(Words and music: (c) Robin Hill except where stated)
"I watched all night, there was only you, asleep"
"Dragons" was my ninth completed collection. Most songs originated from the 1990s, with some notable exceptions. The collection is based on a number of themes, but especially on the notions of inner fears and personal demons; and even more especially on the slow but steady process of getting older. For this reason the collection marks the first steps of transition into middle and older age, a theme that will remain present throughout many later collections.
WARNING: A few of the lyrics in this collection contain sexual references or innuendo, or are couched in terms which reflect attitudes of the day, and which may not always be fully acceptable now. Please bear this in mind before reading on.
That said, I present the lyrics in their uncensored form, and insist that some songs (e.g. "In Time To Come") actually use their sexual imagery to make a very different point.
PAGE HISTORY:
Page added May 2002. Notes added March 2019. Scores and tabs added September 2023. Three audio samples added October 2023
More audio samples will be added soon
All words (and music) are copyrighted. Any adaptation or duplication without consent is a breach of copyright.
WHAT IS IT? (Part 1)
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
"What
is it?", she said. "Oh, nothing", I replied,
"Only a passing thought which flickered through my mind and
left again,
Before I had the proper chance to catch a glimpse of what it was;
A fleeting phantom of the mind".
(Contents)
THE SIMPLE TRUTH
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
With
old age not just creeping in,
But stomping through in hob-nail boots,
It`s time to stop, and think about your roots.
When shoulders which so proudly hold
Your once wise head are just as old,
It`s time the reappraisal should begin.
===
Things you can rely on,
Things that still remain,
The past within the future once again.
Things you can be sure of,
Things that never change,
For now you find the present seems so strange.
===
When follies of a misspent youth
Reverberate the distant years,
It`s time to find a new song for your ears.
When every look`s in unkind light,
It`s time to stop the futile fight,
And learn to live with this, the simple truth.....
And learn to live with this, the simple truth.....
(Contents)
ALICE UNDER SKIES
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(Bridge words: Lewis Carroll - all other words: Robin Hill - music: Robin Hill)
I
stood there, watching Alice under skies:
A simple Springtime breeze ran through her hair,
And bowed the heads of flowers which gathered there
For Alice.
She
could not see me, Alice under skies:
She ruled her garden like a fairy queen,
The shadows where I lived would not be seen
By Alice.
And
yet I envied Alice under skies:
The logic of a child has much to teach,
And all the world seemed well within the reach
Of Alice.....
===
.....A boat, beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July -
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased
a simple tale to hear -
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies,
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly
shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream -
Lingering in the golden gleam -
Life, what is it but a dream? .....
===
.....I fancied, watching Alice under skies,
I saw an Autumn wind run through her hair,
Yet still she laughs and plays without a care,
Does Alice.
(Contents)
MUMMY WHERE'S HIS TROUSERS?
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(Words : Robin Hill - Music: Scott Joplin arr Robin Hill)
Mummy,
look through the keyhole and see,
There`s a man with no trousers in there;
And he`s stroking my sister`s knee,
Just like Daddy does with the au pair;
And doing press-ups on the settee,
With his bum waving round in the air,
With my sister between: Oh Mummy, what does it mean?
There`s a man with no trousers in there.
(Contents)
IN TIME TO COME
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
I
look upon your beauty, and I know
That deep within your substance is a flow
Which very soon will summon up and show
Your certainty and warmth, a steady glow
Which tells me that your love`s begun to grow-
But still in time to come your blood will slow.
And though you lie now in a realm of peace,
I know that steady pumping will increase,
Pounding at me urgently to ease
The wrappings from your body, to release
Your being from that thin and skimpy fleece-
But still in time to come your heart will cease.
You slip your gown off slowly, to reveal
Your naked breast, so silky, as a seal,
Ooh, and smooth as velvet, calling for the feel
Of eager hands, to make those buds congeal
And scream for satisfaction as you kneel-
But still in time your skin will flake and peel.
And when I find that moist and tender spot,
Your body is a furnace, fresh and hot,
A lime-kiln which will fire my aching pot,
And harden it with everything it`s got-
But still in time to come your flesh will rot.
And strong, within that frail and feeble crust,
Your sturdy frame absorbs my rampant lust,
It soaks and savours each delightful thrust-
But still in time to come your bones will rust,
The worms of time will grind them into dust.
You lie content, forever on your face,
Eternity shines through that last embrace-
But still in time you`ll vanish without a trace.
(Contents)
THE CAVE AT THE HEART OF THE FOREST
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(Music:
Robin Hill)
(No lyric)
(Contents)
IN THE EMBERS
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
It
grieves me on these cold and frosted nights
To kneel in contemplation of the lights,
Calling out to me
Beyond the silver tree
From some strange secret memory of December;
Or else to guard the fire and watch it glow
And flicker in a blaze of long ago,
A reminder of the past,
Until it dies at last,
The elusive memory twisted in the embers;
I sigh, and think, and pause awhile, and stare
Once more for those illusions deep in there,
Sifting through my mind
For what I`m trying to find,
Then sigh again for what I can`t remember.
(Contents)
JAZZ ON A HOT SUMMER NIGHT
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
Usually
now, at the end of the day,
You can hear all the echoes of miles away,
A sheepdog perhaps, who is barking somewhere
Through the silence that hangs in the late evening air;
But that's not the picture tonight:
For I, at my table with paper and pen,
Pause, write a sentence, then falter again;
Distracted instead by the thunderous roar
Of the voices and sounds from the party next door;
Composure corrupted,
My work interrupted
By jazz on a hot summer night.
I try to plough onwards, my job`s on the line,
The boss wants my figures tomorrow at nine;
But the noise and the lights leave me nowhere to hide,
And I move to the window, peer slyly outside
Through the gloom of the fast fading light:
By the shed in the garden, alongside the wall,
In a blue cotton frock and a taffeta shawl,
A pretty young princess is taking the air
With a leather-clad youth, who is stroking her hair:
They are laughing and joking,
Drinking and smoking
The soul of a hot summer night.
Memories and follies from thirty years ago
Come back through the curtains to tease you in play:
Some you forget, most you regret;
Yet they all shape the follies we still hold today.
As we grow older, the faults of our youth
Are put firmly behind us, but maybe in truth
It`s the follies of age which play most on the mind,
And stand most at fault, for that putting behind;
And maybe that`s why I`m uptight:
The blue cotton princess in the taffeta shawl
Still stands in the gloom of the shed by the wall;
But the leather-clad youth who was stroking her hair
Has his arms wrapped around her, now stroking elsewhere;
And I just feel so slighted,
I wasn't invited
To the funk of a hot summer night.
(Contents)
ROGER BENNETT *
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
It`s
ten to eight, says Roger Bennett:
Patterns dance in sleep filled eyes,
As, lost within a dream that lingers,
One beside you starts to rise.
Then, five to eight, says Roger Bennett:
Make up ruined, your hair a mess,
As, urged on by a call of nature,
One beside you starts to dress.
===
The sunlight from the curtains just above you
Silhouettes your breathing through the bed;
Last night, perhaps, the urge was there to love you,
But love right now`s a cup of tea instead.
And as I place one cup upon the table,
The smile which creeps across your ruined face
Reminds me, you were young, and I was able,
Before we woke up in this different place.
===
It`s eight o` clock, says Roger Bennett,
As one beside you eyes the door:
Too early, and too late, for passion,
Yet strange, it`s never mattered more.
* The late
Roger Bennett was a much loved local radio presenter in the
Bristol area. RIP
DRAGONS
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
You
talked to me of dragons
Who stalked you from their lair,
I went to look, there were no dragons there;
You talked to me of goblins
Who poked at you for fun,
I looked, but couldn`t find a single one;
You talked to me of aliens
Who shot at you from space,
I scanned the skies, but couldn`t find a trace;
You talked to me of pirates
Who made you walk the plank;
I sailed the seven seas, but drew a blank;
===
Sleep onwards, the stars are bright,
You have no need to fear the night;
There`s nothing here for you to fight
That cannot wait until the light;
===
You talked to me of ghosties
Who haunted you at night,
Yet I kept watch, there were no ghosts in sight;
You talked to me of monsters
Who rose up from the deep,
I watched all night, there was only you, asleep;
Only you, asleep.....
Only you, asleep.....
(Contents)
WHERE THE TIME WENT
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
Funny,
I didn`t notice where the time went;
Why, only yesterday the days were long,
My spirit resolute, my purpose strong.....
===
Give me time to make my peace,
Make good what failings I still can
And ease those now beyond control;
To dot my I`s and cross my T`s,
And somehow make a poem scan,
It`s ragged story vaguely whole;
Give
me time to spend with those
Whose love affords acute relief
From all the wounds of my own pride;
But most of all, time to compose
A simple message, which, though brief,
Would sum up all I feel inside:-
A masterpiece of simple prose,
To ease you through your own deep grief,
And maybe keep me breathing by your side.....
===
Funny, I don`t recall quite where the time went;
I`ve wasted oh so much of it, and yet
Its passing holds so much I can`t forget.....
(Contents)
WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER SAY?
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
(Please note: this was one of the very first songs I ever wrote. I was 17 at the time.)
Don`t
take these things so badly, I`d devour you if I could,
The words your neckline writes across your formbooks say you`re
good,
Your conversation`s bright and gay,
Your warmth shows up a mile away,
It`s not that you can`t turn me on, I just don`t think you
should.
===
Don`t be shy to stay,
You`ve such good things to say:
The foaming girls and lovely beer
Mean less when you are lying here,
It`s just that what seems all too near
Should be too far away.
===
Don`t think because it doesn`t flow the well is running dry,
You`re old enough to take care of yourself, well, so am I,
I`ll wait until I`m quite alone,
Then work the handle on my own,
And though it`s never quite the same, don`t worry, I`ll get by.
===
But do please stick around,
It`s just that I have found
That though I`d like to take you high,
They won`t allow our plane to fly,
And with no permit for the sky
We must stay on the ground.
===
Perhaps I`d act the way I feel if things were up to me,
But there`s not a lot of point in going down, albeit in ecstasy,
So please don`t try to hold my hand,
The judge would never understand,
Just wait until you wake one morning soon, and then we`ll see.
===
So stay and talk awhile, I still admire your style,
It`s just that in this coloured light
Your surface seems so black and white;
I`d love to paint you red tonight,
But it`s just not worth my while.
(Contents)
SEPTEMBER
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
Your
life has reached the first of its September,
From sturdy treetops leaves prepare to fall,
The freshened breeze whips through the fields and hedges,
In answer to some vague Autumnal call;
Your face has shown the first signs of September,
Its complex Summer contours now laid bare,
Your August eyes now fading around the edges,
An Autumn grey now swirling through your hair;
===
Memories of the future, predictions of the past,
Blend to form a pattern as I find myself at last;
Retrospective foresight, clairvoyant memory,
What was once is now, and one day soon will come to be,
As time plays now the strangest of tricks on me;
===
Our love has reached the first days of September,
And all the soft warm days that went before
Can only strengthen what our time alleges:
It`s September, and I only love you more.....
(Contents)
TREASURE
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
Running through a green field, down a country lane,
Splashing through the puddles in the rain,
Climbing trees for plunder, lost in childhood wonder,
Gentle memories stored for use again;
Holding hands with Sarah, evenings in the park,
Stealing trembling kisses in the dark,
Slowly growing older, quickly growing bolder,
Faded memories yet so clear and stark
Inside my treasure chest;
Schoolboy pranks and horseplay, homework every night,
Often spurned for well pursued delights,
Icy cold obstructions to well rehearsed seductions
Melt in time to linger warm and bright;
College rags and studies, graduation day,
Working nine to five with rent to pay,
Affairs and aspirations, hopes and then frustrations,
Things that shape the ways I am today,
Each lovingly restored and locked away
Inside my treasure chest;
===
Memories, life is full of memories,
My favourite team at Wembley, lifting up the cup,
Deep sea fishing, mountain streams, fire engines, soft ice
creams,
Fancy poems and fancy cars, wild wild parties, wild guitars;
And though it`s filled with all the best,
My never ending treasure chest will never be full up;
===
Sitting on my own now, evening slips unseen,
Lost behind the foreground of a dream,
Past melts into present, time seems obsolescent,
As I flit lightly somewhere in between,
Thinking of the way things might have been;
I can`t reshape the past now, but maybe that`s no shame,
For memories shed the painful ways they came;
The proofs of refutations, and constant transformations,
Are mixed with means by which I overcame,
Then stored away and nurtured just the same
Inside my treasure chest;
===
Reflections, of all my life`s reflections,
Are sadder recollections, more poignant than the rest;
Qualms of conscience, ivory towers, saddest moments, darkest
hours,
Chances gained and chances spurned, disappointments, lessons
learned;
Yet from their memories I`ve contrived the love and strength to
stay alive;
So, more than any, they survive inside my treasure chest.
(Contents)
I AM THE ONE
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
In
the middle of the night,
Through the thunder and the pouring rain,
I am the one
Who turns up to haunt you again;
So you thought you could run,
So you thought you could give me the slip?
Well I am the one,
The one you can never outstrip,
And I`ll never let you out of my grip.....
===
You like killing time, it goes quicker when it`s dead,
And whilst that might always be true now,
It seems that the time has turned circle instead,
And the time that you kill`s killing you now;
Youth is a passion which died long ago,
Its purpose a half twisted ember,
And what it once seemed you were too young to know
Is now what you can`t even remember;
And knowing you have doubts now, then so too do I,
And not because yours are well founded,
But having them at all gives a reason to your lie,
And with reasons the lies are compounded;
And no sense of logic could ever begin
To unravel the ties which now bound you:
There`s no way out of your nightmare, the only way is in,
The circles now closing around you.....
===
Your dreams are just dreams,
A keepsake of how you might feel,
But I am the one,
I`m your nightmare, and baby, I`m real;
So darlin`, get ready to squeal;
Baby, are you ready to reel.....?
===
Come, slip off your gown now, and stand here by me,
Let`s look in the mirror, and guess, love:
Is it really the shape of a pretty girl I see;
Or a beautiful woman nonetheless.....?
(Contents)
WHAT IS IT? (Part 2)
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(Words and music: Robin Hill)
"What
is it?", she asked. "Oh, nothing", I sighed,
And smiled at the warmth and comfort of the hand she put in mine.
(Contents)