Horse Running Backwards
FinsburyParkCarrots
Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
I'll record this brand new song later today, and give you a link. I only wrote it in the past hour.
That horse is running backwards:
his rider’s in the ditch.
He’s trampling the stewards,
blood rippling the pitch.
See, tic-tac men are running:
they leave their stash behind,
Toytown tokens, spinning
in the thick red splattered wind.
New widows sing old shanties,
while rolling tearless eyes:
“Come, girls, throw off your panties!
Free your lithe Godiva thighs!”
the bar is spilling over:
wine slivers through a field
of crimson-matted clover,
and dolmens unrevealed.
And an old beggar in the rain
Drinking puddles of grape and grain
Sings out a dead man’s long refrain…
“Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi… “
All the steeds have bolted,
backward-charging down the track;
each crook-paid jockey, jolted:
now, a nude upon each back.
And the rider counts the money ,
blown about his broken head:
every note a gambler’s phoney
stitched with druid meadow thread.
“Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi…”
That horse is running backwards:
his rider’s in the ditch.
He’s trampling the stewards,
blood rippling the pitch.
See, tic-tac men are running:
they leave their stash behind,
Toytown tokens, spinning
in the thick red splattered wind.
New widows sing old shanties,
while rolling tearless eyes:
“Come, girls, throw off your panties!
Free your lithe Godiva thighs!”
the bar is spilling over:
wine slivers through a field
of crimson-matted clover,
and dolmens unrevealed.
And an old beggar in the rain
Drinking puddles of grape and grain
Sings out a dead man’s long refrain…
“Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi… “
All the steeds have bolted,
backward-charging down the track;
each crook-paid jockey, jolted:
now, a nude upon each back.
And the rider counts the money ,
blown about his broken head:
every note a gambler’s phoney
stitched with druid meadow thread.
“Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah,
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi arrah arrah arrah
Yay yerrah yerrah
Hi…”
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
Maybe not as fins-trippy as usual.
More gritty, with the hoof-pounding earth and blood.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
seriously, lookin forward greatly to hearing this one.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
I'll have my dinner first. I'm starvin'.
his rider’s in the ditch.
He’s trampling the stewards,
blood rippling the pitch.
See, tic tac men are fleeing:
they leave their stash behind,
Toy town tokens, playing
in the thick red splattered wind.
New widows sing old shanties,
while rolling tearless eyes:
“Come, girls, throw off your panties!
Free your lithe Godiva thighs!”
The bar is spilling over:
wine slivers through a field
of crimson-matted clover,
and dolmens unrevealed.
And an old beggar in the rain
Drinking puddles of grape and grain
Sings out a dead man’s long refrain…
“Arrah yerrah lay me down in moonshine
Lay me down where the race is won
Arrah yerrah lay me in a goldmine
Lay me down where the wealth‘s begun.”
All the steeds have bolted,
backward-charging down the track;
each crook-paid jockey, jolted:
now, a nude upon each back.
And the rider counts the money ,
blown about his broken head:
every note a gambler’s phoney
stitched with druid meadow thread.
And an old beggar in the mud
Drinking puddles of vine and blood
Sings out a dead man’s final word…
“Arrah yerrah lay me down in moonshine
Lay me down where the race is won
Arrah yerrah lay me in a goldmine
Lay me down where the wealth‘s begun.”
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
Well, here's an extremely tactless comment:
I like the sounds of the background of this quite a bit, but I think the lyrics would fit the sound a lot better if they were about something else.
The running horses theme made me imagine a much louder, crunchier kind of approach!! This music was so relaxed... :
*should I run away and hide now?*
It is relaxed. When I first read the original lyrics I would've agreed with you that we need some percussion or something, but with the revision of lyrics, I think the instrumental and words go well with the relaxed approach. I like this song a lot.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
That sounds like a plan. Something a bit clangy too much be good.
I guess I was really thinking of hooves rat-a-ta, rat-a-ta...
but I'm also a softee for text-painting.
I don't know why my typing gets so poor sometimes.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
I'm still heading up to Doncaster in a couple of weeks to record some more songs. I wasn't really happy with the London sessions, to be honest.
Oh.
I hope the Doncaster ones please you more.
shaddup.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
I didn't mean to ignore you and make you feel you had to talk to yourself! :eek:
I do it all the time. No worries.
all posts by ©gue_barium are protected under US copyright law and are not to be reproduced, exchanged or sold
except by express written permission of ©gue_barium, the author.
whew
I would have loved to been playin the guitar all these years now.
Creating music from scratch has got to be very difficult.
And when one is good at it, it is a huge gift.
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
WOW!!
I added some 78rpm vinyl crackle for this one.