1. |
Talking to the Sun
03:36
|
|||
|
I’ve seen it on the faces in the rain,
They’re lookin like there’s nothing left to say
Checking into pity,
Looking for a place to hide away
You swap your high heels for the sneakers
And the sultry smiles for some feelers
You lost your serendipity
You’re still trying to convince me
You’re still talking to the sun
Making waves with no one
And I’m sitting on a real, real time
That I’m just about to have
You were always scared of summertime
You saw a sinking paradise abide
While we talked around in riddles
With the tall man who lives right on the edge
I never said that you’d complete me
And I never wanted space to defeat me
While you kept your eyes lowered
And the road you took embraced you
And how you let it saturate you
|
||||
2. |
Going Home
03:00
|
|||
|
I faded into sight today
Betrayed by more than time
You know that is seems to me that I’ve done all that I could and all that I should
You never say to much, when your lonely world spins round and round on you
Welcome to Your New Life, watch it from the window, the window round the corner
If what you want is gone, gone gone baby I will take you there
Driving past the factories, hiding their indignities
You say there is still beauty in decay
You look to me for proof, I shake my head and say, no way
You never say to much, when your lonely world spins round and round on you
Welcome to Your New Life, watch it from the window, the window round the corner
If what you want is gone, gone gone baby I will take you there
|
||||
3. |
Brophy's Tent
04:48
|
|||
|
Fred was the man, he lined them up, he looked like Johnny Cash,
Spruiking all the folks to come and watch the nightly stoush
The bell was ringing, PA was singing, the troupe stood on the boards
The Swedish girls sold dagwood dogs and hardly said a word.
He’d bang upon the big bass drum to advertise the show.
He didn’t seem too fussed by it, but it was all he’d ever known.
Four generations of Brophy men had beat out the same tune.
The tribal call, the ringing bell, it’s time have a blue.
The only fights I saw up there were under Brophy’s lights.
Two tough men going to toe to toe and the crowd was wound up tight
Sawdust and the nervous sweat was mingled on the ground
You score a win it’s sixty bucks for three one minute rounds
A young bloke from Victoria came out to have a crack
Fred paired him up with a bloke his size, rang the bell and then stepped back.
Punch for punch an even match, trading leaden blows.
The southerner got the sixty, a swollen eye and a broken nose.
I was talking to him later over one or two cold beers.
His eye looked like a football, but he was full of four X cheer
We found out later on that night that he wasn’t feeling flash
So The Royal Flying Doctor Service made their mercy dash
Sunday morning comes around and we were bleary eyed,
The Brophy tent stood tall and still beneath a clear blue sky.
The images of Aussie boxers painted on the walls told the passer by that here, the mighty never fall.
|
||||
4. |
Mist in the Morning
03:46
|
|||
|
Mist in the morning
Rain in the evening
Wry smile on granddad’s face
Looks like the bankman, sometimes like the hangman
Gonna stay away again
My family has been working so hard,
To make ends meet on the land
Each drop of sweat and every sacrifice
Is sittin in the hands of the big man
We keep on changin just to make ends meet
All we hope for now is to fall on our feet
Grandad says one good year is all we need
We’re waitin for the man upstairs and a little bit of seed
Suits and ties round a for sale sign
Years of work been swapped for the minimum price
Seven hungry mouths to feed with one more on the way
Now Dad’s gone into town
To find a place to stay
|
||||
5. |
Dusty Guitar
04:11
|
|||
|
I ventured down the musical highway last night
There were scattered wrecks who used to dream and play and laugh and sing
But they decided on the safety of their tangibility and a day job.
While a beautiful guitar gathers dust in a far-forgotten corner of their brick veneer home, somewhere in suburbia.
Everybody’s got a story to tell, and I know you remember just when you fell
So I’m thinking all those dusty guitars should be played tonight.
Ten thousand stories of the first time that you held her
Your eyes would shine like mercury for her touch and smell
And the cold day in hell when you dust it off and play a chord
A passenger in time or just a memory?
I met a man who held some banknotes in his hand
And he shrank the room deep in consolation
He said envy’s just a coin’s toss you know there is no pity lost
This is just an energy; just like what you’re feeling.
Don't fight the break of dawn, look out your window and I'll be gone
|
||||
6. |
Pinnaroo Quarantine
03:46
|
|||
|
The yellow moon sat pregnant over the misty field
The highway was wide open and the moonlight wouldn’t yield
A murder of crows hopped languidly from something’s last mistake
Shiny black feathers; mile markers,
Ever west we went
Rocks sprang up like natures temple as far as we could see
The big ship got three bridges to seal his victory,
By knocking over Englishman in an English land.
The ashes in my eye don’t lie, I knew just what it meant.
We had enough on board to keep us gone for many country miles
There was no prior warning we were plundered with a smile
The things we lost made us want to start some kind of fight
But the border patrol are dining in style tonight
The Perkins family born and bred in a town they call Cowangie
Their pride and joy was a little boy, goes by the name of Larry.
He conquered the hill and he drove the roads in every type of car.
And earned himself a sign reserved for the special shooting star.
The swans sat on the postcard glass as we tried to change our mood,
Wondering what we were gonna do now we’d lost most of our food
We drove along the river banks and irrigated green
Pull on over and hitch a ride on the Murray River Queen
The people out in Waikerie well they build their towers tall,
No ivory or parapets will ever make them fall
They feel the need for a feeble feed to sanctify the TV,
The heartlands of the wet lagoon and miles of orange trees.
|
||||
7. |
Listening to You
03:57
|
|||
|
It’s an ill wind that blows no good
When it falls from the mouths of those who should
Know better, be stronger and be true to themselves just a little bit longer.
I’m stuck in the middle with an ear for both sides
And I’m trying to work out when they will decide
If I’m good or I’m bad
If I’m happy or I’m sad
And even if I know, my own family
And the Northerly is blowin’
The south wind is knowin’
What the east and west are going to do
And I turn into myself, I put ego on the shelf
I’m looking at him, but I’m listening to you.
When one wind dies down and rest for the night
Another direction will take its place in time
And as we all know, each wind brings its own
Decisions, revisions
Memories are bought and sold
So I try to get away, I lock me in my heart
Take stock of what I know and then try to discard
The people in my life who do me no good
Everything & anything that flies in the face of my soul
|
||||
8. |
When I Remember When
04:41
|
|||
|
When I head back to my home town to catch up with old friends
The well worn path is overgrown with people I don’t get
I know that time keeps marching on and things don’t stay the same
The things I hold close to my heart will never come this way, again.
And I wonder where the old folks went who called this town a home
Made themselves a peaceful life worked fingers to the bone
The Super 8 camera in my mind takes me to a different time
Things were so much simpler then
When I remember when
The farming man and the mining man have long since gone away
The dirt they worked beneath my feet still looks the same
A deep foundation, never changing bears a shifting load
It’s all that’s left of what I knew and the memories I hold
You know history’s been written here since 1839
The city brothers smile and say the old town’s doing fine
No matter how they change this place, my heart will always be
By the Tullaroop Creek just on dusk as the sun sinks through the trees
|
||||
Dave Walker VIC, Australia
Dave Walker made his first record in 1998 and has been churning them out ever since. Variety of styles and a whole range of different musicians.
Dave Walker recommends:
Down to Dirty
by Destroy She Said
Loud. Intense. Rocking. Obnoxious. Classic Oz pub rock. The best fun you can have on stage. Biased much? Of course I am. I'm one of the guitarists!
go to albumIf you like Diamonds on the Road, you may also like:
Redsand Shuffle
by Redsand Shuffle
supported by 4 fans who also own “Diamonds on the Road”
go to album
Don't Stop!!
by Whirling Furphies
supported by 4 fans who also own “Diamonds on the Road”
go to album
Busker at Heart
by John Armstrong
supported by 4 fans who also own “Diamonds on the Road”
go to album
MATANGO!
by The Kill Devil Hills
Down and dirty blues rock from this Western Australian band makes for a truly visceral listening experience.
go to album
Carla Geneve returns with a record of jittery alt-rock, topped with lyrics that are both wry and introspective.
go to album
