Stories behind the lyrics

I started writing these songs a couple of years ago, when I was unexpectedly single again and felt lonely, and sometimes a bit pissed. Some of them have been shelved or are on hold, either because they badly incomplete, badly written, or even offensive, but I think it’s important to list all the titles, so that I don't present a synthetic, artificial image here. I have never built my reputation on manners, tact and diplomacy, as all the beardy men at folk clubs around will verify. However, copies of original lyrics are available privately, should you wish to find out a bit more about these songs.

Here’s a list of titles, with the odd verse thrown in for effect. The recorded ones are on the ‘Music’ tab. If you feel that you like what you see hear, and would like to contribute towards our production time and costs, then please get in touch. But with regard to buying into Millbrig, and owning this segment of my life, my memories, and my current creative spirit, you have no chance. Well, not unless you are very wealthy indeed.

Meldrum Wifeys  written when I first came to Millbrig near the village,  as a single parent......guess I felt a bit out of sorts....

'...Single woman, single mum, Oldmeldrum's never seen the like,

There ain't no other single mama here, riding round on a motorbike...'

The Busking song  my story of leaving home at 16, and busking while travelling on the road for a year or two, in Brighton, London (when it was illegal on the tube) and around the South of France, jumping trains and winding up picking grapes in Catalonia to get the fare home again. Squatting in London, as people did then. Crazy times, but the best of times. Few photos exist from then, so thanks to Keith for this photo of Keith and Martin, mates from my hometown, taken just before I left.

'I know a girl who left home at sixteen,

She didn't fit in, if you know what I mean,

Roundabouts this time she learned the guitar,

She wanted to travel cos she’d never been far.

Vauxhall Astra  penned when I was as worried about the car packing up as I was about my (then) relationship. The other person couldn’t handle three teenagers, it seems. Lightweight. The car was given to me after the split, and therefore outlasted the relationship as predicted. Two weeks later it was written off by one of my teenagers, a week after passing her test. Ironic. She survived, and I’ve never worried about cars since. Or relationships.

‘What are the odds your 1600 Astra,

Won't make it past 200,000 miles?'

Skylark  A sad song about summer, true love and it’s passing. Guess this mother got it wrong….

'Oh, the grass is always greener, on the other side of the fence

And there's many a romantic dreamer, and gambler taking their chance,

And the skies are always bluer, and he flew higher than all the rest,

This skylark sang, then she came down again, to look after her chicks in the nest'

Magpie Man Lament about a bygone lover. A diamond and emerald engagement ring is alluded to. I gave it back. I hear children work down the diamond mines. A  warning to other women who partner someone for years, but are then left with nothing at the end of it. 

'How the July sun shone, high overhead

Life was all sunshine, and no thought ahead

And you built a house for the day you retire,

And I built a dream to lift me out of the mire'

Love is in the air  Written at an illegal festival in Aberdeenshire, when the singer of a band gave me ‘the nod’. I was very tempted, but didn’t go there as he was married…so I think this song puts that record straight, wifeys.

'Yes, you can have her, and other ones too,

One song from you and they're melting

But don't look at me, with those big brown eyes

Don't touch me or you'll get a belting!'

We’re all in this together, my friend 

Was thinking about a young friend of a friend, who sadly attempted suicide, and I have read that men are more disposed towards this than women. Stepped off my feminist high horse, and wrote this for him (or for anyone feeling worthless). It’s a kind of invitation to everybody feeling hopeless to come be a musician, instead. Feel the love, dudes.

'This song goes out to the folk that we've lost,

To them that feel they can't make it

This love goes out to you, genuine love

'Coz I'm telling you boys, I don't fake it.'

UN Resolution 1325 Look it up yourself. At the time I wrote this protest song I genuinely believed that women were being allowed access to and control of post-conflict re-distribution of resources (international development funding) to rebuild their damaged communities. But now, I’m not so any rate, women are sure fed up of conflict, and all that entails. Thanks to Abiola Crown for her support at that time. We went up and sang this and other songs at the Tin Hut – two women of colour belting it out, and I was honoured to play along with them. I have since been banned from playing there.

'There's plenty of women out there, who are suffering in the name of war

They're traumatised, half starving, raped, they just can't take anymore...'

Fly away  The clue is in the title. Was playing in a pub once, and had some unwelcome attention. Maybe some men assume that all women singing in pubs are 'up for it'. They're not. But I guess we all want to get away from some people, sometimes... 

'I need, I need, to get out of this place,

I need, I need, to fly away'

OK, these next songs move away from one girl and a guitar, and are the second phase of Millbrig. I crawled out of my duvet and faced up to the world again. Strings was the first happy song I had sung for years. And what brought this on? Oh yeah, nearly forgot. I met a tall, dark, handsome stranger…..the ones we have recorded on the cd are not on this page

Road to Dundee

A folk song about taking the road from Aberdeen to Dundee. Sad memories, as that road was trod many times by a friend of mine as they often visited their friend to make music with him, but he is no longer around.

The Fishing Song 

A folk song about the fishing folk in Aberdeen. I originally added the words to  ‘When the line went down’ by Yorlum,  then Steve took my words and re-wrote the tune. A great narrative about fishermen hauling a good catch. It reflects the culture and history of Aberdeen, before oil. I love this song, and want to sing it every time I go out.

'We all hoped for a catch that day,

The men were hungry, the women did pray,

We broke the law on the Sabbath day,

When the line went down'.

Waiting for you  Waiting. A lot. A blues song about endlessly waiting for someone, who is not up for it. And letting them know that you won’t wait round forever. Words based on Steve's recorded Yorlum tune called 'Checking the tide'.  Yorlum has produced their own version of this song, but I would like to record my slower blues version one day.

'Waiting for you, checking the tide,

Waiting for the right time to travel, to the other side.'

Pulling a heavy plough  A folk song about the toil of being a mother, (I genuinely cried for over an hour when I wrote the first line of this song) coupled with the dilemma of also being a healthy, happy woman, longing for a good time. Well, after a couple of pints, anyway. Just sometimes. In my head, that is. Sowing the barley refers to having children.

'This story began, so many years ago,

When I worked the fields, and handfuls of barley I sowed

The seasons went by, and I pulled such a heavy plough

So forgive me if, I seem a little crazy, right now'.

Midnight train  A loud rock/blues song about missing the midnight train (aka not getting one's oats). Fiesty, and liable to offend faint any faint-hearted Presbyterians.

'Now I don't care if people try to warn me,

They say 'Back off!' and 'Hurry on your way!'

He's really cool, yes I'm the one overheating, (Oh Lord)

And I'll be back to ride that midnight train'.

Flowers and bees  Floaty little ‘girly’ song about flowers, their beauty and their short lives. I was thinking about my youngest daughter. A new style, using the fret board for a change. 

Fox and Hare  A folk song about a mythical village in Scotland, invaded by the English, but this time the villagers come out on top. The foxes, to this day, remain hidden in their dens. Kind of reminds me of N Ireland in the 1970's. Is it safe to mention that the foxes remind me of the IRA?  A complicated tune, that changing beat more times than a woman changes her mind.

Recorded on you-tube somewhere. 

Dark Shore  Picture the rocky beach at the base of the cliffs on a dark, moonlit night. An owl swoops right past your head. It happened. 

'Long is the night, beside the dark shore

The light barely shows from the moon

A boat is nearby, all around is dark sky

And I won't move anytime soon'

Village Hats  A mystery box is delivered to the village hall – and much fun ensues. The most unlikely people try on the clothes in the box. A policeman looks particularly fetching in a basque….hahaha

'The frilliest hat was grabbed right away, by an overweight dry-stone dyker,

And the rainbow belts were snapped up then and there, by some hairy leather-clad bikers,

The vicar he shouted 'I'll have the bonnet, get in touch with my feminine side!"

And the man from the second-hand shop, he brought a mirror - they laughed so much that they cried'

After the dawn, cometh the light  Moody broody song. Hope, where is no hope. There is light, but I just can’t always find it. Damn vapes….bring back matches.

'Never been able, to say how I feel,

But this mess I'm in is, becoming unreal,

Tougher than leather, getting by with a grin

Gotta hide my emotions, keep it all in

It’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be alright,

Cos after the dawn, cometh the light'

Endlessly drifting .The clue is in the title. Guess I have spent a while drifting...and will continue to do so.

'Endlessly drifting from shore to shore, 

It would have been so nice, if he'd given a little more'

Motorbike riding Very racey little number. I want a motorbike! (The kids won’t let me). Maybe they will change their mind if I up the life insurance.

'Don't know why, I come by, feel like falling to the ground

Motorbiking, I'm liking, steer my big end right around'

On the run (Bonny and Clyde) Think foot stomping and banjo. Good girl hangs with bad boy. Oooh errr.

'Trouble maker, one risk-taker, modern day Bonny and Clyde,

When we ran off in that truck, we laughed so much we cried,

Guess we got away with it, crossed over the state line

He knows where the gold is hid, but he says that half is mine'

Goodbye song (for Ricky) Written for a great guy, another musician and the best acoustic guitarist in Aberdeen. Apart from Steve of course. He went away for a while, to be a dad…..we miss him at Musa café.

'Never the right time, to say goodbye

We all wish you well, as you go along your way

I'm singing for, those who live so free

Playing songs and writing words, that speak so easily'

Would you like to run away? I keep threatening to run away….but nobody takes any notice anymore...

It’s the same old story  Man’s going away. Woman is sad. I tell the man that the woman is sad. He doesn't go away after all.

Not giving up on you  Even when you push me so far away I nearly fall off the fucking earth (yes, it is flat) I will not give up on you. So there.

I come from the islands  Recorded onto Yorlum site with Steve’s own tune and lyrics, as he didn’t like mine that time. 

Footsteps Slow and haunting. A woman lies asleep, and hears the footsteps of her man going out  in the middle of the night...she's half asleep and half awake....she feels pain inside her heart but falls back to sleep….was she  just dreaming?

'Sometime later, a vixen calling, part of Nature, hear her scream

Waking me and, then I can't sleep, maybe it was, just a dream

I look around and, you are lying, like a baby, fast asleep,

Can't make out what, time it is from, the carriage clock on, the mantle piece.'

Mother's not well Too sensitive an issue to work on this right now….and was done on an out of tune mandolin, so may be impossible to recreate anyhow.

Smugglers Cove  Great story about smugglers over 200 years ago. Based on fact, but I adapted the facts to incorporate Downies village, near Portlethen, Aberdeenshire. Hard to sing at 200 words per minute….hell, was riding on a wave that day! 

Insanity The craziness of war. Our first psychedelic music blend. This one is sitting in the Yorlum site just now.

'Somewhere far, the protest cries

Evidence discarded, lies

Somewhere far, a mother cries,

Deep, in the vale of insanity'

Here I go again! Jazzy, schultzy, schmoozy blues. Sexual references. A mate from Stonehaven folk club played  clarinet alongside us on the last live performance of this one.

Someone light me a cigarette, please

This one’s gonna bring me to my knees, (rude!)

Oh no, no, no, no, here I go again!'

Ballad of Ed  Recorded as ‘Bar room blues’ by Steve at Yorlum. And a bluesier blues you will never hear. My lyrics are being considered, but 180 w.p.m. is hard to sing!  A new clarinet has appeared in the studio. We’ve both had a puff.

'So drive up to Virginia, you'll find an old shack

Two creaking chairs, on the porch at the back

Sometimes Jolene dances, in her pretty red shoes,

As old Ed's singing, the bar room blues.'

Girlpower  Written for my teenage girls. Fingers to the ex, girlfriends. Nuff said.

Brick Wall Unfinished. Because I hit a brick wall. No, really.

Shattered This song is from the woman’s perspective after I heard about a woman whose son unexpectedly died, aged 19. Drugs? His father owned a nightclub. I changed it to reflect any woman in the kitchen who gets bad news or is just plain weary. We've all had those 'dropping a plate’ moments, I guess.

'The plate slipped out my fingers

Onto the kitchen floor

Too tired to pick up pieces of the plate that is no more

The fragility of love, is what cuts me to the core

And I am shattered'.

Thinking ‘bout my baby ' and feeling blue. (He doesn't miss me, though)

Fly away, spread my wings  Took shelter in someone’s home for a winter. I was worried about the world. They showed me great kindness. Not ready to fly away, yet. But I will, one day

'You let me sleep upon your sofa,

And at night we watched the moon,

I drank wine, from a broken coffee cup

Shared your dinner with a spoon'

Planets Collide  This song is more than plate tectonics, and more forceful than a seismic event. This is a shifting paradigm. Psychadelic or what. David B, eat your heart out. Thanks to Omar for drum intro/phase out.

'I've crashed into, planet you,

You're intact, but I am shattered,

In outer space, where darkness reigns,

I will never be of any matter

My orbits skewed, and I am far away,

From planet Earth, from planet Earth,

I made it through the escape hatch,

But it's single berth, single berth'

Cold, cold town  Good old railroad blues. I am a tramp. And it really is cold here.

'Gotta keep on moving, along the winding road,

Gotta keep on singing, until my story's told

No explanation necessary, see it's all gone down

Can't remember how I ended up, living in this cold, cold town'

Medieval March After laughing with Steve about how bad Christmas songs are, yet incredibly they are played year after year on the radio, I sat down in the studio, honked the clarinet and banged a drum, and wrote some cheesy lyrics about a king. Steve said he wouldn't ever record this one as it's so bad. I said 'Exactly!’ (which is why it will probably be a Christmas hit, one day) ha ha ha

Ode to a poet   In memory of John Mackie, poet and peace activist, who died December 2016. On a personal note, he was very kind to me when I was battling with a beyatch of a problem, and stopped me feeling like dirt, when others in a small group in Aberdeen constructed an alternative narrative and openly humiliated me. It took me a year and a half to stand up to their main man in public, and say what I had to say. John drank wine with me one time, smuggled into St. Andrews cathedral by the percussionists at a peace concert! John and I were working on a spoken word project together, when he died. He had asked me on the phone 'What do you need, to come over and work on this?' and I replied 'Champagne, smoked salmon and a helicopter' at which he quipped that the first two were not a problem. I regret we never did have that brainstorm session. He had also asked me to join him on holiday for Christmas 2016, to work in a remote cottage on the west coast, and I had declined, because of stuff......but I wish I'd gone, tho.   

'If I brought to you a tall ship, would you sail across the ocean,

If I was drowning in the dark waves, would you throw to me a line

If I played to you my tune now, would you help me, using your words

If I handed you a blank canvass, would you paint it, would you have time?'

Thanks but no thanks  I watched a guy sweat with temptation over the girl singer of a band, over a period of months. He squirmed, but rejected her . Or that's what he says.... 

'Yes, you've got lovely hair,

And yes, you're sitting on my chair,

And no, I will not sit down on your knee.

It's clever how you play your song,

Get everyone to play along,

But you cannot pick me up, that easily'

Man against man Unusually, it is sung or chanted to a drumbeat only. Omar has kindly been over to the studio to record this on drums, so we will add stuff, when we get around to it.

'Man against man, and family against family,

Village against village and town against town,

City against city, and nation against nation,

All jump on the war machine, round and round'

Was it something I said?  Baffled.

'Was it something I said, that made you turn?

You walked away from me, I guess I'll live and learn.

No stopping now  Cynical look at guys who use women in bands, to get what they want. I know a guy who played bass til his fingers bled to impress a girl in a band...

'He likes the touch of something new, he'll gently show her what to do, oh how

No stopping now.

Soon as he gets her concert trained he won't even remember her name, oh how,

No stopping now.

Run for cover, hero soldier  Unadulterated, anti-war song. This time not quite so empathetic to ex-soldiers, as in Old Soldier (on our cd).

'Maybe when they decide, they will use the words of peace,

You will sleep - for the first time in your lifetime, be released

Until then, sorry man, your way and mine won't be aligned,

Until then, I ain't gonna give you, any of my time.'

Chicago Blues  (Recorded on phone when pissed - work in progress -  Jazz club  blues)

Soliloquy No words yet - work in progress

Dooo diddley dooo  No words yet - work in progress 

Chicken wire  Brains all in a muddle - hill billy banjo style. Conor!

''I have to jump over the field gate,

Coz I can't work out how to use the bolt,

My ball of string is tangled up in knots, and I 

Can't remember where I tethered up my goat'

What's the use of crying?  Note to self. Pull yersel’ together woman.

'The future lies before you, the past behind....

Pushing out the boat, into uncharted seas,

Let your hair down, feel the breeze,

Rolling up your jeans, wade out from the shore,

Don't look back there, anymore'

Don't wanna cause no trouble  Ever wonder what on earth you saw in someone? He’s welcome to her.

'Spose you thought I'd thank you,

For the credit cards you used,

All the sparkle that they bought, but I just felt abused

So take your fancy lady, far away to another place

Don't ever want you breathing in my face'

Dancing on the beach Hey, remember dancing on the beach, barefoot, when you were a kid?

'Put a shell in, to my pocket, to remember, happy days,

Cast away the, weights I carry, and return to, yesterday.'

Feeling the rhythm of the beating drum (Omar)  Chant - enhanced by Omar playing drums etc. on a ghost recording.

'Feeling the rhythm of the beating drum

The weak amongst us shall be strong

We'll lift each other and we'll carry on

Feeling the rhythm of the beating drum.'

(Shite - I have lost the verse lyrics - but will write them again and sing along to the recording. Thanks to Omar for spending another evening with us)

Oldmeldrum folk club  A folk song to celebrate good old local folk clubs, and the mixed bunch of folk who attend, including us. A song I am happy to have bandied about, with no restriction.

'I cannae wait to see some familiar faces,

And we'll come down to Oldmeldrum folk club again

For we know it doesn't matter where you are from

The best whiskey is made from mixed grain.'

It's all gone down   I admit I am a moody musician. Some of us creative types get very low, sometimes. It comes with the territory. Anything in E minor is good. Labelling me as bi-polar would be an insult. I have many moods during the course of one single day, and prefer multi-polar! That's plobbly why I can write many different kinds of songs.

'Chasing away the shadows from my mind

Chasing away the bitter memories I've left behind

What is there left to say?

You can't hear me anyway,

I tired to speak

I walk the empty streets, 

It's all gone down'

Better keep quiet, if you know what I mean  Known as the parapet song. A suggestion that women that speak their minds publicly will not be received well, by men. Especially scientists. Most of which are men. This is also a little laugh at how environmental scientists make us recycle rubbish (environmental science appears to be the new religion) whilst manufacturing arms that kill and maim people en masse. They also take most university  research funding , citing 'sustainability' for full emotional effect to appease the women/vegetarians, while sociologists have no funding for peace processes research, and the wars carry on.......but don't get me started. That would be a whole musical for what’s his name five wives phantom face......hahaha

'Stick your head above the parapet,

I'll watch as they shoot you down, down

Better keep quiet if you know what I mean

'Til your time comes around, round.

The Unicorn Update Fantasy tale made up after seeing some of Mike's extraordinary art, one Sunday afternoon. (Mike - you are one of the few lucky people weird enough to be mentioned on this site)

Now up to around 100 songs.....need more time for this admin stuff, I guess.