(P. Assirati)

I wrote the lyric in one hit on the back of an envelope after a long drive, one of those moments when it all just comes from wherever. Musically, the top three strings ring unfretted throughout. The backing vocals are supposed to sound like a spaghetti western.

Someone better call me a cab cos I think I’ve seen enough
I need somewhere to hide away so I can sleep this off
The tears the saints spilt and my Catholic guilt sandblasted into my soul
How I got lost in a house on a hill I really do not know
I had a lover who was pretty and true, no ring and a bottle of red
Flicked through the books, no more than a look
So I could quote what I should have read
I was drowning in words that were false and absurd, people I couldn’t stand
I threw it all away on St John’s day when it all got too much out of hand

I woke from a dream I wished I’d never seen, there was a purple and an orange dawn
Stumble and fall not able to crawl, crossing lines someone else must have drawn
Drove a wreck of a car with a hole in my heart, the car was borrowed and old
Wrapped in a sheet chucked on the back seat was something that was better off sold
I spoke with a man with my head in my hands, my hair was thinning and grey
Asked was he aware of the way, I was sacred and the time was slipping away
I collected my coat, my guitar and my notes. I threw my old jacket away
Walked into the night, not a friendly in sight, nothing of note left to say

Caught by a smile but I knew deep inside it was a dead end waiting for me to hit
Things that matter, they matter the most, shape my heart, my vision, my grip
People talk for a while in a very nice style then you find out just what they want
Lining their beds with the thoughts from my head
They kick out when it all goes wrong
My fingers ran along my collection of songs, their spines alphabetically strewn
To unlock and play all the words I want to say and the love I was saving for you
I know that I’ve changed had my plans rearranged, the fire that was burning has gone
I’m paying the cost, I’m a pilgrim that’s lost
I’m standing in the shadow of the church of St John