A NUMBER OF YOUNG LOVERS

From a live show by A Number of Young Lovers recorded in the living room of 4A Hartington Rd, Brighton, UK.  (Thanks to Holly for taking the photos in the previous posts!)  There are two songs here and they are the last of the set.  Boy Runner is a song based on a newspaper story.  Saints features a verse and a chorus about my favourite sea creature, the nautilus.

Lyrics

Boy Runner

Strung up upside down,
hanging from the ceiling fan.
And though I’m scolded and beat,
I wear a smile, not a frown,
upside down.

It’s my new nature to run.
I’ll pound the streets with a tyre around my waist.
And every step is money
for the folks back home.

My pretty face on the front page:
“Those kids belong in a government home.”
They won’t protect us,
we don’t got the money.
Got to make it alone.

My parents don’t own me.
My boss, he don’t own me.
If I just kept on running…

Saints

So the light covers the forest floor,
depending on the positions of the leaves.
And creatures defend this shifting territory,
from their competitors’ offense and mischief.

Your todays, you recollect, then they gather regret
like books gather dust
if left on the shelf.  The love that you gave,
the love you witheld may leave you frustrated.

Each month he moves on a chamber;
it’s where the moon reaches the sea.
And galaxies, when he adds a layer,
share his style, logarithmically.

If you fell out of step
with the moon,
then your growth might be delayed,
or come too soon.
Each month you would reside in a chamber
of ill-fitting size.
You might find that you miss connections,
and misplace your life.

These legs,
though not fully grown
will carry me forward.
- Forwards.

(Come, Umm Kulthum, come to Cario)

And though my back is torn,
pain is something I’ve learned to ignore.
- Oh.

(Come, Umm Kulthum, come to Cario)

An uncluttered head,
sees the sky and the land and runs.
- And runs.

(Come, Umm Kulthum, come to Cario)

I fear a time is coming
when I can no longer ignore my saints.
- My saints.

(Come, Umm Kulthum, come to Cario)

Oh blessed saints,
oh Michael, oh Catherine, oh Margaret,
- Spare me.

(Come, Umm Kulthum, come to Cario)

You’ve blessed my eyes,
and I would like nothing more than to be gone,
as you are