1. |
Night On The Tiles
03:50
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Night On The Tiles
When I was a boy I saw my daddy drink
Liquor from a plain brown bag.
Sitting in the front room with a group of friends
‘cause life can be such a drag.
I asked my momma what my daddy’s drinking,
She looking with disapproving eyes.
“You know your daddy’s doing wrong
and he is gonna pay,
He’s heading right towards another night on the tiles”.
So I’m getting older and I’m finding my way,
I have the need to learn it all by myself.
Drinking up some Breaker from a stolen four pack,
Chilling round the back of my folk’s house.
Imagine my surprise it hit me between the eyes,
When I realised I’d lit the fuse,
That would consume me in the flames
and burn a long, long while,
I had plotted my course towards a night on the tiles.
I’m having a night on the tiles.
I’m having a night on the tiles.
Fast forward to today and many sessions have passed
Many miles have rolled under these wheels.
Drinking my way around the British Isles
Wondering if this wound will ever heal?
Repenting from the last while relishing the next,
Three day hangover’s just my style.
But the fire’s still burning,
and I’ve pushed it off the dial,
You know that I’m am heading towards a night on the tiles.
I’m having a night on the tiles.
I’m having a night on the tiles.
© New Tradition Music.
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2. |
Sawmill Blues
03:23
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Sawmill Blues
Your papa tried to tell me, but I didn’t hear.
Your mama tried to tell me, she was shedding a tear.
Your brother tried to tell me I was out of my mind.
But love is so blind, I had you on my mind.
The preacher tried to warn me, but I didn’t hear.
The usher tried to warn me, he was shaking with fear.
Your sister tried to warn me, tried to steal me away.
But I wanted to stay, I wanted it that way.
And now I know just why,
I want run away and hide.
Cause every time you begin to shout,
You whine, you whine like a sawmill do,
I got the Sawmill Blues!
To the Judge and the jury, here is my case,
To the Judge and the jury, I made a mistake.
Release me from these shackles, I want to be free,
Here is my plea, I just want to be free.
And now they know just why,
I want to run away and hide,
Cause every time you begin to shout,
You whine, you whine like a sawmill do,
I’ve got the Sawmill Blues.
When I go to heaven, I ain’t going to be late.
When I go to heaven, at those Pearly Gates.
“Hey St Peter, please don’t let me wait?”
“Don’t let me wait at those Pearly Gates?”
And when he asks me why?
He’ll want to run away and hide.
Cause every time you begin to shout,
You whine, you whine, like a sawmill do,
I’ve got the Sawmill Blues!
© New Tradition Music.
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3. |
Brasshouse Lane
06:25
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Brasshouse Lane
Down Brasshouse, Brasshouse Lane,
Turn the clock back to the 60’s once again.
It was a working man’s town,
Where the Birmid loomed tall
Before they shut it down.
Ten thousand men worked inside the foundries,
Making castings for the motor industry.
By God it wasn’t pretty,
but it stood for England’s heart;
Engineering excellence resides,
Down Brasshouse Lane.
Near Brasshouse, Brasshouse Lane,
Lived a boy that had dreams of rock and roll.
But the folks down in Oxford Road
Were grimy, honest, hard working souls.
Mr Bridges worked at the Birmid;
he’d been an apprentice there,
Expected his sons to follow his path.
But along came the great Winter of Discontent
And we certainly felt that winter’s aftermath,
Down Brasshouse Lane.
But I couldn’t see the sky for its towering structures,
The blackened clouds and the soot raining down.
I prayed that one day, I’d see open fields,
And this monstrosity would be laid to rest.
But I was too young, to know how many lives,
Were wrapped within its molten metal heart.
Down Brasshouse, Brasshouse Lane,
The Birmid was closed on that fateful day.
And a wasteland just remained,
When “the man” came and took it all away.
A wasteland on the Earth
and a wasteland in the lives,
Of men like Mr Bridges who worked there.
They couldn’t find a job in Thatcher’s tyrant reign,
So they had to start their lives over again,
Away from Brasshouse Lane.
And then the Birmid site, became playing fields
And I could kick a football with my friends.
But I looked up at the sky,
And missed the mighty presence
Of Birmid standing tall over our town.
Like a cast metal angel over Brasshouse Lane.
© New Tradition Music.
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4. |
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For The Little One (Courtney's Song)
Colour me with your rainbows,
Over and over again,
Under blues skies, the blue of you eyes,
Roses bloom at the sound of your name.
Tie me down with your silk ribbons,
Never free me from your invisible spell.
Even I cannot see what your world is to be,
You kiss, but you’ll never tell.
Rainy days won’t keep me away,
Or make me run and hide.
Smile for me and walk with me,
Ever and always by my side….
Take me to a world full of wonder,
Of places to play and to hide.
Let’s laugh and sing, let the moment bring,
Let me always be by your side,
Ever and always by your side,
Yeah, always by your side!
© New Tradition Music.
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5. |
Hellbound Train
04:52
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Hellbound Train
Forty thousand ran the marathon,
And I’ve just done the same.
I’m melting in the Metro,
I’m waiting for the train.
There are so many people around me,
I’m feel that I’m caged in.
Will these wheels ever start rolling?
Will this journey ever begin?
Some say that we’re safe underground,
But I know we’re riding on a hell-bound train.
Politicians can see the future,
Or that is what they say!
But the ordinary man in the street,
He has to pay their way.
Money’s tight even if you have a job,
And the boss is always right
Some say the tide is turning,
Some say there’s going to be a fight!
Some say we’re riding a hand-cart,
But I know we’re riding on a hell-bound train.
Earth Mother’s on the back-foot,
She’s given all she’s got.
We take and we take from underground,
Are we ever going to stop?
The oil wells; they have run dry,
And the forests have been lost.
And the hungry mouths need feeding
We’re going to pay the cost.
Some say that this is our brave new world,
But I know we’re all riding on a hell-bound train.
On a hell-bound train!
Yeah, we’re all travelling together
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, on a hell-bound train.
On a hell-bound train.
© New Tradition Music.
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6. |
LHR Blues
03:21
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LHR Blues
Waking up Monday, my head is all bleary.
The weekend’s too blurry, to become a memory.
But that’s all behind me ‘cause I’m a “professional”,
Professional at what though, I wish they could tell me?
I know inside this ain’t too good for me,
But you’re sacrificed at the altar of the company!
LHR Monday,
BHX Tuesday,
BRS Wednesday,
And MCR Thursday.
But when it turns Friday
The body gets weary,
And it is so tempting
To turn to some drinking!
I know inside this ain’t too good for me,
But you’re sacrificed at the altar of the company!
I’m sick of the airports, human melting pot.
They herd us like cattle,
Through dispassionate screening.
I wait with the tourists’, the chavs and the suited.
They call it an Airbus, but it’s more like a sheep pen!
LHR Monday,
BHX Tuesday,
BRS Wednesday,
And MCR Thursday.
But when it turns Friday
The body gets weary,
And it is so tempting
To turn to some drinking!
I know inside this ain’t too good for me,
But you’re sacrificed at the altar of the company!
© New Tradition Music.
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7. |
Faith
03:23
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Faith
When it all fell apart around you,
And there was nothing that you could do.
Well life can feel so hollow,
When bad luck is your shadow,
So hold on, keep your faith!
Chase the waves, raise your sails.
When your face is pushed into the dirt,
And the pain’s so deep that it burns not hurts.
If your mind is in a muddle,
And you think there’s no tomorrow?
Well hold on, keep your faith!
Chase the waves, raise your sails.
Chase the waves, raise your sails.
It’s too bad (it’s too bad),
That we never get to see ourselves.
And it’s so sad (it’s so sad),
If we can never understand ourselves.
When things are so unbearable,
And you feel quite incapable.
If heartache is your partner,
Well now look no further.
Just hold on, keep your faith!
Chase the waves, raise your sails.
Chase the waves, raise your sails.
© New Tradition Music.
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8. |
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Kuranda Brake (The Railway Song)
Tic-Tack shops, Lorikeets and cold beer.
Tjabugai painters and Gadja artists all live here.
Fat, red faced tourists stand wilting in the sun,
Under hot-house skies, our Dreamtime journey has begun!
I’m on the tail of Buda Dji on this downhill ride.
A mountain to the right of me; on the left is the viewing side.
Look! See the Barron falling and tumbling again.
The roar of his call is fed by the forest rain.
This “snake” keeps on sliding and hugging the mountain side.
Like a child I see so many things, my eyes are open wide.
The beauty and the splendour is more than I can take?
Is this Dreamtime I’m living, as I ride this Kuranda brake/
Tic-Tack shops, but now there’s snow on the ground.
It’s cold and it’s grey as I walk through this English market town.
But as I slip, I'm in Dreamtime once again.
In the Kuranda brake and the tale of that mountain train.
© New Tradition Music.
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9. |
Long Bomb City Blues
04:09
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Long Bomb City Blues
Pass me a whisky,
Wipe the dust from my eye.
Time I was leaving,
Time I said “Good-bye!”
City life has taken all I own,
I’m going to keep moving on,
So take me from these city blues.
Hey, Mr City,
Take your hands off me.
I just want to be lonely,
I just want to stay so free.
Don’t want to stop here any more.
I’m going to keep moving on,
So take me from these city blues.
Onward to the country,
Take me home to my Rosie-lea.
She’s been awaitin’,
Says she’s going to marry me.
City, city people, I ain’t your fool.
My heart is in the country,
So take me from these city blues
Take me from these city blues.
© New Tradition Music.
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Stompin' on Spiders England, UK
Stompin' on Spiders is a musical collective formed at a Blues festival in April 2009. The band's stripped-back acoustic Blues/Rock style is individual as it is unique, blending the traditional ethos of Blues music with a very modern edge. A "new tradition" is how one music journalist described Stompin' on Spiders; "a radical mix of stripped-back blues and roots inspired by international events". ... more
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