Folklore SD Audio.Indd

Folklore Where the water’s edge If you stand all alone Folklore meets the squares and the streets George will slay his foe Wassail the river ‘knows the mood where the grass can never grow. Let us begin where it all began, of kings and crowds and priests’. At night, Wayland’s forges glow Apple tree, old apple tree fi reside fl ickering fl ames Take tea in the gardens, smelting iron and blood Bountiful we raise a glass to thee make the shadows dance drunk for a penny or two. for wings to fl y him home. We sing our song Stars will lead you home. Stand fast, stand strong Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on At home, a world of steel and stone Bough and leaf bear fruit aplenty we hand it down-o Sailing on the English way with stories never told racing on the high tides. where you feel so alone. In Eden gone, when the world was young We tell our tales, we sing our songs, Here by the riverside But back out there on the hills Paradise was where it all began while we have breath left in our lungs reaching for the day’s last light. the chalk horse comes on down Just one bite was all it took takes water from the well. Expulsion and the fall of man Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on When the Houses fall And by the light of the moon we hand it down-o and the fl ames meet the sky Alfred sounds his stone Apple tree, we bless your crown Turner takes his boat out and legends are reborn. Yield much fruit or fell ye down We pass it on down to catch the light. Raise your roots to the young from the old, Here comes the Salisbury Giant Hear me, tree! we feel it deep down in the soul And far downstream the Alice is clean gone here comes a lonely man Bough and leaf bear fruit aplenty in the dark she slipped away. a crowd of people lead him by the hand. Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on Wassail - Bring new life we hand it down-o Racing on the English way Wassail - Be alive sails against the skyline. Salisbury Giant Wassail - Blessed be Sometimes truth hides beside the lies, Down by the water’s edge grist to the mill, fuel to our fi re Wassail reaching for the last light. Here comes the Salisbury Giant Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on here comes a lonely man Wassail King, hear us sing Time and tide wait for no man. a crowd of people lead him by the hand. we hand it down-o A river passing by Through the orchards as the crowds fade away. And the village green For it is said, so it lives on we pass it down, it carries on The fi res grow cold in the east. The Transit of Venus We sing our song Skylon rises in a brave new world. Across the Sun Stand fast, stand strong Oh down we go into folklore The clocks are stopped Bough and leaf bear fruit aplenty and boats are held. A fault in time and place, The pen is mightier than the sword, a black drop at the edge of the Sun. Wassail Queen - Oh my, oh my the music of the word is scored Time and tide wait for no man The stars all clouded out, She is beauty personifi ed and now the ship has sailed starlight never breaking through. Raise her up to the bough of the tree Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on and the crowds fade away. Blessed be we hand it down-o But by the water’s edge Here be dragons taking fl ight at the end of the road and demons through the long nights; Wassail Our satellites they span the globe, I still reach for the day’s last light. the sky all fallen in, lo our stories shall be told nothing ever was the same again. Return to the womb Deep down in the earth Heigh-ho so we go we pass it on Along the Ridgeway Set a course for the stars, Wait for the spring rebirth we hand it down-o reaching out for the far things. The clayen cup We douse the roots Racing for the hillsides Taking fl ight to the distance For it is said, so it lives on never meaning to return. With cider kept from last year’s fruits we pass it down, it carries on like shadows from the clouds Cut in twain you will fi nd a place to fl y. Low on the horizon, A fi ve pointed star Oh down we go into folklore the setting of the evening star. A sign of who we are Just below the Ridgeway Let spirits fl y ’cross fi elds of summerlease The light that guides him home I am a messenger: I speak is fading once again. The apple of my eye with integrity, truth, love and light walk towards the open sky. Wassail If you stand all alone Set a course for the stars, For it is said, so it lives on reaching out for the far things. and when we’re gone, we carry on Alfred sounds the stone so the story goes. Taking fl ight to the distance never meaning to return. Oh down we go into folklore Racing on the hillsides the shadows gone to ground So many words left unsaid london Plane they will fi nd a place to rise. so many deeds left undone Up there on the Ridgeway the transit of Venus across the Sun. Where the road runs down the path beneath your feet to the river bank that will lead away from home. So many words left unsaid and the mudlarks search on the shore. so many deeds left undone Where the watermen set sail so many tales without an end for the towns upstream the transit of Venus across the Sun. upon a golden course to Runnymede. Winkie Part 6: Winged Saviou Where did all the time go? Air Sea Rescue heed the call Coming over the headland Part 1 ‘New information...try once more’ at high speed Where once before they’d the sun at my back. So, World War I is won searched in vain The cry of the engines, The NPS days are done They must venture out again the roar of the crowd. The MOD say that radio is the way Now there is hope where Pigeons have had their day chance was slim Racing away from the shoreline But Major Osman believes back there as a young lad at Brooklands. radio is still in its infancy But thank God, fifteen minutes in Mountains rise into the distance, He can still see the need the crew are found, safe and sound jetsam adrift on the water. to get the NPS back on its feet Thanks to their winged saviour I was a lucky man, a lucky man. Part 2: Sortie Part 7: ‘We Also Serve’ I did the things I can, the things I can’t explain. February 23rd 1942 You flew safely home Winkie But where did all the time go? A Beaufort bomber returning home Hey, the inaugural recipient With a four man crew You flew straight, flew true, Just give me one more run Major Osman believes radio Winkie on the racing line. is still in its infancy One more time. So Bomber Command issue One last time. this rule which states that ‘Two pigeons accompany each crew’ Brooklands If the radio can’t be used, because pen pushers need their proof Coming over the headland at high speed Part 3: The North Sea with the sun at my back. From the valley below me With one engine down carried on the breeze They had to ditch into the sea the cry of the engine is calling. The radio operator had time to send an SOS Like a ghost on the water But radio contact went down that shimmers upon the impact in silver and red, Telling the Bees The SOS it is received flying over the surface but there is nothing more to the finishing line. My mother said ‘Listen, son... No coordinates, no way to know Your father’s gone, if the crew are still alive Racing away from the shoreline; now the time has come. back there as a young lad at Brooklands. You must tell the bees he gave his life. In pitching waves, fuel and oil, Mountains rise into the distance. Drape black cloth over the hives.’ a pigeon is released Jetsam drifts on the water. Now I am the keeper NEU40 NSL, and the years passed by, ‘Winkie’, starts her flight Driving onto the banking at high speed until the day that Jenny caught my eye. She takes to the sky I walked over and I asked her for a kiss on the 50 foot line. Sweet taste of honey on her lips Part 4: Winkie’s Flight The cry of the engines the roar of the crowd. Telling the bees, telling the bees Air Sea Rescue search but it’s a hopeless task The hammer strikes sound As old as these hills and old as the stones With no coordinates in the workshops I feel it down to my soul the smell of burned oil fills the air. The search area is just too vast And the bees were told, In a life raft they must wait and pray I rode there on two wheels came back with four, on the day we wed The crew have one hope to survive Wild flower garlands Fly safely home, Winkie I said all my words on the racing line.

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