Monthly Archives: March 2013

Where You Want Me [demo]

Where you want me: words and music by David Harley, copyright 1982

You got me where you want me
Just one thing I’d ask of you
‘Cos you got me where you want me
Just one thing I’d beg of you
Honey, please don’t flick my switches
If you don’t want me to blow my fuse

I’ve got no plans for leaving
Nowhere else I’d want to be
No-one else is on my mind
There’s no-one else I’d rather see
But if you don’t like my peaches
Honey please don’t shake my tree

Pass me that bottle
Why don’t we drink a little wine?
I can see you’re nervous
But there’s no need to explain
I’m not here to fool you
You can take your time with me
But if you don’t want sugar
Take your fingers off my cane

‘Cos you got me where you want me
Any way you want me, any time
Any way you want me
You can have me any time
But if you don’t dig my taters
Baby please don’t shake my vine

Pass me that bottle
Don’t drink all that wine
It’s OK, there’s nothing to explain
I’m not here to use you
Take as long as you need
But if you don’t want my sugar
Take your fingers off my cane

You got me where you want me
Just one thing I’d ask of you
‘Cos you got me where you want me
Just one thing I’d beg of you
Honey, please don’t flick my switches
If you don’t want me to blow my fuse

David Harley
Small Blue-Green World
ESET Senior Research Fellow

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Her Own Way Down [demo]

Very early song: I think I started it long before 1980. It has a kind of Tom Paxton/Eric Anderson/Jackson Frank folk/country feel that’s more ’60s than ’80s. I often feel quite nostalgic for that era, though.

She’ll have to learn to make her own way down
Or learn to lean on someone else
Now her good man’s not around
She’ll have to learn to make her own way down

She’ll have to make her own way in the dark
Though I tried so hard to warn her
I always missed my mark
She’ll have to make her own way in the dark

I’ll have to find my own path through the rain
I got by without her once
I guess I can again
I’ll have to find my own path through the rain

I’m crying now, but not forever, wait and see
Though once we loved each other
And she was so good for me
Nothing lasts forever, wait and see 

She’ll have to learn to make her own way down
Or learn to lean on someone else
Now her good man’s not around
She’ll have to learn to make her own way down

Her Own Way Down: Words and Music by David Harley: copyright 1980 

Pick My Pocket

Words and Music by David Harley, copyright 1976

No MP3 yet

Got no fare
for a boat or plane
I got shoes to walk
but I’m here just the same

Buddy, you can pick my pocket
got no greens to lose
just a headful of empty
and a mouthful of blues

I was looking for a highway
I can make it down alone
just like every hobo, sewer-rat
and doggone rolling stone

Buddy, you can pick my pocket
got no greens to lose
just a headful of empty
and a mouthful of blues

Got a new way of spelling
ecstasy
E is for Exit
and the rest is for free

Buddy, you can pick my pocket
got no greens to lose
just a headful of empty
and a mouthful of blues

Oddly enough, the last verse has nothing whatsoever to do with drug abuse/MDMA… (I don’t think I’d heard of MDMA then!)

Seventeen Year Itch [demo]

At the time I wrote this, even being forty didn’t seem something I needed to identify with: all the other stuff seemed far, far away. So not too many biographical clues here. 🙂 In fact, I used to precede it with ‘Love Hurts’ so that you had two diversely miserable love stories together: however, I don’t think I could get away with singing ‘I’m young, I know…’ these days. Quite a rough version: I think I might change the instrumentation drastically for the finished version.

Words and Music by David Harley, copyright 1986 

 

And this is an older version with solo electric guitar.

Front tyre blew
Tax overdue
Picked up
A parking fine or two

Gas bill trouble
Rent is doubled
You say
“NOW what’s wrong with you?”

Dentures slipping
Nervous twitch
17-year-itch

I’m underpaid and overweight
So let’s go and celebrate

Who said life begins at 40?

Kids are listening
Separate beds
Bitter thoughts
In separate heads

Kids are screaming
Dogs are howling
Milk gone bad
We’re out of bread

So I leer at typists
Wonder which
Might scratch
My seventeen year itch

I must have wasted
So much time
The other side
Of 39

Monday morning
Bus queue blues
MOT
Overdue

My head is bursting
My eyes need testing
Sorry
That I snapped at you

Sorry
Sorry
Always saying sorry
Always praying
There might be some peace sometime
The other side of 65
But would it be so hard to be
Another aging divorcee?

 

David Harley

Marking Time

Marking Time (Words by Fiona Freeman, tune by David Harley): (c) 1976

Sadly, I lost touch with Fiona Freeman decades ago. If she or anyone who knows/knew her happens across this page and cares to get in touch, please do. david (dot) a (dot) Harley (at) gmail (dot) com. Sorry, no reward, not even royalties….

Demo MP4

Same demo with added mandolin, proving conclusively that I’m not a multi-instrumentalist.

We both know the lines
And we both know the score
And we sit drinking scotch
With no time for one more

And the time shuffles past
Like a drunk in a bar
Our hands meet and lock
Trying to cover the scar

And just like a sundial
The shadow moves round
Helping to darken the good news
We just found

Outside our four walls
There’s another day’s rain
Inside our two minds
Another day’s pain

Now down the road walking
Our footsteps in rhyme
Yet it seems for so long
We’ve been just marking time