest the spell is lost before it’s spoken fragile as a secret shared passed between us mend the broken it seems to be those simple things mean much more now you’re here and like the space between the stars there is everything within you held there gently as we touch and laugh without need of words our fingertips are dancing and it seems to be those simple things mean much more when you’re here i am holding my breath
6.
she wears a smile when she comes a smile when she goes in between she bears my company with kindness and she’ll smile when she leaves as she smiled as she arrived for now she stays awhile comfortably in the moment and says i don’t like living in the real world i escape and come to you i can’t find my silence in the pale world quietly i come to you here I can be unreal as the truth stocking feet pitter-pattering on carpeted staircase in time we shall be brilliant make the sunrise just for us later sleeping on the sofa with the kittens and their dreams she whispers without waking her face hidden in her sleeve i don’t like living in the real world i escape and come to you i can’t find my silence in the pale world quietly i come to you here I can be unreal as the truth she has seven types of coffee and a thousand books piled high in her temple to the literate without hesitation writes owls don’t have thumbs or jobs nor wonder why nothing becomes everything in the instant she decides i don’t like living in the real world i escape and come to you i can’t find my silence in the pale world quietly i come to you here I can be unreal as the truth i don’t like living in the real world i escape and come to you i can’t find my silence in the pale world quietly i come to you here I can be unreal as the truth
7.
in eighteen hundred and fifty four a clipper-rigged ship was the Lightening born Boston built by Donald McKay last great American tall ship sailed for gold rush trade on the Liverpool tide for James Baines owner of the Black Ball Line carrying emigrant and mining tools Australia bound with one hundred crew and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals Bully Forbes two pistols drew on the break of the poop to prevent his crew beseeching him to shorten sail “hell or Melbourne, come what may” Captain Forbes mercilessly drove the lee rail under the sea fastest journey under sail Melbourne - Liverpool sixty five days and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals in eighteen hundred and sixty nine the Lightening clipper of the Black Ball Line loading copper and tallow and wine and a thousand tons of wool caught fire the blaze aboard was fought in vain at Geelong Port in Cario Bay so towed three hundred yards offshore canon brought to sink her roared and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals none struck below her waterline but holed her side to fuel the fire at four o’clock in the afternoon boarded and scuttled by a few brave crew as canvas sank with hempen line the days of graceful tall ships died without adventurous reckless speed came the mechanical age of steam that filthy age of steam and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go down go down in the Lightning Shoals and yo, ho under she’ll go four fathoms down in the Lightning Shoals in the Lightning Shoals
8.
what’s easy for you may not be for me it’s a tough time to think if you won’t concede that armed with clichés and saccharine bluffs the greedy believe you can’t steal too much thought crimes happen sometimes don’t show it in your face they won’t hesitate thought crimes imprison your mind if you've made yours up well then it’s going to get rough for you who knows what they’re going to do thought crimes or freedom you choose do you solely own those notions in your head are you able to speak without fear or dread wondering if the feelers of the leaders of the free world are listening for deviants and sharpening swords thought crimes happen sometimes don’t show it in your face they won’t hesitate thought crimes imprison your mind if you've made yours up well then it’s going to get rough for you who knows what they’re going to do thought crimes or freedom you choose these things which we keep secret are the jewels we must scatter underneath the feet of fools forever facing back toward their blood line of privilege these inbred braggarts swagger as they choke our world to death thought crimes happen sometimes don’t show it in your face they won’t hesitate thought crimes imprison your mind if you've made yours up well then it’s going to get rough for you who knows what they’re going to do thought crimes or freedom you choose thought crimes or freedom you choose
9.
just when you think you know yourself the world, dizzy, spins on a moment takes your breath away forgets yesterday and when you least expect it feelings that you’d left behind locked doors inside your head slip out from under them lead us hand in hand instead to where the carousel is waiting standing silent now and stilled the carousel is waiting to lift and carry us on gilded manes horses carved from heartwood painted colours and flame turning in circles of freewill the carousel begins turning in circles of freewill the carousel begins turning in circles of freewill
10.
a stillness touched his cheek caressing gently and discrete untroubled by devotion as quietening rhythms of the moon pulled the fathoms fro and to with siren’s charm’s seduction yet the business of their consort isn't wishing for more than he can catch night fishing night fishing the words that he had found to say were lost between the interplay of light upon the water those countless laughing eyes of sprites’ undinal starry guise were beckoning like daughters yet the business of their consort isn't wishing for more than he can catch night fishing night fishing sweet songs from hidden shores echo their eternal calls voracious the compulsion of lullabies’ enchantment which the heart of man too rare resists a hunger of corruption when wonder turns to terror in the deep whose beautiful confusions tease with sensual delusion yet the business of their consort isn't wishing for more than he can catch night fishing night fishing an instant stretches to the stars who witness the crescendo calm as fate fractures the deceiving “the quality of this man’s love far outweighs snares of tumescent rush” thus judged the unsated nymphs flee screaming yet the business of their consort isn't wishing for more than he can catch night fishing night fishing night fishing night fishing
11.
hither and thither from one to the other invisible rhythms suspending deceits deceiving the eye with sleight of wing tricks and mocking the sky hither and thither from nectar to egg hither and thither and to feathers again the Burlington hummingbird quickens and bickers then flickers indignantly blurs hummingbird a child of the new world falls fastest for love the smallest of birds captures the sun to weave its cracked colours into frocks of fragile gems talisman the Aztec held hither and thither from nectar to egg hither and thither and to feathers again the Burlington hummingbird quickens and bickers then flickers indignantly blurs hummingbird leaving Ontario and all that winter brings a migrant in Mexico returning in the spring remembering the garden and the scented tended flowers home sweet home home sweet home hither and thither from nectar to egg hither and thither and to feathers again the Burlington hummingbird quickens and bickers then flickers indignantly blurs the Burlington hummingbird quickens and bickers then flickers indignantly blurs
12.
as starlings cleave fantastical feathered acrobatical murmurating magic in the twilight air endless combinations of patterns weaving gathering welcoming iridescent brethren there at the ending of day just fading away they’re settling waiting for dawn’s return and then begin renewed again adventures re-experienced over fractal fields and hedgerows in language born of graceful diving dance whose music draws the stragglers in communes an understanding to extend familial welcome of this dreaming land at the ending of day just fading away they’re settling waiting for dawn’s return and then begin renewed again their descent swiftly consensual comes suddenly, ephemeral it’s indistinct conclusion lost in dimming light the wing-song becomes chattering diminishing as feathers fluffed the roosted congregation greet the nurturing night at the ending of day just fading away they’re settling waiting for dawn’s return and then begin renewed again as starlings cleave fantastical feathered acrobatical murmurating magic in the twilight air
13.
The Asylum 04:18
i’m going around the bend taking everything i know i’m going to make new friends with holes in their souls i’ll be hidden behind the trees the institution’s bedlam degraded and demeaned for the visions that i tell them for your protection and the silence of my screams this country is giving me to the asylum to the asylum i’ll stand straight and proud unrepentant i’ll defy these bullies without doubt bloody butchers of the mind i celebrate my tocsins and the remedy to desecrate their doctrines of broken amnesty for your protection and the silence of my screams this country is giving me to the asylum to the asylum those wicked words i uttered ushered in denouncing fists with righteous hurly burly lending weight to pious writ expunging songs i made of defiant angry sound hastening my mouldering in unconsecrated ground for your protection and the silence of my screams this country is giving me to the asylum to the asylum

about

Tocsins & the Remedy
Tim O’Connor

Uilleand Music vcbd059

all songs written & © Tim O’Connor 2015/16

for Elle

produced by toc
recorded at Bywater Studios summer 2016
mixed and mastered at Uilleand Music summer 2016

photography by viceversarobbi:fotografia
viceversarobbifotografia@aol.co.uk
viceversarobbi.fotografia@facebook.com
www.flickr.com/photos/viceversarobbi

buddamask by toc
cover design by MTD

Performed by Tim O’Connor

With special guest:
Debbie Pullen voice tracks 6, 7, 10 & 11

credits

released September 15, 2016

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about

Tim O'Connor Hull, UK

Tim O'Connor is an English Folk/Rock songwriter based in Yorkshire, UK, Performing & recording since the late Seventies, Tim has released a large catalogue of albums, 39 to date, available on his record label, Uilleand Music.

Band Projects:

cowfisH, from 1992 onwards.

The Ant Farm Collective, from 2014-2017.

Tim O’Connor & the Poachers 2018-
... more

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