I want to be with you again

D / Am / C / D

Do you remember the night that we huddled,
Out in the wind and the rain?
You doused me with passionate kisses,
And I want to go back there again.
Do you remember the night we went shopping,
How we wandered through all those back lanes
We joked and we laughed at each other
I just want to do that again.

Dinners and chats in new places,
Our lips became stained with the wine
You laughing loud in the corner
I secretly hoped you'd be mine.
I remember the dizziest feeling
As love grew and bloomed in my mind
Letters and calls at strange hours
Two lives estranged yet entwined.

CH
  Now It's truth over double shot lattes,
 As we both try to explain.
 You gaze like steel out the window,
 When I say how I want you again.
 The tears they roll down to my shoulder,
 And I can feel nothing but pain,
 As you turn to me slowly and tell me,
 You don't want to see me again.

I remember you under the she-oaks,
I totally failed to abstain.
The sand and the spray it blew 'cross us,
And I can't help but want to again.
I remember the glow of the fire,
As it danced on your beautiful frame.
I thought my self rightly in heaven
As I kissed you again and again.

CH:

As I walk alone down this alley,
Into the wind and the rain,
I already miss you to Hades,
And want to see you again.
Please remember the times that we laughed 'till we cried,
Remember the kiss in the rain.
Remember I love you my darling,
Though I can never be with you again.

CH:

  Remember me ever my darling,
  Remember and the kiss in the rain,
  And never forget that I loved you,
  And I want to be with you again.

I'm Gonna Fall

Evening has snuck around again, just like yesterday.
The beer upon the table is the last, before I'm on my way.
The last sun through the window, has set this place aglow,
I'm loitering I guess but nothing waits for me at home
And if I go back there I'll end up drinkin' all alone
I shouldn't stay in bonny Brunswick, but I've nowhere else to go.

I'm sitting by the window lookin' down from the post office cafe.
Some lovers on the table down below, shyly swirling their lattes.
Is there somewhere I should settle, is there somewhere else to go
There are pubs and there are people all down Sydney Road
But without you it seems empty so I'd better blow
I can't stay in bonny Brunswick, but I've nowhere else to go.

  And the orange light of evenin' it creeps sad across the floor
  The number nineteen passes as a shadow on the wall
  You're not there to hold me, you're not answering my calls
  I'm gonna fall...  I'm gonna fall.

The fingers of the looming night are stretching to the west
The factories and chimneys all outlined, and pink in silhouette
The bloke outside the Taberet tips his dregs into the road
Then heads in for another, at machines aligned in rows.
The flashing screens and neons briefly numb the sunsets glow
I fear I see my future in his eyes they are sunken and kept low.


  And the orange light of evenin' it creeps sad across the floor
  The number nineteen passes as a shadow on the wall
  You're not there to hold me, you're not answering my calls
  I'm gonna fall... 

  And last night was a long one as I wept myself to sleep,
  Dreamed briefly that we'd danced the night away at The Retreat.
  But again I woke to find myself alone and sunken deep.
  I'm gonna fall...   I'm gonna fall
  I'm gonna fall......

(c) Dave Wolfe, Sep 6, 2009

I Don't Want to Go Down by the Sea

I don't want to go down by the sea no more,
Don't care to go down by the sea.
I don't want to play by the plashing shore,
With anyone lesser than thee.

I don't want to walk by the strand no more,
Don't care to walk by the strand.
I don't want to bask in the sunset's glow,
Without your hand in my hand.

I don't want to stroll by the quay no more,
Don't care to stroll by the quay.
Nor huddle together in chill evening winds,
With anyone other than thee.

I'll go back to the trees I shall,
I have to go back to the trees.
Far from the memory of days that we spent,
And safe from the memory of thee.

Perhaps you'll come up to the trees some day
Mayhap you'll come to the trees.
Then we can relive the times that we shared,
When we went down by the sea.

D.W.  Aug 31 / 2009

King and Country

[Just a tiny homage to a childhood hero, that pesky ol' Ewan MacColl]


Come to me, my dark eyed queen.
Come to me, my Bonnie-oh.
And will you come at the set of the sun,
To lie down with your Tommy-oh.

For at sunrise I must cross the main,
To serve my King and my country-oh.
And so I'm off with steel and shot,
To fight with Turkish Johnny-oh.

CH:   Tom don't run, to carry no gun,
      If you truly love your Bonnie-oh.
      Lest you lie 'neath foreign skies,
      With all your brother Tommy-ohs.

She cried I'll come and at your side,
I'll fight for our King and our country-oh.
With me hair all done, I can carry a gun,
And follow with my Tommy-oh.

Alas my love, you can not come,
To be there with your Tommy-oh.
But when war is done, and I home-come,
It's then that we will marry-oh.

CH: (+ break)

But Johnny Turk, he stood there firm,
He served his king and country-oh.
And a Mauser shell shot me straight to hell,
With all the fallen Tommy-ohs.

So I will ne'er return again,
To lay down with my Bonnie-oh.
I fell and I died 'neath Turkish skies,
A'servin King and country-oh.

(build into CH variation:)
      We told you Tom, to carry no gun,
      If you truly loved your Bonnie-oh.
      And now you lie 'neath their Turkish skies,
      With all us other Tommy-ohs.

      We told you Tom, to carry no gun,
      If you truly loved your Bonnie-oh.
      And now she cries 'neath our English skies,
      With all our other Bonnie-ohs.

(repeat CH riff or just flay Am to death)
(Instr outro)

Verse:
Am Am G G
Am Am C E
Am Am G Em
Am G Am/G Am

Chorus:
C C C C
Am Am Am E
Am Am G Em
Am Am/G Am

Break:
C C Am Am
F G Am  Am
F G Am

Sally-O

I chanced upon a fine evenin' to stray
Watched the sun set over Port Phillip Bay
It passed o'er the You Yangs and into Geelong
A happy old drunk he was singing this song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Shea
     Finest French laces and pretty bouquets
     The pain in your pocket, you'll feel for some days
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Shea

Drunk along Carlise the very next meal
Keen for a dance... a jig or a reel
They kicked me off from the tram at Orrong
I heard the conductor a'singin' this song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Neill
     Heavy on riggin' and light in the keel
     But the next day, oh the rash you will feel
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Neill

Down in the land of the Collars and Cuffs,
King Street was full of the usual toughs.
I looked right a part of the mischievous throng,
And we all started a'singin' this song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Duff,
     Worth a small fortune; in rum and in snuff,
     One night with her was more than enough,
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Duff.

Back at the local, I've got me own stool,
I bought me a pint of the regular fuel.
I knew that I'd been there an hour too long,
The barman he sung a familiar song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Toole,
     Proper ol' madam... of the ol' school,
     Pretty at evening, come dawn she's a mule,
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Toole.

On the town all the evenin' I thought I'd retire,
So for a taxi I went to enquire.
The driver he drove me a route far too long,
As he was driving, he shared an old song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Dwyer,
     Face like and angel and voice like a choir,
     But you wake up with John Thomases fire,
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Dwyer
 
I told the copper like I told the clerk,
I'm all out of money, and I'm all out of work.
He just clicked the keys in the lock and was gone,
I swear as he left he was singing this song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Rourke
     Face like a mountain of old spat-out corks
     But for a few dollars, the girl goes beserk (bezoik?)
     Won't empty your pockets that Sally O'Rourke

Back by the docks with the seagulls and brine
Watching the flow of the Port Phillip tide
A bloke on the wharf he was casting all wrong,
Happily fished while he gave out a song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Brien
     Hair it was flaxen, her eyes they did shine
     But for her you just might 'go away' for a time,
     You'd rue the day you met Sally O'Brien

Though the sea's calling, her song I will spurn,
I've heard many songs and I've tried hard to learn.
And I'll find me a girl; braw, bonny and strong
I'll grab her trim waist and I'll sing one last song;

     Sally-oh, Sally-oh, Sally O'Byrne
     Sharp in the bow, and quite broad in the stern
     Give her some gip and you'll feel the return
     But I'll spend my days with that Sally O'Byrne
     I'll spend my days with ol' Sally O'Byrne

(c) Dave Wolfe, 2009

Goodbye Sydney

This bus is belting southward and we're Melbourne bound,
We'll all be laughing when we get home to that town.
The tyres they are screaming and the guideposts whipping by,
We're grabbing burgers at the servos as we go...
Goodbye Danni and the Irishmen at Glebe,
Thanks for the beer, the songs, the stories, and the weed.
We hope the studies and the travels go to plan,
As we tip our hats to good old Sydney town.

    So goodbye Sydney, and fare-thee-well,
    Bustling King street and all of her hotels.
    Goodbye Sydney, fare-thee-well,
    We'll be back before too long, fr'nother spell

I liked to spot the cracks upon her walls,
And the faded paint and signwork said it all.
It maybe hurt the grandeur andfacade,
But to me it just revealed she's got a heart.
The old city I despised in former days,
Has seduced me with her summer morning haze
And I'll miss her and that leaning Glebe hostel,
So I tip me hat and bid you fare-thee-well.

    So goodbye Sydney, and fare-thee-well,
    Bustling King street and all the weird hotels.
    Goodbye Sydney, fare-thee-well,
    We'll be back before too long, fr'nother spell.

Back in Melbourne's cold embracing arms,
I recall that day in Glebe beneath the palm.
And the houses leaning to Blackwattle Bay,
The tenements were grand back in their day.
When we turned the bus down Parramatta road,
The Harbour City smiled and waved a cheerio.
As did the push outside the Allandale Hotel,
They tipped thier hats and cried out fare-thee-well.

    So goodbye Sydney, and fare-thee-well,
    Bustling King street and all those queer hotels.
    Goodbye Sydney, fare-thee-well,
    We'll be back before too long, fr'nother spell.
    (repeat)
     ...though only for a spell
     ...we dig Melbourne far too well

words and music by Dave Wolfe, 2008

Only Talkin'

A hotel bar in Mallacoota, I met a girl her name was Rita,
Servin' drinks across the bar, sparklin' eyes just like garnet.
She knocked off and sat a while, sipped her coloured drink and smiled,
Told me of this lonely place, since her boyfriend took the coast.

I told her of my distant wife, of my troubled, happy life.
She asked me questions saved for strangers, as if she thought they had the answers.
She told me of her distant lover, just how much they missed each other,
Garnet shining strong and true, full of honest happy youth.

     Though we we're only talkin',
     The whole damn room was gawkin',
     I guess they couldn't see,
     She was company for me.

A drunk came through the tables stumblin', collared me and muttered something,
I guess he didn't like the way, that I talked to her that day.
He told me not to chat her up, I couldn't help myself and laughed,
He copped me with a warning nudge, but I'll talk to who the hell I want.

     And we we're only talkin',
     Seemed half the town was gawkin',
     I guess they couldn't see,
     She was far too young for me.

(break)

I drank too much, the night grew long, I guess that I wore out me welcome,
So I staggered from that place, at a merry drunken pace.
I couldn't shake the thought of her, and all those other cold death stares.
I left that crazy bar behind with garnet etched upon my mind.

     'Cos we we're only talkin',
     The whole damn room was gawkin',
     I guess they couldn't see,
     She was lonely just like me.

     Can't they see we're only talkin',
     Ah, let 'em keep on gawkin',
     I guess they'll never see,
     She was comforting to me.

Hotel bar...  Mallacoota...  met a girl...  name was Rita,
Servin' drinks across the bar, sparklin' eyes just like garnet.
She knocked off and sat a while, sipped her coloured drink and smiled,
Told me 'bout the boy she loved, even though he took the coast.

[He'd gone workin' up the coast]
[I guess she followed up the coast]

pathetic words & music, David Wolfe, 2008

THE GIRL WITH A BAND IN HER HAIR

(I)
'Twas down there in Brunswick, I met a maid rare,
When springtime and jasmine they hung in the air,
And before too long I had let myself care,
For a girl with a band in her hair, in her hair, a girl with the band in her hair.

(I)
Dinner with sun setting over the bay.
Strolls by the water right down to the quay.
Her warm hand on mine, so soft and so fair,
The beautiful girl with the band in her hair, the girl with the band in her hair.

(II)
The night-times we frittered away to the dawn.
The sound of her laugh as we frolicked and fawned.
Still I look back on those times that we shared,
And I miss the girl with the band in her hair, the girl with the band in her hair

(I)
A rose in the morning, a kiss over wine,
And somehow I managed to make the girl mine,
And then I happened to let myself dare;
And I fell for that girl with the band in her hair, the girl with the band in her hair.

(I)
I couldn't contain what I'd nurtured inside,
My heart surged forw'd like the rush of the tide,
And pushed her from me so now I despair,
'cause I lost the girl with the band in her hair, the girl with the band in her hair

(II)
As winter to summer eventually comes,
I lost her into some other man's arms.
Now looking back on the times that we shared,
I miss the girl with the band in her hair, the girl with the band in her hair
(reprise first verse)

CHORDS:
(I)
G G C D
G G C C
G G Em D
G D G - C // G D G->

(II)
C G D Em
C D G G
C D G Em
G D G - C // G D G->

(C) Dave Wolfe, September-October, 2009

Back to Borroloola

Another of me Dad's poems.  I put it to some music and added a verse and tinkered with it ever so slightly...  I reckon he wouldn't mind too much.

Back to Borroloola
John and Dave Wolfe

Well I've been aboard your tramcars and I've been aboard your trains.
A thousand folk have jostled me in crowded city lanes.
I've knocked around your cities and I've seen 'most everything.
And I'm going back to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

I've sweated cutting fencing posts and battled for a crust,
I scratched and dug for opals in the Coober Pedy dust.
But now I'm headed northward like a brolga on the wing,
Going back to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

My car is old and battered as we head toward the sun,
There isn't any number plate and the registration's run.
But I guess we'll have to chance it, and we'll wire the broken spring,
When we get to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

I've worked up in the timber land, Ive knocked around the mills,
I've chased the wooley jumbuks through the scrubby southern hills.
Me old dog rides the mud guard where he's tied on with a string,
Going back to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

I've planted pines through Gippsland that have choked a hundred creeks,
Been chased by fire and black snake 'cross the rugged southern peaks.
Hauled a load of tourists outback on a bus for Billy king,
Never showed them Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

My car is old and battered as we head toward the sun,
The fuel guage sits on empty and the radiator's bunged.
But I guess we'll have to chance it, and ignore the engine ping,
'Til we get to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

I've met men in high places who could tell a thousand lies,
I've met the poorest battler and the truth shone in their eyes.
To me a man is just a man though battler or a king,
Or up in Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

My car is old and battered as we head toward the sun,
There isn't any number plate and the registration's run.
But I guess we'll have to chance it, and we'll wire the broken spring,
When we get to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings;
Or halfway back to Borroloola where the Boori-Boori sings.

(Boori-Boori is the Garawa word for a small native honeyeater that sings at dawn)