WALK-OUT SHOES

Some days are doomed from the start
When the birds don’t tweet for your loving sweetheart
Her cornflakes won’t crackle and pop
When she wakes up as blue as a weeping teardrop
She says, “No really, we’re fine
Just need some quality time”
I can read her like a book
She’s wearing that Walk-Out Look.

So I’m thinking, “What can I do
To lighten her day, to brighten her mood?
To prevent her from going astray
To the land of love where love doesn’t stay?”
She says, “No really we’re fine
Just need some quality time
I’ll be back in a while”
But she’s wearing that Walk-Out Smile.

Some days go by
You don’t even notice
The look on her face
You don’t ever see
You spend your time
With your eyes on the good things
But the best thing in life
Is going unseen.

“Goodbye” is an emotive word
It causes such sorrow whenever it’s heard
How will she do it then, how will she abandon my heart
When she wakes up as blue as a weeping teardrop?
She’ll say, “No really we’re fine
Just need some quality time”
I’m thinking, “What’s the use?
She’s wearing those Walk-Out Shoes
Those Walk-Out Shoes”

© The Fishpie Sky 2017

GOING OUT TO THE BELGIAN COAST

It’s a fine fine time for thinking
It’s a fine place to compose
There are few upon this ferry
Going out to the Belgian coast
This trade is slow December time
My family sit alone
And each of them is sleeping
As the iron girders grown

I haven’t seen her since she married
To an Eindhoven boy
And I can’t help remembering
With tears and joy
But it gets me wondering
Will it run
Like father, like son?

My father must be dreaming back
To his sisters and his home
And he left that southern city
Made an English girl his own
He was settled down at 31
Just now it seems to me
There is much the same between us
As this boat rocks through the sea

Once I knew a spirit daughter
She wore rare gowns of gem
I haven’t seen that spirit
Any year since then
So it gets me wondering
Will love run
Like father, like son?

The gulls are still behind us
They’re up drifting in the wind
Waiting for a stranger
To throw them something in
And should we talk of past and future
And I’m anxious what to say
With chances to be taken
We each make our own way

Once I knew a spirit daughter
She wore rare gowns of gem
I haven’t seen that spirit
Any year since then
So it gets me wondering,
Will love run
Like father, like son?
Like father, like son.

© The Fishpie Sky 2017

RED SHIRTS WHITE SLEEVES

It’s a Saturday
He walks up the Holloway Road
Got a ticket in his hand
The latest Arsecast on his phone
In the pit of his stomach
In the heart of this man
The eternal hope
Of a football fan.

Taken to his very first game
By his dad and his Uncle Bert
Standing by the hot dog van
Mustard was smothered all over his shirt
He loved the pictures in the programme
And the kit George Eastham wore
That’s how it all began
For this Arsenal man.

Red Shirts, White Sleeves
They’re my colours
That’s my team
We will follow our dreams wearing
Red Shirts, White Sleeves

Now one thing’s for sure
Nothing comes guaranteed
He knows that chasing the dream
Can put a man down to his knees
But he chases anyway
Though they’ve won many things before
Gonna keep on chasing
Until they win some more.

You gotta understand
You’ve gotta do all you can
You’ve got give a damn
Are you listening Stan?
You gotta understand
You’ve gotta do all you can
You’ve got give a damn
To be an Arsenal man

Red Shirts, White Sleeves
They’re my colours
That’s my team
We will follow our dreams wearing
Red Shirts, White Sleeves

It’s a Saturday
He walks up the tunnel once more
Its for the very last time
As other heroes have done before
With his head held high
The crowd will all rise
To appreciate
This Arsenal Great.

Red Shirts, White Sleeves
They’re my colours
That’s my team
We will follow our dreams wearing
Red Shirts, White Sleeves.

© The Fishpie Sky 2017

AU REVOIR MY FRIEND

Au revoir my friend
Au revoir my friend
Au revoir my friend
My friend, Arsene.

“Arsene Who?”
Ran the headline in the news
But no-one knew
He was about to light the fuse
He brought a brand new
Philosophy
The kind of football
The Gods would pay to see
The kind of football they came to call
‘Wengerball’

For creating football jazz
Football regarded as
The most beautiful and true
Arsene, thank you.
For titles won with a smile
For Doubles won in style
Here’s a Gooner’s gratitude
Arsene, thank you.

Arsene, you
You made my football dreams come true
Yeah, it’s you
That I owe those moments to
And then a miracle
The season came
In which we did not lose
A single game
The greatest Champions of them all
Invincible!

So for ‘Ralph’, Kolo and Sol
And yes, even for Ashley Cole
For the German madman, Jens
Thank you, Arsene
For Gilberto and Freddie
For Vierra and Henry
For Pires and Dennis too
Arsene, thank you.

Arsene knew
There was still so much to do
And he stayed true
So that we could see it through
To build a brand new stadium
Built for the future
Greater glories still to come
And in the meantime
Each season long
He battled on.

For the Champions League runs
The most FA Cups ever won
For those ‘4th place trophies’ too
Arsene, thank you
For your undying loyalty
For caring as much as me
For fighting right to the end
Thank you, my friend.

Au revoir my friend
Au revoir my friend
Au revoir Arsene
Arsene, my friend.

© The Fishpie Sky 2018