You been caught in the light of a bad satellite,
and you’re walking in the night, you’re all wrong, not right.
You’re looking for a better way,
a getaway,
a rescue.

When the sky’s fallin’ in and you’re cutting it thin,
and you’re lickin’ up the pieces and startin’ again,
you gotta find a way —
a better way —
to kill the pain inside you.

You been looking for love in a wilderness,
in the shiny lights of excess.

When you need someone,
when you need someone,
when you need someone —
I will hear the call (x2).

They’ve been giving you flack and you’re giving it back,
and your life is a war and your heart’s on the rack.
You’re looking for a better way,
a getaway,
a rescue.

When emotions attack and you think you’re gonna crack,
and an icy finger runs up and down your back,
you gotta find a way —
a better way —
to kill the pain inside you.

You been looking for love in a wilderness,
in the shiny lights of success.

When you need someone,
when you need someone,
when you need someone —
I will hear the call (x2).

L’article When you need someone est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

Tell me, sweet Jesus, who did Adam call?
After the fall.

Kickin’ empty bottles on a broken boulevard,
addressing curses to the moon and stars.
The city is deranged —
there’s nowhere safe.
It’s gone missin’,
love is missin’.

Tell me, sweet Jesus, who did Adam call?
After the fall.

We orbit
in the dust of stars… blinded!
Fired in the temple of Mars.
Four wounds —
after the fall.
Four wounds —
after the fall.

To understand this Bible,
it’s written by a fool.
Cain makes love to Abel,
and there’s no golden rules.
The rules have changed,
the rules are deranged.
They’ve gone missin’,
love is missing.

Tell me, sweet Jesus, who did Adam call?
After the fall.

We orbit
in the dust of stars… blinded!
Fired in the temple of Mars.
Four wounds —
after the fall.
Four wounds —
after the fall.

L’article After The Fall est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

Hi, said the blue jay as she flew,
If I was a young man, I’d have two.
If one proved fickle and chanced for to go,
I’d have a new string to my bow.

Hi, said the little, little leather-winged bat,
I will tell you the reason that —
the reason that I fly in the night
is because I lost my heart to the light.

All that is and ever was,
before words, before words.
All that is and ever was —
beyond words.
Love is for the birds.

Hi, said the hawk unto the crow,
If you ain’t black then I don’t know.
Ever since old Adam been born,
you’ve bin accused of stealin’ corn.

Hi, said the crow unto the hawk,
I understand your great big talk.
You’d like to swoop down, catch a hen —
I hope the farmer shoots you then.

All that is and ever was,
before words, before words.
All that is and ever was —
beyond words.
Love is for the birds.

For the birds.
For the birds.
For the birds.

L’article The Birds est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

We’re guiding this ship
Through the dark waves
And we’re not heroes
We won’t be saved
Only 7
Lost pebbles in the Brine

We got dreams
To believe in
We got dreams
To believe in

We’re guiding this craft
Through the dark waves
A gang of companions n’
Escaped slaves
Only 7
Strange faces in the wind

We got dreams
To believe in
We got dreams
To believe in
To believe in….

We’re holding the fort
For all that its worth
But we’re no angels
Fallin to the earth
Only 7
Strange names in the wind

We got dreams
To believe in
We got dreams
To believe in
We need dreams to believe in
We need dreams to believe in
To believe in.

L’article Dreams to believe in est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

All the way to the Broomielaw,
we’re gonna take our dance party.
In coats of many colours, karma is comin’ to set us free.
Wahooooooooo!!

There’s a new kind of freedom on Friday St —
the soul-kickin’ moment when we rock the elite.
Flags of peace in the centre of town,
songs in the tunnels of the underground.

All the way to the Broomielaw,
we’re gonna take our dance party.
In coats of many colours, karma is comin’ to set us free.
Wahooooooooo!!

We got times of freedom clashing.
Freedom rain is falling —
falling on every boy and girl,
falling in love to make another world.

We’re gonna take our party uptown.
We’re gonna dance the fling till sundown.
We’re gonna dance, chant, sing — ohh!!
And reclaim a jewel from a crown.

L’article A new kind of freedom est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

Tag and Bone will paint you.
Rag and Bone will dress you.
But Sack a Bones will take you home (x2).
Let me take you home.
You look so alone,
Lady Rag and Bone.
You lost your mobile phone…

Ah won’t ya come on, come on, come on,
come with Sack a Bones.

Tag and Bone will paint you.
Rag and Bone will dress you.
But Sack a Bones will take you home (x2).
You won’t be alone,
and you can use my phone.
I won’t get too stoned…
Oh let’s go rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ them bones.

L’article Sack a Bones est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

She has taken her grandfather’s coat
to hide from prying eyes,
a goodnight kiss to her two loved ones,
then the night train to Shanghai.

Ohh Lucy, ohh Lucy Wan —
run on Lucy, run from the government man.

Now she has taken a secret house
with a friend from the underground.
As Lucy Lee divorcée,
she is married in Shanghai town.

Soon she has her baby child,
a boy with his father’s eyes.
And late at night, on the internet of love,
they whisper in coded disguise.

Ohh Lucy, ohh Lucy Wan —
run on Lucy, run from the government man.
Ohh Lucy, ohh Lucy Wan —
run on Lucy, run from the government plan.

L’article Lucy Wan est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

So just gimme a light and a can of strong brew,
and I’ll spark up a hoolie… spark up a hoolie anew!!
C’mon — hah!!

Hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie man.
Hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie man.

I’m the son of a Viking madman and a druid priestess.
She looked into my eyes and read my future…
…it wasn’t pretty.

Hoolie man.

I’m a man of a thousand faces, phases, phasers, and phrases —
phrases that can kiss the blood like beer,
to bring the most beautiful ones among us to tears.

I was born good… I suppose.
But then just followed my nose
off the beaten track,
and now it’s too late in the night to change.

So just gimme a light and a can of strong brew,
and I’ll spark up a hoolie… spark up a hoolie anew!!

I’m a renegade spirit — Cochise still fires his arrows
and his carbine inside my heart.
And when me and me friends are on the Berserker brew,
it’s the only time I feel brand new.

L’article Hoolie man est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

When boys walked out into No Man’s Land,
exchanging smokes and offering their hands.
Songs were sang on the blasted land
on that charmed day in ’14.

And many’s a tale’s been woven and spun,
how they played football and left their guns,
without a thought or a care who lost or won—
they would fight no more at Christmas.

Well, the news came fast to the high command.
The generals couldn’t begin to understand
the fraternity of the common man
who all believed in Christmas.

And many’s a tale’s been woven and spun,
how they played football and left their guns,
without a thought or a care who lost or won—
they would fight no more at Christmas.

Fight no more at Christmas.
Fight no war at Christmas.

Jimme O’Neill

L’article Christmas 1914 est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.

There’s a field and a farm,
a boy and a mother,
a water tank and a windmill,
a little sister and a brother.

Hey, don’t you know? It’s a family show.

In a tower in a city,
a little boy looks up to his mother,
and a voice in the wall is crying:
« What are we doing to one another? »

Hey baby, don’t you know? It’s a family show.

Where do we come from? Where do we go?
Ah, did you grow up with tears?
Ah, did you grow up with blows?

I’m the boy from the tower.
You’re the girl from the windmill.
And the city is our farm.
It’s our yard, it’s our anthill.

Try to dream it. Let this be your motto:
Love can lead you everywhere you want to go to.
We all know that it’s true.

Where do we come from? Where do we go?
Ah, did you grow up with tears, fear, need?
Ah, did you grow up with blows?

Jimme O’Neill

L’article Aliens est apparu en premier sur The Celtic Social Club.