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Wonderland

by Richard Gorman

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    'This is beautiful poetry' - John Hegley

    Musical drama. Stories as songs. Tales of love, comedy and tragedy punctuated by a cast list of extraordinary character sketches. The last man on Earth afloat on his boat, the poetess reflecting on woodland passions, the Devil, Yuri Gagarin and Ina the Office Cleaner rub shoulders in a collection of unique musical tales and poetic portraits.

    A very special thank you to Joanna Trzeciak for both her encouragement and wonderful translation of Commemoration.
    Commemoration appears in the Wislawa Syzmborska poetry anthology 'Miracle Fair' published by W.W.Norton.

    Jewel Case and 4 page inlay booklet.
    Features cover and interior artwork by Tithi Luadthong with design by David MacKenzie. www.dmackenzie.com

    Includes unlimited streaming of Wonderland via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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    Get all 31 Richard Gorman releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Welcome to the Holy Land, Fretwork, Stone and Feather, The Weaving Shed, Don't Try This at Home, Man Walks into a Bar, Medication, Zeitgeist, and 23 more. , and , .

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1.
Commemoration (after Wislawa Szymborska) They make love among hazel Beneath sundrops of dew Gathering in their hair The forest’s residue Kneel by the lakeside Comb the earth and the leaves Fish swim in the water A shimmering galaxy Heart of the swallow have mercy on them Tree mist reflected On the rippling waves Swallow may this memory Be forever engraved O thorn of the sky Anchor of the air Scribe your silent and timeless Cloud calligraphy Halo of lovers have mercy on them Halo of lovers have mercy on them
2.
The Corinthian For Sócrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira, MD (19 February 1954 – 4 December 2011) Did you pay good money to watch me win? Better mind those pocketing your coin. They’ll tell you that they own the game, that was once so very beautiful, and by their reckoning we’re all losers. No gold in 1982; no Mundial, no medals. But medals are for Generals and Generals are liars. Joy means more than glory. Good money? Can you believe in such a thing? There’s a lot of this sickness around but never fear; I am a healer. Look, there’s the ball behind me and here comes perfection; the blind back heel. I see nothing. I do not need to. I know where this is going. Democracia, Revolution. Lennon, Che, Castro. Words fail. The power of myth is unspeakable; the knowledge that poetry is tragedy, that the greatest loss becomes the greatest victory. They do not see it coming. Like the precision chip or the reverse pass; like the Disappeared. The most striking beauty you will ever see is invisible. “That Brazilian team represented fantasy, idealism, an idyll. Italy represented efficiency, effectiveness. But at least we lost fighting for our ideals. And you can compare that to society today. We have lost touch with humanity, people are driven by results. They used to go to football to see a spectacle. Now, with very few exceptions, they go to watch a war and what matters is who wins. For me beauty comes first, victory is secondary and what really matters is joy!” Sócrates
3.
Days of Sail 04:11
Days of Sail Homeless sea birds lend their voices To the mourning wind And the towers of man that reached for the sky Are haunting the fathoms below Night unveils cruel stars to steer by But there’s nowhere left to go Mountains that rose like gods overhead Are islands alone in the deep Once upon a time there were wonders Magic beyond compare Dreams that dance in small boxes Metal birds sliced the air We touched the moon, burned the forests Saw through miracle eyes Brewed great storms, heard the ice crack And watched the flood waters rise Surrender to the heedless ocean That rolls over the cities of men Adrift on the blue, last soul afloat The red sun sinks on days of sail
4.
The Old Singer for Agnes Brews two cups brings them through to the living room and the empty chair where no-one sits watching the wrestling. Folds shirts, hangs jackets, lays out a favourite cloth cap; then remembers to pack them away into waiting boxes. In the suddenly spare room, where she still sleeps, rods and reels stand to attention awaiting an inspection that is never going to come. For a moment the television is gone and coal blazes on the fire. English aristocracy crackle reassuringly through the crystal set. For an instant the comforting all in this together tingle of war, and she yields a few bars for auld lang syne. But on the table an electric loom, needles and pins, gather and rust. The old Singer, silent among so many lost threads, recalls St.Patrick’s on the hill. Altar boys and celestial hymns. Their voices come again. Balancing choirs of angels sing from a hollow headed ribbon pin. The Lord Is My Shepherd. She fastens them to her breast. Steps into the lobby where, footsteps from the tenement stair, bring yet louder echoes. Frozen she hears the postman struggle to force his burden through. And as she stoops they fall and fall and fall and flutter. Envelopes and angels, halos and wings, moth like and bright, dove plumed condolences pull Agnes to her knees, inconsolable, for her swan song. Soul keen and no-one to hear it.
5.
The Crash 03:48
The Crash (1st line by ‘Ray’) I don’t know why I’m up in the sky it’s a long way down The headlights of cars are shifting like stars on the ground. The distance I see between you and me becomes ocean wide And the weight of regrets I cannot forget breaks me up inside I love you and hope to die Cross my heart For richer or for poor ‘til death us part I saw her alone after you had gone home at the office do And though I’d like to pretend I was drunk in the end that’s untrue Secret money was spent on our dirty weekends on hotels and booze Swapping e-mails and texts on our forbidden sexual rendezvous I love you and hope to die Cross my heart For richer or for poor ‘til death us part She slipped back into her dress asked for one last caress before we go And the last I recall I knocked back a small whisky for the road Her perfume smelt sweet on the passenger seat on the motorway I called you to supply all the usual lies then my memory fades I love you and hope to die Cross my heart For richer or for poor ‘til death us part
6.
Oor Ina (Shut Yer Wallapin’ Jas!) Ina shines the furniture tae keep oor office clean. She’s a sprightly three and seventy going on seventeen. She’s thindly and spindly wi’ bandy knockit knees. Her moo’s all thin and crinkly. Her F’s turn intae P’s. She’s yer private life improver, yer top management abuser. She’s the groover wi’ the hoover. She’s a sticky stain remover. Ye could be the King of Siam and she’d tell ye tae yer face and if yer just the District Manager ye’d better ken yer place. She cleans up conversations and she keeps the cupboards miceless. Ye might think yer worth a fortune but oor Ina’s puckin’ priceless.
7.
Harold And Maud My body’s in the earth but my head’s in the stars My body’s in the earth but my head’s in the stars Young Harold wears black as he swings from the rope Fraying the nerves of his mother He hangs around funerals just for the show Flirting with death like a lover Hush now as mourners confess their regrets and loves One last cold caress sets us free from the cares of this world Old Maud cracks a smile as she catches his eye Entices him back to her trailer She hordes secrets in trunks and magical junk With the miraculous touch of a healer There’s passion and grace in the knowing embrace of the old and wise And the trappings of youth are merely loves mask and disguise He offers her loves token She casts it in the sea Saying now the whole world’s oceans Bring your tides of love to me She steals hearts, she steals cars, mixes potions in jars Lives life in perpetual motion They dance and they sing pluck on old banjo strings Watch fireworks bloom over the ocean His heart breaks as she offers her hand for death’s final dance But his spirit’s reborn with a foretaste of love and romance She said My body’s in the earth but my head’s in the stars My body’s in the earth but my head’s in the stars My body’s in the earth but my head’s in the stars
8.
Before Jets for Frank During the blitz no-one slept near the airfield. Everyone knew where the bombs would fall. I used to help shift the planes every evening. I was ground crew you see; no wings. On siren nights I’d just watch it all light up and enjoy the show. Well, this one night the Heinkels hit the aerodrome. The quartermasters goes up. Off comes the roof and the whole sky’s flapping with shirts and vests and socks and trousers. And it’s blowing a gale so there are flying jackets, real ones, stuck to the tops of trees; like a flock of fliers with failed ’chutes. I see the whole thing. So I run back and load our air crews into a truck. We climb the trees, grab the jackets and chase loose underwear all night. They could freeze solid up in those cockpits you know. I just wanted to keep them warm. I couldn’t go with them of course. But I’d watch and wave the whole lot of them off and some of them back. Some of them, family and friends. Long before your time, right enough. Before jets. I learned on them after the war. After we had Ian and Wendy me and Dorothy got moved around a lot. Always together. Well it’s all jets now and I’ve waved off Ian and Dorothy. Orkney’s nice enough though. I’m taken care of here and there’s a lot of sky. But they’re all up there now keeping it warm for me and really I’m just waiting for my wings.
9.
Red Ghost 06:48
Red Ghost The star fell through the daytime sky And braving fate my friend and I Picked small footsteps through tall corn Afraid of what we’d chanced upon The Red Ghost rose from his ship of silver To haunt our memories forever He said ‘I have touched the firmament And your angels and your gods are but the dreams of men’ He kissed the earth and set his eyes on Crop waves sweeping the horizon To wide eyed children seeking treasure He spoke of distance without measure He said ‘From the stars a man can see An end to greed and vanity’ Then they came to take the Red Ghost home They came for him in army trucks and uniforms This nation’s soul was forged in ice The twenty million sacrificed Who poured their lifeblood on the snows At Stalingrad And I was born a peasant’s son Our Mother’s and our Father’s won This great land from west to east From Tsar and superstitious priest Our Motherland The proud fruit of our nation’s toil Won by son’s and daughter’s of the soil, Who will not buy or sell their souls, Who do not worship wealth or gold; Is harvested for all beneath the Russian sky We watch the heaven’s from afar Point metal fingers to the stars Now the sacred earth beneath me burns The world below recedes and turns And the petty differences of men Fall away as I ascend No longer one of them On TV and state radio I watched the Red Ghost legend grow They closed the book and threw it at you Clipped your wings and put up statues The prize bird behind gilded bars The first of men to touch the stars Now you always hurt the ones you love Taunted by the freedom of the hawk and dove Now alcohol tempts you to flee From this hotel balcony Press and commissars have told you There is no earthly power that can hold you So like Icarus before the sun One final pair of wings to burn You fall star-like to earth again For the angels and the gods are but the dreams of men
10.
Shooting At Cans Child’s play with your BB rifle; shooting at cans, shooting at cans. Earned your stripes for Uncle Samuel; he made you a man, he made you a man. Christian soldiers on parade; Sousa big band, Sousa big band. Off to fight the great Crusade; Contra-Iran, Contra-Iran. Sing Hail to the Chief as his sabre rattles; line in the sand, line in the sand. Computers and robots are winning his battles; badda-bam-budda Buddha Bamiyan. Marshal the Press Corps and press gang the umpire; Kofi Annan, Kofi Annan. Bushwack the ragheads without facing gunfire; Afghanistan, Afghanistan. Out hunting snipe you’ve been trained for hard targets; Americana American. Now you’re home on the range in your own supermarket; shooting at cans, shooting at cans.
11.
Soldier Song 03:13
Soldier Song The forgotten soldier still answers the call He still remembers the writing on the wall It said your country needs you But the years have slipped by You grow old and you find She doesn’t need you any more Backlit by lightning like scarecrows on the wire Through the screams and fighting The gas burned your lungs like fire They fell like stalks in a field Under harvesters blades But some always remain to stand lonely in the wind By a country roadside among the green fields of France He lays a wreath of flowers recalls the final advance Wonders why he’s here today But you know what they say Old soldiers never die they just fade away
12.
Acidhead Susie Acidhead Susie chunky junkie pothead floozie fast lane flunky crunchy munchies tea and mushies liquid lunches headrush flushes dippy pie-eyed astral hippy trippy tie-dyed chocolate chippy sick and sourly sweet and sooty flower powerly sleeping beauty high life never knows tomorrow red hot knife she sucks and swallows ripped and wronged monged and bonged going going going gonged
13.
Strict Tempo 06:05
Strict Tempo The foot that turns, the nimble step, The hip glide and the steady chin, Are all belonged to Morag As she ushers sixty in. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, What’s the story? Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory. From the waves, up from the fields, From the young man hungry ocean, They’d haul the nets and drop the plough Tae watch her poetry in motion. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, What’s the story? Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory. One led her like a thoroughbred Through two-step, jig and reel. He wrapped her in his Rousay waltz Like sand upon the seal. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, What’s the story? Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory. Their son rose strong as Brodgar stone And graceful as the winds blow, She tried tae keep his feet in step And raised him in strict tempo. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, What’s the story? Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory. But his heart skipped tae a different beat Within the arms o’ ither men. She swore she’d never see his face Or speak his name again. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, What’s the story? Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory. She’s lost her lad who found a love That dare not speak its name, He danced wi’ death in Edinburgh, He’s never coming hame. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, There’s the story, Heel-toe, heel-toe, Morag in her glory.
14.
Cowboys You’d like Mark. He’s young and free and very single. We take the number 28 which dumps us at the factory gates where we make cash machines. He speaks wearing earphones and a small smile. ‘Night shift’s a killer eh?’ says he. -True enough- Mark hasn’t missed a day since we started. ‘I take every minute of overtime.’ -I know- We all think he’s mad. Did I know it was his wee boy’s birthday tomorrow? -No- He’s gonnae be five. He’s got him a Game Boy and they’re having a party. ‘The wee man’s brilliant at computer games. He stays up all night and flies through space killing alien invaders.’ Mark loves computer games and he’s got an idea. ‘Ye could be in the Wild West. Ye could be a cowboy or a sheriff or the baddie and go into the saloon and play poker and ride on the plains and through canyons wi yer horse and yer gun. That wid be a great game!’. -I suppose so- We disembark the 28 and trudge toward the factory gate where Mark puts in for overtime and works the whole weekend. They all think he’s mad. I know he’s not. Mark builds cash machines but he’s got a five year old son who saves the world.
15.
Widow Of Rhodes Leather faced I am and tough as old boots. Black on black on black I am; black for my daughters, black for my sons, black for my husbands. I defy this punishing heat and soak up the spiteful sun. It was the quaking earth who broke me, rattled my bones and toppled my spine like a column of Lindos. It wasn’t always so. Once I was pale alabaster, It wasn’t always so a sleek caryatid beauty, who scolded Colonels with a mother’s rage. Red flagged and red blooded Fighting for freedom with a woman’s voice. Once I was flesh and blood, even as you are now. Lithe, supple and flushed with life. When the grey coats marched the Jews away. When Fascist rifles spat in the faces of our Fathers. I was a child then The calico nymph, the mountain orchid, the island rodhos. Fresh as the Aegean wind and tough as old boots.
16.
Mr.Eric Blair At Corryvrechan Nightmare builds from the Jura swell. Mere words do her no justice. Her mood overwhelms any small man in a boat. The monster seizes you in fearful tumult and flips your hollow shell for no good reason. Not your own life, but a child’s and a bride’s, swirl before your eyes. Fierce undertow hauls clear the outboard from its mooring. Technology drops deadweight to the very bottom. Spilled sodden blankets spin with all the insanity of flags. You’ve coughed and you’ve bled, wielded like scalpels the sword and the pen, but only desperation or fathomless divine whim will spare you this revolution. So two legs are better than four and suddenly worse than none at all. Idiot brine drowns you in childish allegory and betters your very best. No one mind or chamber can hold the indifferent horrors of this world. Weaker men forever yield to them. Watch now as ranks of us rear up to spit salt in your eye. Your lone voice is obliterated by the Atlantic roar. So you strike out blindly and you scream and you cry and you curse and you choke back the blood in your lungs, ‘til they burst. Pitted singly against this ocean of mockery no-one takes up your fight. We all make our excuses. We do what we must to survive and we do what we must to survive and we do what we must to survive. But no-one survives.
17.
Bold Magnus 05:31
Bold Magnus I’m Magnus of Hoy, I belong to the waves, The sea is my mistress and shall be my grave Take heed of my song. Chased by the dolphins and jeered by the gulls They’d follow our wake from the Skerries to Hull And the Old man of stone There to welcome us home Though bitter north winds made my soul sore afraid In kirks and in missions the womenfolk prayed For our safe return They’d crowd us at anchor for the wealth in our hold We’d harvest the seas turning silver to gold No room left below, the creel overflows And all the girls cry for Magnus come home from the sea One by one my old crew passed the bridal cog round And the lassies all wondered would Magnus bed down And take root on the land The stars as my guides steered me to her that night And the moon parted clouds for to gaze on the sight Of her eyes shining like pearls and her seaweed dark curls She said, ‘I like you am a stranger to land’ Humbled my heart with a touch of her hand And led me astray Tell me what man can fathom a love run so deep I cradled my peedie young beauty to sleep But the sun struck the mist from the bay And my love was vanished away I took up the helm with a spurned man’s pride Fished the dark swell where the white horses ride Heard the old Thunder God’s roar He puffed out his cheeks and he blew ‘til they cracked Split our proud masthead and broke my poor back Oh darkest of days Stole my shipmates and sea legs away No more would Bold Magnus go sail on the sea I gazed seaward beneath the dark shoulder of Hoy Dreaming alone as the years drifted by Of seeing her face She came with the seals and lay down by my side Her lips touching mine we slipped under the tide And swam clear to the sea My Selkie and me I am Magnus of Hoy I belong to the waves
18.
Alternate for Robert Wyatt Jazz Robert Tequilla Progressive Robert Southern Comfort Hairy Robert Tequilla Vibrant Robert Southern Comfort Psychedelic Robert Tequilla Lout Robert Southern Comfort Soft Robert Tequilla Communist Robert Southern Comfort Tequilla Southern Comfort Te q ui ll a S ou t her n Co m fo r t T e qu i l la la la la la la la la la l l Beautiful Robert
19.
Last Orders 05:12
Last Orders I drain another beer and strip the barmaid with the old evil eye A couple more skinfulls puts off staggering home to the wife Feed my wages to the bandit soon run out of money and luck Got the bum’s rush before I could score Slid like a snake across the liquour stained floor Kicked out in the street when I ask for one more He pulled me from the gutter put a steadying hand on my arm He said ‘You’ve had enough already son so another won’t do you no harm There’s a bar a little further down the road here where my credit is good’ I said ‘I’m tempted but I don’t feel too stable’ He said ‘I guarantee they’ll find us a table And there’ll be top-ups as long as you’re able’ So I said that I would Through the glass revolving doorway beneath the red lamp on the wall The waitresses were angels and they poured the whisky tall Full of smoke and sweat stained mirrors that stared back into your soul The juke box played the devil’s music that old time rock and roll He comes on over familiar and everyone here knows your name He pours a generous measure of loneliness heartache and shame The flies round the bar all have faraway looks in their eyes The women look hot but their expressions are cold I know it’s a poisoned chalice I hold I know this is more than just one for the road Says he ‘You know it’s bad manners to leave before your glass has run dry’ But I can’t finish this whisky no matter how hard I swallow and try He raises one eyebrow says ‘Son don’t you know where you are?’ Well I sweat like a pig in the sweltering heat It takes all of my strength to pull myself to my feet And I see my own corpse face down in the street He said ‘Welcome to the purgatory bar’ Through the glass revolving doorway beneath the red lamp on the wall The waitresses are angels and they pour the whisky tall Full of smoke and sweat stained mirrors that stare back into your soul The juke box plays the devil’s music that old time rock and roll
20.
Sun King Lully carves the very air for you with two dozen violins. They caper, prance and play for you Dukes, Dauphins and Kings. Cathedral choirs sing for you, invest you with God’s majesty. Nations cry and sweat and bleed for you and Versailles’ ruthless symmetry. Olympus waits in stone for you and bows to your reflection in the mirrored hall that shines for you and your daily resurrection. The fawning and the fearful orbit and surround you. So what’s it like to know for certain that the world revolves around you?
21.
Wonderland 05:12
Wonderland Where will I go when my eyes close? I know I cannot live forever Here in Wonderland My love is gone, our child has grown And I could never dream such beauty Would ever come to me No Paradise could match this life Here in Wonderland Yes I have sinned and I regret Too late I offer my forgiveness To those who poisoned me My heartbeat stills, I bow my head And thank you for immortal hours That you spent with me When we are gone only our songs Remain in Wonderland I have loved and I have played the fool And wasted my days chasing phantoms Until I understood that I too must fade away This breathing stops, the clock stands still Beyond the sky the sun is frozen And I must take my leave My cooling touch, this parting wish That you my son live for tomorrow Forget today Now I am gone I leave you my song To sing in Wonderland
22.
Denise Is Coming Out Today God knows she’s waited long enough, my little sister of the cross, to cast aside the crucifixion albatross. No more need to pray. Denise is coming out today. The heart you slept alone with dreamt the answer all along. Mute childhood hymns and sing aloud your own song. Same sex love discovery. Denise shares her petite dejeuner. Uncrop your hair and drop that placard. Leave those combat boots at home. This celebration has no place for uniforms. Glad to be gay. Denise is coming out to play . Secrecy is cowardice. Bravery is truth. The voice of courage silences the weeping scars of youth. Tomorrow swallows doubt. Denise is coming out.
23.
The Ballad of Jupiter Fring See that light in the sky? Well that’s where I’m from And I’m going home when I die My oh my, Lady Gravity Will lose hold of me and I’ll fly I was born on the day that the Earth stood still My veins run with alien chlorophyl And my homeworld spins a billion miles away I’ve got mind reading powers and x-ray eyes And that’s how I came to realise that the end is near And I’ve got to get out of here You’ve got sex, drugs and rock n’ roll Red head women and whisky But here on my TV screen comes another obscene War movie scene I’ve got radio hearing and plastic skin But you’re still getting to me I’m tuning in to your nightmares And your gun-toting fantasies When I get back home I think I might send you all a postcard Just before you become extinct like the dinosaurs With all your crazy gods and religious wars I’m beaming up You’ve burned a hole in the sky and it looks like your time is up I’m phoning home I’m hitchhiking back to my heavenly pleasure dome I came down to help you out on my secret mission But don’t call us we’ll call you You’ve failed your audition to reach the stars The ice caps are melting it’s time to run Your finger’s on the button It’s time for me to thumb a lift out of here Back up through the atmosphere My flying saucer’s waiting it’s time for me to go So thank you for the music It’s been nice getting got know you all Before your big curtain call Now I’m up on this window ledge Fifteen stories above you There’s a voice trying to talk me down Saying ‘We’re all on your side Please don’t commit suicide’ But... See that light in the sky? Well that’s where I’m from And I’m going home when I die My oh my, Lady Gravity Will lose hold of me So now I’m up in the sky You’re all way below Waving please don’t go, but... Don’t you know I can fly I step into air Time to kiss you all Goodbye

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released January 27, 2017

All words and music Richard Gorman except
Commemoration - Poem by Wislawa Szymborska trans. Joanna Trzeciak and The Crash - Gorman / Ray

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Richard Gorman Dundee, UK

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