1. |
Autobisongraphy
03:27
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Began back in nineteen sixty five when I got my first guitar
At violin practice I would duck and dive, fretless fingering was hard;
For thirty old shilling the shop girl was willing to choose me a Dylan LP,
Bringing It All Back Home it was for my Autobisongraphy.
Most of my songs were copycat sham in the American style,
Pretending to be a rambling man, still hadn’t walked a first mile;
In Manchester city a young girl so pretty made a heart-broken troubadour of me,
At last some living to sing about for my Autobisongraphy.
On 12 inch vinyl in Liverpool town I first heard Kristofferson sing,
Wistful nostalgia soon was found in my imagining;
So childhood departed and adulthood started in stages not easy to see,
But every step was neatly cut in my Autobisongraphy.
Back again on a Manchester street, many a debt to pay,
Darting eyes and dancing feet just to keep trouble away;
With conscience benighted and love unrequited, feckless, footloose and free,
What more could a song-smith want for an Autobisongraphy?
With every sin in song confessed, time for settling down,
Eggs were hatching in the nest, life had a changing sound;
There were glitches and itches but no more stitches in my song tapestry
Three hundred up and quite enough for an Autobisongraphy.
I put away my tapestry kit but there were ends untied,
My mischievous muse stirred in his pit the day my mother died;
And as he was waking new songs were breaking like waves on a slumbering sea ,
Crashing ashore and adding more to my Autobisongraphy.
I fail at that, I fail at this, it’s all part of the plan,
Written in the script that is the fate of a song-writing man,
But I got a treasure rich beyond measure, I take it all over with me -
I call it my very own book of life, my Autobisongraphy.
©Dave Atkinson 2014
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2. |
Bethlehem Town
02:26
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Mary and Joseph a little baby born in Bethlehem town
Mary and Joseph a little baby born in Bethlehem town
Mary and Joseph had a little baby
Nowhere to go so they laid him in a manger
And the stars in the heavens and the steers in the stable bowed down.
Down from the hills the shepherds came a-running into Bethlehem town
Down from the hills the shepherds came a-running into Bethlehem town
Down from the hills the shepherds come a-runnin;
Ran so fast they felt funny
Running just to see the new baby in Bethlehem town.
Three kings came on camels riding from afar to Bethlehem town
Three kings came on camels riding from afar to Bethlehem town
Three kings came on camels riding
They got tired, is that surprising?
It’s a mighty long way from afar to Bethlehem town,
Up in the hills the angels were a-singing all about Bethlehem town
Up in the hills the angels were a-singing all about Bethlehem town
Up in the hills the angels were a-singing
All over the world the bells were a-ringing
To tell everybody what had happened in Bethlehem town
Mary and Joseph a little baby born in Bethlehem town
Mary and Joseph a little baby born in Bethlehem town
Mary and Joseph had a little baby
Nowhere to go so thety laid him in a manger
And the stars in the heavens and the steers in the stable bowed down.
©Dave Atkinson 1970
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3. |
Sands of the River
02:17
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Drifting along
Not a care in the world
Heart full of a song
And a beautiful girl
Finding a way
And I’m taking her hand
All down the Sands of The River.
The two of us are
Just rolling downstream
Sky full of stars
And a beautiful dream
Eyes like the dawn
When she opens them wide
I cannot hide that I love her.
Breezes blow I’m praying
Fill our new made love with wind
Gently does it, ease us on
Through the night, until the dawn
Wakes my love and me.
Drifting along
Not a care in the world
Heart full of a song
And a beautiful girl
Find in her eyes
Endless promised lands
All down the Sands of The River.
©Dave Atkinson 1970
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4. |
Galleons
04:42
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Lately all my galleons, I have sent your way,
And still I hear no word of their arrival;
I wonder are they waiting outside your harbour gates
While other ships unload their cargoes?
So I’ll recall my captains from the fringes of your land
And shelter them until I find another;
Maybe they went sailing, when we were still too young,
And that was all that was the matter.
Chorus
Let’s not say we lost, or failed to find a way,
Don’t bury all the mem’ry in the mourning;
When you think it over, all you need to say,
Is ‘Guess we should have met some other day’.
Round wringing sails torn with tears the harbour lights go down,
And oceans full of crying flood the jetties;
Things that I’ll remember will be fair winds in my mind:
So let it be with you or else forget me.
Chorus
Let’s not say we lost, or failed to find a way,
Don’t bury all the mem’ry in the mourning;
When you think it over, baby, all you need to say,
Is ‘Guess we should have met some other day’.
©Dave Atkinson 1970
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5. |
Leaves
02:52
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We are like leaves, leaves upon a tree,
We are the leaves, God is the tree.
The tree needs the leaves to flourish and grow
They are like gates where living waters
The sun and the rain and sometimes melting snow.
In much the same way the leaves all depend
On the trunk so strong on the boughs that bend
For food from the ground, for anchor in the wind.
And as we are like leaves we must take care
Of the world and of all the living things that share
It’s rivers and seas, it’s land it’s air.
And as we are like leaves we cannot ignore
The hungry and the homeless always at the door
For one leaf’s disease ends in the core.
We all need the world and the world needs us all
Together we will grow, divided we will fall,
Just like the leaves on the trees so tall.
We are like leaves, leaves upon a tree,
We are the leaves, God is the tree.
©Dave Atkinson 1972
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6. |
The Cradle
02:48
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The cradle of your gentle mother's breast
Was your home when you were young
In the early morning sun;
And the boundaries and pathways were set,
All the choices were made;
But as the years rolled on you wondered why
Things were standing as they were,
And the answers made a pattern in your mind,
Still the boundaries seemed too near,
The pathways not so clear;
Then the pattern faded in the rising sun,
You were horse without a rein, blood without a vein,
And all you ever valued was undone
You were out on your own, searching for a home
And for boundaries and pathways of your own.
But until your sunny candle's fading fast
Not a thing will stand for long
And in the cradle of the land you're laid at last,
And you're home.
©Dave Atkinson 1972
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7. |
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The last house in Erskine Street is number nineteen
And through the flowered curtains there a face is sometimes seen;
‘I’ve been living here for all my life, now they tell me I must go.’
These the words of the occupant of the last house in the row.
‘They’ve offered me a Council flat in Halewood or Speke
And though these walls have rising damp and the roof may sometimes leak,
They’ve stood round me for sixty years and they’ll do me ‘til I die,
I’d sooner end my days down here than fourteen stories high.’
‘These walls have seen the olds folk pass and the young ones getting old,
They’ve seen the babies being born and watched their lives unfold;
I’m sure they must have laughed with us and cried when things were bad,
I’ll bet the walls of a Council flat can’t tell happy times form sad.‘
‘Gone Christy’s corner store where we learned the daily news
And gone Stanley’s ale house where credit was refused
To all but us Erskiners, well that was Stenley’s rule,
And gone all these people now, away from Liverpool.’
‘You educated planning folk don’t seem to understand
That moving people’s not the same as moving bricks and sand;
You’re not just tearing houses down, you’re demolishing a soul.
To us it is our way of life though to you it may be just a hole.’
The last house in Erskine Street was number nineteen
And springtime saw the rubble land turn a little green,
'Til foundations for a multi-level flyover were laid
Which the Corporation financed, for which Erskine Street has paid.
©Dave Atkinson 1972.
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8. |
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Tell me, mister, tell me, how long the train’s been gone,
I’m late ‘cos I've been sleeping and I must have slept too long
As I was sleeping I was dreaming about a train rolling on.
The engine ran on sunshine and the tanks were full of rain
And I dreamed that is every wagon there was green grass and grain,
There were flowers in the windows and every wild thing you could name was there
And the wheels spinning round
Were like the pounding of the sea
And the train made a sound
Like a warning to you and me;
Ah but mister I was sleeping and I must have slept too long
'Cos when I woke up in the morning the sun never shone
Oh tell me how long the train’s been gone.
He turned his face to answer and his eyes were full of tears
‘Ten minutes on the clock, sir, but ten million years,
And when the train came through the station there was nobody here’.
©Dave Atkinson 1972
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9. |
Morning of My Life
02:48
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It must be near the end of the morning of my life
As I hitched along the highway in the rain
My thumb out in the wind just like when I was younger
I wished I could afford to take the train.
It must be near the end of the springtime of my days
As restless round this countryside I roam
The only thing I want is to be with my lady
Be with her in some place I can call home.
I’m tired of never knowing where I’ll wake up in the morning
Of having dreams and seeing them slip away,
So it must be near the end of the morning of my life
The end of the springtime of my days
The sun must be rising, rising in my sky,
I’m rushing from the door to catch the train;
I’m looking for a job and the man behind the counter
Says 'we’re here to cut your hair not pick your brain'.
The blossom of the springtime lay wasted on the ground
And from my lady’s window I could see
The sun go on alone and take away the morning
And leave the day’s remains to me.
I was tired of never knowing where I’d wake up in the morning
Of having dreams and seeing them slip away,
So I guess that was the end of the morning of my life
And the start of the summer of my days
©Dave Atkinson 1973
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10. |
The Time Traveller
03:23
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That silver bird is full of people, it sails across the sky,
Five hundred miles an hour it flies, six miles high;
We can fly the whole world over as long as oil flows,
What we do when it's all gone, nobody seems to know.
You are a traveller from another century,
Five hundred years ago you lived and died;
And now you stand beside me on the edge of history
I wonder why you came on such a ride.
Help the hungry cries the poster from its place upon the wall,
There's so much kindness everywhere we just can't use it all,
And there is an old man sleeping on the ground.
From begging and from dustbins was all the food he found.
You are a traveller from another century,
Five hundred years ago you lived and died;
And now you stand beside me at the edge of history
I wonder why you came on such a ride.
Now you turn toward the old man as if you know him well,
I can guess what you are saying but cannot really tell;
A silver bird is roaring as it thunders through the sky,
Your face is filled with sorrow, you bow and say goodbye.
'I am a traveller from another century,
Five hundred years ago I lived and died;
And now I stand beside you on the edge of history
I wonder why I came on such a ride.'
©Dave Atkinson 1974
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11. |
Bryony
02:43
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Your loving and your laughter your sorrow and your smile
Your loving and your laughter your sorrow and your smile
Make me happy all time, make me sad all the while.
Your uncertain grace defines you from the grey formless crowd
Your uncertain grace defines you from the grey formless crowd
You say more in your silence than it does in all its sound.
Whatever else may happen and anything may yet
Whatever else may happen and anything may yet
Loving you will always be the thing I won't regret.
©Dave Atkinson 1977
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12. |
Cumbria Mountain Music
03:17
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Lakeland County Cumbria mountain morning,
Camping down at Wasdale in the spring,
High above the rolling clouds are riding,
Called from where they come by the wind;
Conducting from the stage of the sky
Every member of the weather band,
Here ye now the chorus of the rain as it cries
Later let the sun dance on the land.
Lakeland County Cumbria mountain evening,
Climbing up on Scafell in the sun,
Moss Ghyll Grooving in the golden shadows,
High fell walking ‘til I can’t go on;
I will lay my head down by a stream
And harmonise the singing of its song
And listen to the music of the rocks and the hills
Playing in my ears the whole night long.
Lakeland County Cumbria mountain night time,
One by one the stars come out to sing,
The moon is rocking to a tune in ragtime,
The valleys hum the symphony of spring;
Tomorrow I must pack my bags and go
And join in the city’s busy blues,
But I am always hearing the music in my mind
And tapping to the beat my mountain shoes.
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13. |
Daffodil Days
05:02
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As I stepped out in the morning
To take without trouble my ease,
The sun dancing over the rooftops
Blossom blessing the breeze;
The town around was a-waking
From a night of wintery ways,
The birds on the branches were praising
The dawn of daffodil days.
These, these, these, these are daffodil days,
It’s time to get some blossoming done before you begin to fade;
We're always up late working, why don’t you come out to play?
These are daffodil days, these are daffodil days.
On a dusty old shelf in the corner
A milk bottle did as a vase,
You could see the daffodils thinking
‘Who does he think we are?’
I thought of my own condition
In this little bed-sitting room,
I didn't want to be here
But what could I do but bloom?
The tight little buds would not open,
They did not look happy at all,
I know how bad it can feel when
You feel you are facing a fall;
When you don’t know where you are headed
But already you’re well on your way
And can't get back where you started
These are daffodil days.
The joys of true love are fleeting,
In heartbreak long is the hour,
Our lives have only one springtime,
What can we do but flower?
Sure enough the next morning
My dusty old shelf was ablaze,
Their daffodil voices were singing
‘These are daffodil days’.
©Dave Atkinson 1980
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14. |
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'Eight miles high above the hills a spaceship is flying,
On another flight tonight you cross the starry dome;
No flowers for San francisco, no tears for California,
You would have stayed on with us but your heart cried out for home.'
'I can really see you now, on a welfare programme,
To help you to adjust perhaps a course of therapy;
Making bucks performing on the Embarcadero
And California Dreaming would have been reality.'
'But all those songs about sunny California
Could not persuade you to change your mind and stay;
Far across the ocean in rainy, rainy England
The old man sleeps, his dreams to keep, until the break of day.'
Looking back now passing years and wide skies divide us,
Chances and changes wear an air of certainty;
From a far-off fireside through a window dark and dreamy
California was just an Eden, a paradise to see.
And all those songs about sunny California
Could not persuade me to change my mind and stay;
Far across the ocean in rainy, rainy England
The old man sleeps, his dreams to keep, until the break of day.
©Dave Atkinson 1983
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15. |
Not Many Days Now
02:40
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Not many days now 'til new life begins,
Awake in the morning and wondering
What can be happening and what have we done?
Is new life beginning already begun?
Not many months now, looking behind,
It seemed all these changes were just in my mind;
I can't quite believe it but I'm listening to
Another heart beating and an old love made new.
Not many mornings or evenings to cast
The net of our hopes on the seas of the past;
They're moving within us and the future is too,
A new ship is landing and an old dream comes true.
So wrap in your care one who's frightened but true
And he'll put his arms round the pair of you;
Not very long now 'til the moment when
Two old lives are over, three new ones begin.
©Dave Atkinson 1985
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16. |
The Little Light
03:04
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We keep a little light shining
All night long in your room,
As you lie here in my arms sucking
Hungry on the bottle
Little rays are scattering the gloom;
And the shadows of the mobiles are dancing on the ceiling
Outside the world keeps tumbling round,
A world that's yet to teach you
To be afraid of strangers
And be scared of falling down.
I keep a little song singing
By your side until you sleep,
I lie you in the blankets dreaming
Close the door quietly
And down the midnight stair begin to creep;
I remember how they told me
Not to climb too high,
The wisdom of the years would serve me well,
Well enough to teach me not to talk to strangers
And if I did then not to tell.
You set a little light shining
In my life when you came to stay
And I feel a happy smile coming
To think we were strangers
And now I know you better every day;
And after every tumble
Your tears turn to laughter
So how can I be scared of falling down?
The world knows no wisdom like your song singing,
Your little light shining,
While the shadows go dancing round and round.
©Dave Atkinson 1986
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17. |
Amy's Alphabet Song
02:45
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A is for Amy and B is for band
C washes over our steps in the sand
D is a river from mountain to tide
Evenings in winter we walk at its side
F is or flower, G is for grew
And I’m for you.
H is how happy I am to play
This alphabet ditty but what about J?
J is for Jackie, your Mum and wife
K is for Katie and L is for life
M is for marriage, N is for new
And I’m for you.
O how peculiar, oh how absurd,
That P is a letter and also a word,
Q is a question that I ask of you
R you still listening? Give me a clue
S is for sorry, T is for true
And I’m for U.
V is for value if I W
I get for my money but what would I do?
I’d be like X, cross and confused,
Wondering Y I so rarely am used
Z is for zero, this alphabet’s through
And I’m for you.
©Dave Atkinson 1991
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18. |
Lucky Me
03:33
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I was just stardust spinning through space
Coming from nowhere and popped into place,
With all of the world and its past history
It was right here and now I came to be.
So what’s the story, why choose me?
And if it was just a lottery -
Who was naming the numbers?
Who was spinning the wheel?
In the who gets all or nothing lottery
Oh lucky me.
Each night we watch on our wide screen TV's
The wars and the hunger the death and disease,
In a world warming degree by degree
From fossil fuel burning for you and for me;
We want to change it, it isn’t fair,
But we turn it over and it isn’t there.
Who was naming the numbers?
Who was spinning the wheel?
In the who gets all or nothing lottery
Oh lucky me.
The morning I woke in broke kindly for me
Blessings like blossom fell from the tree,
And even on days when branches are bare
I know I have had more than my share;
I’ll count my blessings where the blossoms lie
And I’ll be wondering ‘til the day I die -
Who was naming the numbers?
Who was spinning the wheel?
In the who gets all or nothing lottery
Oh lucky me.
Oh lucky me.
Oh lucky me.
©Dave Atkinson 2001
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19. |
Lily Avenue
02:42
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Primrose Hill and Alum Chine poetry in a name,
More than just a label for the place from which they came;
Of Adelstrop and Turnham Green the same is also true
As it is of Jesmond Dene and Lily Avenue.
Your landlady’s a decent sort but tenants all beware,
Her property portfolio must stay in good repair;
Deposit paid in full up front now it’s up to you
To make sure there’s no damage done to Lily Avenue.
We got you a nice new desk flat-pack off the shelf,
The co-producing customer does half the work himself;
Batik from Kenya on the wall antique mirror too,
Moroccan rug roll on the floor in Lily Avenue.
Not for you the fate of which another Lily sung,
Life already over and still so very young;
At twenty, going on twenty one still so much to do
And the best is yet to come in Lily Avenue.
You love your Lily Avenue but now it’s understood,
A transient population can transform a neighbourhood;
Gardens which nobody cares to maintain or renew,
From such degradation spare Lily Avenue.
Let’s go dancing in the Dene and dream along the Quay,
Semi-independent you and reminiscing me;
Addresses in my younger days I had quite a few
But none of them so sweet to say as Lily Avenue.
©Dave Atkinson 2009.
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20. |
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It’s good to see you here, Cecilia,
Traveller from Renaissance Italy;
You won a Prince’s heart
And became a work of art,
Did you ever meet a minstrel man like me?
When you sat for Master Leonardo
He captured all that Prince-attracting charm,
Face half turned away, Cecilia,
White ermine resting on your arm.
I wonder who you see, Cecilia?
'Perhaps the Prince I did so well to please;
A lover for his bed,
But when his Highness wed
His thoughts were not of love but dynasties.
He cast me from the palace for another,
His Princess would not let him have it all'.
On your nearer cheek, Cecilia,
I see a silver tear begin to fall.
It’s time for me to go, Cecilia,
I think they want to close the gallery;
'If you're so liberal now,
Why will they not allow
You to be alone tonight with me?'
As I leave I look over my shoulder (I see)
To say a last farewell and then I see, (I see)
In a golden frame, Cecilia,
Turning your face to look at me.
I remember you so well, Cecilia,
Traveller from Renaissance Italy;
'I won your minstrel heart
And become a work of art
Every time you sing a song of me.
When I sat for Master Leonardo
He set my beauty free from ageing harm'.
When you sat for me, Cecilia,
I saw the ermine moving on your arm.
©Dave Atkinson 2012.
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21. |
Miranda and the Voyager
03:33
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I am the tiny moon Miranda,
Making my way around the sky;
Long ago there came a voyager,
A voyager from earth passing by.
Said I to the little earthling stranger:
‘Why not stay a while?
It’s cold and lonely here
And since you are so near
And tomorrow is so many million miles’.
‘I have come on scientific business
From my home so many years away;
Of planets and moons I am a witness,
Never at one to ever stay.
The people of my planet send their blessings,
Their songs, their dreams, their fears;
My trajectory is set,
My work not over yet,
And tomorrow is so many million years.
So farewell, tiny moon Miranda,
But before I vanish into space
I’ll be beaming back some pictures
To earth, of your lovely face’.
I am the tiny moon Miranda,
Making my way around the sky;
Long ago there came a voyager,
A voyager from earth passing by.
©Dave Atkinson 2013
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22. |
Facebookland
03:59
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Wide awake I am tonight, where I cannot tell,
Somewhere I have never been and know very well;
Trivia and trauma, the blessed and the cursed,
I thought things were bad enough but this ten times worse.
The Operator says to me ‘Forget what you got planned,
‘Forget what you got planned, it’s Facebookland’.
The citizens of Facebookland taunt me with the trim
Of muscles and bikini-lines and visits to the gym;
I know that the songs they write are very good indeed
From guitar-playing hero shots on my Facebook feed.
Tonight I’m taking to the stage with my one-man band,
With my one-man band in Facebookland.
They all love their families more than I do mine,
And with all the friends they have, everything’s just fine;
There’s angels, saints and saviours watching over you -
Don’t you fret ‘cos you can bet, God’s on Facebook too.
All it takes is your ‘Amen’, a single click command -
A single click command in Facebookland.
Wise and worthy sayings are posted on the wall,
From all things weird and wonderful there’s no escape at all;
Deep down in the basement I could hear the hum
Of algorithms counting clicks and making up the sums
To propagate more nonsense on the bewildered and the damned,
The bewildered and the damned of Facebookland.
Beware of what they tell you, not all of it is so,
Just the bits that reinforce what you already know;
Facebookland will simplify the issues of the day
For anyone who finds the facts getting in the way.
Help me Operator, I don’t understand,
I don’t understand this Facebookland.
Cynical old fool, I know that’s what I am,
But I don’t need my daily bread served with Facebook jam;
I shot the Operator and went to find a friend,
Not one of the Facebook kind, but face to face again.
By blood and bone he led me, led me by the hand,
Led me by the hand from Facebookland.
I got clear of Facebookland before the break of day,
Dodging wi-fi warriors all along the way;
From some far-off phoneless place I watched it sinking down,
Suitcase and guitar in hand, feet on solid ground.
That’s how I forgot about all that I had planned,
All that I had planned and Facebookland.
©Dave Atkinson 2016
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23. |
Wellington's Lament
03:01
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Let there peace in your lifetime
I was a soldier once and young
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
When the battle was all over
Then I could see what we had done
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
Look at the fruits of our victory
Human windfall rotting in the sun
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
We all have our fatherless children
Our widows and our mothers without sons
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
Once there were graveyards with flowers
Then young girls picked them every one
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
I may be written down in history
As the one who beat Napoleon
Second only to the misery of losing
The misery of having won.
©Dave Atkinson 2019
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24. |
Impressions
02:14
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I wander down the high street where I have been before,
Past the war memorial and Mrs Robert's store,
And the road is like a rainbow in the neon bands of rain;
From leaning on my window cill things are much the same
As they have always been.
I see you every morning on my way from home
And you always turn your head away when I stop to say hello;
And the street is bare and empty and the sky hangs low in shame,
From seeing you go by things are not the same
As they have always been.
An ocean lies between us now my ship has run aground,
I wander down the street again another day goes round;
And the square is full of people dancing in the rain,
From standing in their shadows things are just the same
As they have always been.
©Dave Atkinson 1969
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Dave Atkinson Chester, UK
I have been writing songs since 1967 when I was 17 and since I have accumulated over 440. Early influences were Dylan, Cohen, Jackson Browne Joni Mitchell, Kristofferson. Though never 'successful' in any conventional sense, my songs and guitar have led many sing-rounds and a couple of 1970's albums sell for £100s as 'rare vinyl'. Above all, it has been a happy adventure. www.atkinsongs.co.uk ... more
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by The Secret Sisters
The Alabama duo's fifth album exults in dusty Americana, showcasing rich vocal harmonies alongside blissful folk instrumentation.
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The haunting new record from Canadian folk artist Avi C. Engel bridges old and new traditions with a minimalist approach.
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The King Of Misery
by Daudi Matsiko
featured on Bandcamp Radio Nov 7, 2023
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The instrumental ensemble Dt/IG straddles the line between folk and classical, stirring acoustics augmented by sumptuous arrangements.
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The latest from the UK’s Chris Brain is a gorgeously wrought album of tender acoustic folk music.
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they only talk about the weather
by Arny Margret
The Icelandic songwriter packs her stunning debut with sweeping melodies delivered via intimate, folky arrangements.
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Ruth's sophomore release explores sacred signs against a backdrop of folk melodies and acoustic guitar.
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