Simple Days

by Mike Cavanagh

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1.
Rain on the windows Wind through the trees Got the two bar heater on And the cat for company. Days are so short now Winter’s settled in I don’t think about you Don’t know where to begin. Got a 12 bar blues Running through my head Keeping time with the tin pots Catching raindrops on the bed. Pour myself another drink Light another cigarette Swear to give them up again Seven days a week. Can’t say I’m broken hearted Not howling at the moon Just in this place Where I see your face Midnight through to noon. Could pull myself together Anytime I wanted to. No big deal, no scars to heal; Just one more drink, or two. Junk mail piled around me It’s all I seem to read I think I might have sent off for Reader’s Digest magazines. I should have listened to you You were right all along I’m better off without you… How could both of us be wrong? Rain on the windows Wind through the trees Got the two bar heater on And the cat for company. Days are so short now Winter’s settled in I don’t think about you Don’t know where to begin. Can’t say I’m broken hearted Not howling at the moon Just in this place Where I see your face Midnight through to noon. Could pull myself together Anytime I wanted to. No big deal, no scars to heal; Just one more drink, or two.
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Kings Cross 04:02
KINGS CROSS (I was) lost in the winter of ’79, Staring at the streetlights, as I waited to cross. Wind whipped down William Street, shredding yesterday’s news. Alone on a corner, at home and so lost. At home and so lost. Kings Cross. She said behind me, her voice soft and warm, “Stay a while and talk, it’s a long time ‘till dawn.” I turned to look, she was dressed all in white, Strange glimmering angel fallen into the night. Sad, dark eyes, hollow cheeks and pale skin; girls who need money, can’t stop to count costs. Yet, I thought I might know her face, Maybe a friend of a friend. but street corner girls, dressed to the nines… they’re a dozen a dime, in Kings Cross. Unravelling threads, just to make ends meet a slow dance to darkness, on a bright busy street. Just a minute of comfort, just to stand and talk… Then the lights changed, the traffic stopped… I walked. (I was) lost in the winter of ’79, What was her name still haunts my mind. She was gone when I went back, I never saw her again, just a memory, opportunity lost, maybe a friend of a friend; maybe not. Kings Cross. Unravelling threads, just to make ends meet a slow dance to darkness, on a bright busy street. Just a minute of comfort, just to stand and talk… Then the lights changed, the traffic stopped… Kings Cross.
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DANCE WITH THE MOON Just another day gone where all the other days began, as we run clutching to the night all the light we can. Is it written in the stars or the space between the moon, all the reasons why we dance so blithely to this tune? Counting days like rich men count their money, Wasting days while we lock our dreams away. Days like rain only end up meaning something when they've fallen when they've fallen fallen to the ground. So we watch as time slides by pooling memories in the dark; we damn our souls to only leak who we think we are. Is it written in the stars or inscribed upon the sky why we dance so wild and fierce while the music we deny? Little clock works ticking madly unwinding as fast as they can; clutching seconds, loosing lifetimes tumbling out of our hands. Flashing moments whirl so brightly dancing in front of our eyes; spark so briefly, then gone forever out of our sights and minds out of sight out of our minds. Out of nakedness we weave our futures clothe ourselves in all our words and deeds and days till silence claims us, wearing nothing wearing nothing wearing nothing nothing but our names. All these tattoos that we carve in the flesh we feast upon... Did we ever really think we could never be gone? Is it written in the stars or the space between the moon all the reasons why we dance so blithely to this tune? Silence carries us there, bearing only our names. Carry me there, dance with me my flame. For every truth I've ever known is written in your eyes Every truth I've ever known is written in your eyes. All the truth I've ever known is written in your eyes All the truth I've ever known ... written in you.....
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Cottontrees 05:40
COTTONTREES One long time ago/ she thought she knew this land Knew its tracks and traces/ like the back of her hand So long ago now/ she can't understand How she lost all she had/ for the love of a man No going back now/ but no other place to go But down the Combine Road/ where the cotton trees grow. So long ago/ but she remembers so clear Taken from family and friends/ and all she held dear "All for the best ' they said/ what was she to know? So she prayed as she grew/ and hid the tears that flowed. Raised on the white mans' ways/ so far from her home Down the Combine Road/ where the cotton trees grow. His eyes were green/ his name was Joe She was just seventeen/ when he took her in tow fearful in her heart/ but she knew all the same he was the only way out from/ this prison in all but name so she went with him/ further still from her home Down the Combine Road/ where the cottontrees grow. The years rolled fast/ as days slowly passed he took to drinking most nights/ guess that's how it starts a little slap here and there/ rough handling in the dark She started staying at home days/ not to show the marks Some nights he came home/ perfume on his clothes She dreamed of the Combine Road/ where the cottontrees grow. She knew one day/ like most women do Another life growing/ so deep in her womb She hoped this might change things/ help them pull through Till the punches started and the blood began to flow Life ended too soon/ to never blossom and grow To know the Combine Road/ where the cotton trees grow. She couldn't remember how/ but he slumped to the floor Knife in his chest/ as she staggered to the door Blood down her thighs/ three lives shattered and torn. A car in the night/ a long way till the dawn. Yes, a car wreck they say/ so close to home So near yet so far, from the Combine Road. So near and so far from where the cottontrees grow.
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about

Mostly my later tunes, with two older ones ('Are You Happy?' and 'Pigeon Mix #2') on CD for the first time. As with all my work here, it's as 'live' as I can make it, so some rough edges are par for the course.... well, my course at least! Stay happy. MikeC

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released October 13, 2016

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Mike Cavanagh Catalina, Australia

In my 60s (how the hell did THAT happen!). Married to the love of my life - Jules - for 20 years. Stepdad to three adult 'kids'. Other loves of my life - 1970s Gibson J-200, 1978 Gurian 3M and Maton FG 12 string also 1970s vintage. Don't play nowhere these days, but paid some sort of dues over the years - restaurants, bars, even a few weddings. Motto - find beauty; be still (thanks Mr W.H. Murray) ... more

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