Frank Turner все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

"Stop asking musicians what they think"
He said softly as he poured himself a second drink
And outside, the world slipped over the brink
We all thought we had nothing to lose
That we could trust in crossed fingers and horseshoes
That everything would work out, no matter what we choose

The first time it was a tragedy

I spoke with Scott last night
I was tired, but I wasn't sleeping
And despite what you think, I wasn't drinking
I was just finally ready to listen
And he was there, alright
And though he'd probably kill me just for saying this
Given how the both of us are atheists
But there it is

My name is Balthazar, Impresario
And you'll find me at the bottom of the page
I have artist's hands, though I'm a working man
But my craft has been forgotten by the age
So tonight will be my last night on the stage

This is my family's trade, my father built this place
At the turning of the twentieth century

History's been leaning on me lately
I can feel the future breathing down my neck
And all the things I thought were true
When I was young, and you were too
Turned out to be broken
And I don't know what comes next
In a world that has decided
That it's going to lose its mind

As I walked out one morning fair,
I found myself drawn thoughtlessly
Back to the place we used to live,
And you still do, now without me.

Around the back, away from the road,
Behind the bins, beneath your window,
I found the hulk, the rusting bulk

Meet me on the edges of the city,
Meet me where the underground runs out.
Bring a picnic blanket and your pity.
A pen and paper so I can write things down.

Mother, oh dear mother, I wasn't joking when I said,
That I plan to keep doing this until the day I'm dead.
And I'm not a mirror for you when you were young.

Well here's a tale, I've not yet told
I was evicted when, I was eight years old
I was shipped off to a dormitory
Full of kids who made no sense to me
And I cried myself to sleep each night
For three straight weeks til' I was dead inside
But I'm not asking for your pity
It's just that fairytales about fathers make me angry

I got me a shovel
And I'm digging a ditch
And I'm going to fight for this four square feet of land like a mean old son of a bitch
I got me a future
I'm not stuck on the past
I got no new tricks, yeah I'm up on bricks but me, I'm a machine and I was built to last

I'm trying to get better because I haven't been my best

Can see you hurting beneath your new red dress
Beneath your sharp new shoes and your new tattoos you are directionless
And I know you've been working as hard as you can
To pre-empt the question, the expectation and I understand

So come on now if we all pull together
We can lift up the weight of the world from your shoulders
Lift up the weight of the world from your shoulders

Brothers and sisters, have you heard the news?
The storm has lifted and there's nothing to lose,
So swap your confirmation for your dancing shoes,
Because there never was no God.

Step out of the darkness and onto the streets,
Forget about the fast, let's have a carnival feast,
Raise up your lowered head and hear the liberation beat,

It's a day with a 'Y' in it so obviously I'm over it
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired
And I've tried not to worry and I've tried being sorry
For being born in the wrong place and wrong time
'Cause I've been messed up, stressed out, talking to myself again
Locked up, left out, terrified of everything
Wound up, found out, waiting 'round for something to give
Don't you ever wake up and suspect

Dear Josh, old friend
Apologies first
It's been an age since I wrote you
I know I'm the worst
But you know how I feel
I'm consistently cursed
This time I've found something
I think it could work

I keep having dreams
Of pioneers and pirate ships and Bob Dylan
Of people wrapped up tight in the things that will kill them
Of being trapped in a lift plunging straight to the bottom
Of open seas and ways of life we've forgotten
I keep having dreams

Amy worked in a bar in Exeter

Hear ye, hear ye, friends and Romans, countrymen.
Hear ye, hear ye, punks and skins and journeymen
Hear ye, hear ye, my sisters and my brethren.
The time is coming near.

Come ye, come ye, to soulless corporate circus tops.
Come ye, come ye, to toilet circuit touring snobs.
Come ye, come ye, to bedrooms, bars and bunker squats.

Naked and retched and retching on a hotel bathroom floor,
Somewhere in the City
Three days no sleeping,
Not eating, not feeling good anymore
Drenched in sweat and self-pity now,
It's not a pretty sight

What to say in my defense, I was imperfect tense

So now the years are rolling by,
And it's not long since you and I could have been
Train drivers and astronauts.

And now we're stuck in furnished ruts,
But yet the thing that really cuts
Is that we can't remember how we got caught.

When they closed down the restaurants, boarded up the bars
We moved out of the city, bought a second hand car
Tried to figure out standing still, for the first time in a long, long time
Cut back on the sleeping pills, and the overkill, and the over time
I guess that this little life
Is gonna have to do
It's only a little life
Mostly, just me and you

I bought my soul back from the devil,
And now I'm keeping it all to myself.
I'm checking myself out of the program,
Because I know what's best for my health.
So why live the dream like you're running out of sleep?
I'm not playing to pass time,
I'm playing for keeps.

I was sipping on a Whiskey when I got the call
Yeah my friend Lex was lying in the hospital
She'd been pretty sick for about half a year
But it seems liked this time the end was drawing near
So dropped my plans and jumped the next London train
I found her laid up and in a lot of pain
Her eyes met mine and then I understood
That her weather forecast wasn't looking too good

Well I know I'm just an ignorant Englishman
But I'd like to make America great again
So if you'll forgive my accent and the cheek of it
Here's some suggestions from the special relationship
Let's make America great again
By making racists ashamed again
Let's make compassion in fashion again
Let's make America great again

Wandering lonely through the snow streets of New York
I stumbled on a thrift store that sold postcards by the yard
I bought a mile and shipped them home so I could read
Ten thousand ten-word tragedies, the lives these strangers lead
To remind myself the things I need

Cause I once wrote you love songs
You never fell in love

We saw in the dawn from the roof of the bar
When nights become days and you've gone too far
We listened to songbirds and rush hour cars and welcomed in the day
You said, "London in summertime is great,
On days like this I feel like I could escape
From things that I've done and mistakes that I've made.
I'd wash it all away"

Peggy came to me in my sleep
In the middle of the night
On a Friday night last week
She whispered: "Hush and don't be scared"
Got me a few words of wisdom
That I came back to share

And she said

1,2,1,2,3

Well I guess I should confess that I am starting to get old
All the latest music fads all passed me by and left me cold
All the kids are talking slang I won't pretend to understand
All my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans
And it's obvious my angry adolescent days are done
And I'm happy and I'm settled in the person I've become

They're coming out of the walls,
They're coming up through the streets,
They're quicksilver wracked by some invisible beat.
Right outside of your door the very stones come alive.
They are the spring in the step, the distant look in the eyes.
Put your Baudelaire away and come outside and play.

Me and all my friends are poets of the deed,

Man, we used to be brothers
Superheroes and warriors
Cowboys and Indians, train drivers
Everything rolling through the endless summers

But everything changes
You got married had children
And I don't have your number

You're not as messed up as you think you are
Your self-absorption makes you messier
Just settle down and you will feel a whole lot better
Deep down you're just like everybody else
She's not as pretty as she thinks she is
Just picture her after she's had kids
I bet she sits at home and listens to The Smiths
Deep down she's just like everybody else

Blacking in and out in a strange flat in east London
Somebody I don't really know just gave me something to help
Settle me down and to stop me from always thinking about you
And you know your life is heading in a questionable
Direction when you're up for days with strangers
And you can't remember anything except the way you sounded
When you told me you didn't know what I should do
It's a long road up to recovery from here

I was walking home to my house through the snow from the station
When Springsteen came clear in my headphones with a pertinent question
Oh, is love really real, and can any of us hope for redemption?
Or are we all merely biding our time down, to the lonely conclusions
Darling, let me take your hand as I talk you through this
How loneliness edged into deep-seated psychosis
Lying away in crowded hotel rooms, focused on takers
With my feelings laid clear on the ceiling

Richard Divine made up his mind
To take the last few steps to the bathroom door
From his bedroom floor and to lock himself in.

Steady young hands, meticulous plans,
Disposable razors and a blister-pack filled
With strong sleeping pills, and a bath of hot water.

It was the strangest thing today
I saw new footprints in abandoned pathways.
Beneath forgotten undergrowth something stirring again.
You were a single red blood cell but I lost you in the knot of capillaries
But you were bringing me oxygen when I needed it most in the smoke.
And you were always as far as Mongolia,
As close as my clothes,
Your presence pervading,

Oh it's payday, yes it's payday
I got my pay check from the man
There's not so many jobs that I can get these days
With these marks all over my hands
But I'm gonna take that check
I'm gonna head across the track
To the wrong side of this town

Parents don't be too kind to your kids,
Or how else will they grow up to be
Louche Parisian sinners or Nashville country singers,
Singing about the terrible things their parents did?
Lovers don't be sparing with the truth;
Break their hearts if that's what you must do.
Fill them with remorse, tinged with hope of course,
And let their baser instincts pull them through.

I've heard that they call me the woman
Who has fallen into many sins
They made me bear myrrh to the burial
And at the graveside, I began to sing
Woe to me, all of you sinners
I'm the lady of a moonless night
The darkness to me is my ecstasy
But for my sins I am far from contrite

I drink cause I'm thirsty
I drink cause I'm dry
I'm not yet quite thirty
But I feel like I'm dying

I drink cause I want to, cause I need to,
Cause I don't know what else to do
With my time, I won't say it

Oh the birds are ringing in
The opening act of spring
And I have fallen down and I'm so much worse than I have ever been
Oh the season's acting strange
And I know that something has to change
But there is no path I can choose that will not bring somebody pain

Please forgive me for the things that I must do

Always had a roof above me
Always paid the rent
But I`ve never set foot inside a tent
Can`t build a fire to save my life
I lied about being the outdoor type

I`ve never slept out underneath the stars,
The closest that I came to that was one time my car

I woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house, surrounded by sleeping folks I didn't know.
On failing to find my friends, I decided it was clearly time to go.
So I made my way out of the door as quietly as I could - there was no one there I knew to say goodbye,
Squinting in the sadly sobering sunshine of the Sunday morning light.

I started the night with all my friends and I ended up alone.
I started out so happy now I'm hungover and down.
It was about then that I realized I was half-way through the best years of my life.

Some mornings I pray for evening,
For the day to be done.
Some summer days I hide away
And wait for rain to come.
It turns out hell will not be found
Within the fires below,
But in making do and muddling through
When you've nowhere else to go.

Sorting through my things the other day
I found an old film camera that I thought I'd thrown away
But there it was covered in dust
I checked it and the film inside still had a few pictures left
So I just snapped it off and then
I found a place on the high street that could still develop them
I dropped them off and clean forgot,
It wasn't until this morning that I picked the pictures up

The bands I like, they don't sell too many records
And the girls I like, they don't kiss too many boys
Books I read will never be best sellers, yeah
But come on, fellas, at least we made our choice, hey!

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

What do we want?