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Night

from Newfoundland by Great North

/

lyrics

My back against the wall. Singing to the sound of rumbling guns. You were music to my tired and trembling bones. Glowing like livewire. Rolling with the blows. Taking up the bets. You set fire to the whisperers by my bed. I held you in my arms in reverent fear. Singing every line. Signing every cheque.

I was lying to the gun. A cold shiver in my guts as they bayed for blood. You looked straight into my eyes and told me to run. Holding all the cards. Adding up the sums.

A trapdoor opening up. Our first child gasping in the morning frost. There he was, our God, on a three stranded rope. No perfumed rich man’s grave. No stone to roll away.

On a westbound cattle cart we brokered with the night for a little more time. I counted the rise and fall of your heart against mine. The weak will carry me. The least will hold the least. The strong will write the lines.

I will go, I will go, chariot swing low.
I will go, I will go, with my father’s ghost.
I will go, I will go, turn the stage lights off.
I will go, I will go, let the curtain fall.

Burn the books. Break the dams. Black out history. At the end. At the night. We begin again

credits

from Newfoundland, released November 1, 2010

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