Retrospect

Forever and Ever

John works in computers, Rod’s in consultancy
Tony’s with a multinational oil company
Simon he’s an ad man, but when we meet at John’s
We all take off our red glasses and we really get it on

Ageing Hippies, stop messing around
Take your suits off, and let your pony tails down
Ageing Hippies, you’re slipping too far
Forget the mortgage and pick up your guitars

The band reunion starts off at a quarter to eight
We check who’s thinnest on the top and thickest round the waist
The women leave the sinking ship as if at some command
They don’t mind the bad behaviour, it’s the music they can’t stand

John can’t play a boogie, Tony can’t keep time
Rod’s synthesizer plays itself, Simon can’t remember his lines
But we find a riff and play it till the early hours of morn
And then we have a bowl of soup and watch a little porn

Ageing Hippies, stop messing around
Take your suits off, and let your pony tails down
Ageing Hippies, you’re slipping too far
Forget the mortgage and pick up your guitars

Ageing Hippies, stop messing around
Take your suits off, and let your pony tails down
Ageing Hippies, you’re slipping too far
Are you ready to pick up your guitars?

Written by Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, keyboard (pads).
Simon Burrett: vocals, keyboard (bass), electric guitar.

Down in some lonesome valley
In some silent place
Well I’d dream of nothing better
Than to be with my sweet
She says she won’t have me
So that I understand
She wants a rich merchant
And I have no land

But if I were a scholar
And could write a fine hand
Well I’d write my love a letter
So that she’d understand
I’d write it by the river
Where the sweet waters flow
And I’ll dream of Pretty Saro
Wherever I go

Traditional, arranged by Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, acoustic guitars.
Caro Clark: vocals.
John Clark: bass.

He reads the bible every night
His cockney vowels are a delight
Golden ringed and clothing loud
Shadow boxing for the crowd
Thrills them with his wit

He's the once and future king
David sent out with his sling
The one who syndicates his pain
Who dies and is reborn again
In any face that fits

Figures shamble through his dreams
With double vision, ruptured spleens
Broken fingers, broken schemes
Broken men with bleeding brains
Who don't know when to quit

In the dressing room he waits
And tries to summon up some hate
Hardly hears the trainer's words
As like two tearing, screaming birds
They're thrown into the pit

The canvas leaps and hits again
Crimson shock waves, pain on pain
Swollen faces oozing gore
On his gloves and on the floor
Mingling with the spit

Now the old king's on his back
Backbone arched and pupils black
Now at last he can atone
For every hurt they've ever known
Now he can pay for it

The new king gives a last salute
His face a bruised and punctured fruit
The crowd cheers as he lifts his hands
I guess I'll never understand
How they can idolize a man
Whose job it is to hit.

Written by: Tony Doré
Tony Doré: vocals, bazouki, electric guitar, keyboard (vibes).
John Clark: bass.

Shall we slice the cake between between us?
Shall we battle for our turn?
Shall we turn up the CD
While we watch the city burn?

And play the zero sum game everybody
My gain is a loss for somebody
Carry on, carry on , carry on
And if that is what you want
Turn on each other when you go to the wall
Divided you stand so discarded you fall
Well if that is the God that you serve
You get what you deserve

Advertise a better future
Advertise for better health
You just adjust the image
And watch reality take care of itself

And play the zero sum game everybody
My gain is a loss for somebody
Carry on, carry on , carry on
And if that is what you want
Turn on each other when you go to the wall
Divided you stand so discarded you fall
Well if that is the God that you serve
You get what you deserve

Is greed a law of nature?
Is it magic or divine?
Will selfishness become good
Like water into wine?
Do you believe in progress
For better or for worse?
Will the bubble keep expanding
Or will it burst?

And play the zero sum game everybody
My gain is a loss for somebody
Carry on, carry on , carry on
And if that is what you want
Are you Pavlov’s dogs, are you Skinner’s pigeon too?
Will you jump for each crumb that they offer to you?
Well if that is the God that you serve
You get what you deserve.

Written by Tony Doré & Rod Jones.
Tony Doré: vocals, keyboard, percussion.
Rod Jones: keyboard, readings from Studio Sound.
Simon Burrett: vocals, electric guitar.
John Clark: bass.

The household is warm and well ordered
The fire has stopped in mid-flame
A man is asleep in the armchair
The TV is locked in freeze-frame
A woman stands out in the kitchen
The rings on the cooker glow red
The children are up in the bedroom
The cat is curled up on the bed
This is the dream that I walked in
Suspended in time

Outside the smoke from the chimney
Hangs like a wraith in the air
And only a metre above it
The fuselage is hanging there
The mid-section broken and gaping
The stubs where the wings took their flight
Some figures with seatbelts still tightened
Aglow in the ghostly street light
This is the dream that I walked in
Suspended in time

This is the dream that I walked in
An instant suspended in time
And I went like a spectre among them
Checked none of their faces were mine
Then I started and woke in my armchair
My dinner was cold on the tray
On the TV the news was just starting
And fate one statistic away
And I know I’m still dreaming
Suspended in time

Written by Tony Doré
Tony Doré: vocals, keyboard, percussion.
Simon Burrett: vocals, electric guitar.
John Clark: bass.

Plain Jane, say it one more time
Let me hear your love
Plain Jane, you caught me in my prime
Let me hear your love

It's no good thinking that everybody's thinking
That you're tied up inside
So get revealing the things that you are feeling
Succour to my pride
Succour to my pride

Ooh let me hear your love
Ooh let me hear your love

Plain Jane, we get along just fine
Let me hear your love
Plain Jane, everybody knows you're mine
Let me hear your love

Do you imagine that everybody's having
A ball out there tonight
Don't want to damage my cultivated image, now
Let's get this act right
Let's get this act right

Ooh let me hear your love
Ooh let me hear your love

Written by Tony Doré & Simon Burrett.
Tony Doré: vocals, acoustic guitar, keyboard.
Simon Burrett: vocals, keyboard.
John Clark: bass.

Driving through the intersection in the rain
Cardboard boxes on an empty plain
Faded billboards swaying in the wind
See the nodding donkeys broken down
Scattered like weeds on the stony ground
You've come to the place where life runs thin
Where life runs thin

Here among the clustered towers of glass
Tombstones rising from a field of ash
Ayn Rand's paradise beckons you in
Vacant lots in the noonday sun
The freeway a desert where you see no-one
And nothing breaks the spell where life runs thin
Where life runs thin

Some bits of paper in a broker's tray
In a city half a world away
Sucked you dry and left no life within
Made a desert of your community
Here in the land of opportunity
But nothing shakes your faith where life runs thin

I wish the world would leave me alone
I've got enough troubles of my own
It's every man for himself, sink or swim
We're all drowning in that same old sea
'Cause there's just one way, one philosophy
And it leads you to the place where life runs thin
Where life runs thin.

Written by Tony Doré
Tony Doré: vocals, acoustic guitar, keyboard.
Simon Burrett: vocals, electric guitar, keyboard (bass).

It's a lesson too late for the learning
It's just too late to find where we went wrong
Now there's really only just eight notes to an octave
And we just keep churning out the same old song

'Cause you go so gladly into that dark night
Smile and say there's really not much time
I don't know if you're dead, or just resigned
But if you need it, throw down a line

Now when I see you I'm ashamed to be human
Your skull may be swollen but you're less than a fucking ape
Don't come to me with your platitudes and epigrams
Don't give me crap about man's high estate

'Cause you go so gladly into that dark night
Smile and say there's really not much time
I don't know if you're dead, or just resigned
But if you need it, throw down a line

Yes you taught me how a person should behave
You made me eat raw meat and go back to the caves
You taught me it's better to be guilty than be kind
Your legacy is with me all the time

'Cause you go so gladly into that dark night
Smile and say there's really not much time
I don't know if you're dead, or just resigned
But if you need it, throw down a line

Written by: Tony Doré.
Tony: vocals, acoustic guitar, keyboard.
Simon Burrett: electric guitar.
Caroline Clark: vocals.
Jonny Owen: vocals, harmonica.
Rod Jones: keyboard.
John Clark: bass.

Somewhere, out across the sea
There's a place where I would be
Where sky met sea, where sea met land
Where you and I walked hand in hand

And this feeling comes upon me
When I think about it still
So hold me, lead me to the hill
With cinquefoil and tormentil

Bright streams from the snows above
Where I first lived with my love
Yellow sun lighting up the west
Where my two children first drew their breath

And this feeling comes upon me
And it takes an act of will
To hold me, further from the hill
With cinquefoil and tormentil

Ferry boats out upon the sea
Making lines to infinity
Birds wheel in the scented air
Though far away, my heart beats there

When this feeling comes upon me
My cup is overflowing still
So hold me, lead me to the hill
With cinquefoil and tormentil

Written by: Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, bazouki, acoustic guitar, keyboard.
Simon Burrett: electric guitars.
Rod Jones: keyboard.
John Clark: bass.

His spirit walks these shores
The more layers he strips away
The more the mystery shows through
Looking out from the shores of Cromarty
Searching for a soul

And the sands turned smooth as the tide lapped the shore
Did it wash away the footprints of the creator?
The starry dome and the mountain core
To all these things, farewell
Sun and moon and Kingdom Come, all is one
To Hugh Miller's gun

A fearful dream now rises on me
May the Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon me
My brain burns as the recollection grows
My dear, dear wife farewell
Life and death and Kingdom Come, all is one
To Hugh Miller's gun

And still his soul's abroad
He'll look out upon the shore
Till the miracle's restored
And he knows that the testimony's there
Written out in stone

And the gunsmith picked up
Hugh Miller's gun
He looked down the barrel and he saw oblivion
And you who stare through your eyepiece now
You glimpse these truths as well
Life and death and Kingdom Come, all is one
To Hugh Miller's gun

Written by: Tony Doré & Rod Jones.
Tony Doré: vocals, keyboard, percussion.
Simon Burrett: vocals, electric guitar, percussion.
Rod Jones: keyboard, drum & sequence programming.
John Clark: bass.

There were a few and you were one
Who bore his double standard along
Who gathered round him in the night
Like moths around a light
Told him what he did was right
To stick beside him to the end
Be both a cuckold and a friend
That was the trend

But in the end just you remained
Paying homage to his pain
And though not one of them was real
You knew his wounds would never heal
Everybody knew the deal
And when he told you he would die
You let him believe in his own lie
Don't ask me why

'Cause now the hole in your heart has healed over
And nobody wants to know an ailing Casanova
Because it's getting nowhere
And now you know he didn't want to recover
He needed a nurse and an uncomplaining lover
A drip feed to his ego and a lifetime of intensive care

And oh the heart that beat so true
Was just a valve his life passed though
But with the pulse no longer strong
And the circulation gone
Must the body linger on?
Turn off the life support machine
And leave him to his private dreams
Behind the screens

'Cause now the hole in your heart has healed over
And nobody wants to know an ailing Casanova
Because it's getting nowhere
And now you know he didn't want to recover
He needed a nurse and an uncomplaining lover
A drip feed to his ego and a lifetime of intensive care

Written by: Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, electric guitar, keyboard.
John Clark: bass.

Now a dog lies in the gravel
Where the roadway should have been
And a broken down old neon sign
Illuminates the scene
Where paranoia scars the cities
And famine rules the land
And through it all walks a man in black
With a flashlight in his hand

Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?
Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?

Now the picture fades to a shoreline
Beside a rolling sea
Where poncho-clad guitarists
Train their eyes on eternity
And shades disguise the others
With the shotguns in their hands
And the whole scene crumbles down into dust
And their bones lie in the sand

Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?
Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?

What you gonna do about us?
What you gonna do about us?
We’re the ones you’ll never ever be able
We’re the ones you’ll never ever be able
To trust

Now when all the streets they are empty
And all the colour’s gone
And everything we accidentally thought
Submits to Farenheit 451
And when all our moves they are pre-ordained
And all our hope has died
And all our brains, they are locked in chains
Maybe then you’ll be satisfied

Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?
Ton Ton Macoutes, Ton Ton Macoutes
Is there any end to you?

Written by Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, acoustic guitar, electric guitar.
Caro Clark: vocals; John: bass; Simon: electric guitar.
Rod Jones: keyboard; Jonny Owen: vocals, harmonica.

Washed up, pockets bare
No future, going nowhere
Each day goes by the same
You want a job so bad it hurts
But everyday they drag you in the dirt
While papers tell you it's really you to blame

Worker's Playtime, it's a holiday
Worker's Playtime, each and every day
The World was your oyster
But now the street's your prison

They tell you you should be content
If you can manage to pay the rent
They tell you that it's best for all
That the lame ducks should go to the wall

So once a week from the end of school
Down town to join the queue
Faces leer as you stand against the wall
They sneer and they call you scum
They might as well be blind, deaf and dumb
For all they know where next time the axe may fall

Worker's Playtime, it's a holiday
Worker's Playtime, each and every day
The World was your oyster
But now the street's your prison

Hey you behind the glass
Don't I know you from my past
Well I suppose there's nothing to say
You might as well be a million miles away

Nothing to say and nothing to do
And no money to do it with too
How much can one man stand?
No helping hand to lend
Not a smile from your oldest friend
'Cause divide and rule is the law of the land

Worker's Playtime, it's a holiday
Worker's Playtime, each and every day
The World was your oyster
But now the street's your prison

Written by: Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bazouki.
Simon Burrett: vocals.
Rod Jones: keyboard, vocals.
John Clark: bass.

A song is like a fusion bomb
A nucleus of form and line
An unbalanced equation of rhyme
From why the lovely power comes

Not power that seeks to meet an end
Not power to do, or have, or say
But power naked as the day
That fills you like a spectral friend

And you’re going to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
You’re going to feel it now
And you’re going to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
You’re going to feel the power

And it’s this power will sustain you
When you stand amongst the shells
Of shattered faiths, the fettered hells
That never could contain you

For life still flickers in the flames
All else is futile as you play
Your final chord, it dies away
But sounds of laughter still remain

And you’re going to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
Filling all your mind
And you’re going to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
Filling all the void
And I want to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
I want to feel it now
And I want to feel it
Forever and ever, forever and ever
I want to feel the power

Written by: Tony Doré.
Tony Doré: vocals, electric guitar.
Caro Clark: vocals.
John Clark: bass.
Simon Burrett: vocals, electric guitar.
Julie Doré: vocals.

Retrospect on CD-R
Forever and Ever

(2001) Self-released.