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by Daniel Rachel.

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Ode to the Fallen Heroes

Where go all the writers who don't want to write no more
With words of beauty, words of truth and words I'll hear no more
Painters and priests with their words and their beliefs
But without my writers how am I to know how to think

No more sailors who find distant shores
Tales of faraway lands where no man been before
Of strange birds, strange foods and new stars in the sky
A sailor on a sailor boat showing me which way to float

Down below our feet a miner digs up for coal
To bring us warmth around the fireplace through the winters and the storms
For the steam trains on the rails delivering our post
The miner and his spotlight in dark places we never knowed

To the lovers and the fighters on a weekend venture out
Looking for love, looking for blood or the nearest face to cheat
To the poets and the singers, the actors and the comics
It's a friend we do depend upon who is wise and shares our grief

So stand up you voters who know which way to think
Between left, right and the middle ground or the nearest faraway place
Money to spend, money to lend, money to buy new homes
A country I can believe in, in a country I can call home

Now gather 'round yeol friends of mine, who don't want to serve no more
I've a rich man, I've a rich plan, been rich since the day I been born
Buyers and sellers with goods to exchange
Bring your lot, share your stock, when the poor man does a-wail

Newborn babies crying all around the world
Touch, smell, hear, sense, much in the way to be learnt
Mothers and fathers wish happiness, wish health
But each new child born brings his own independence

There's villains and conmen, and those from the dark side
Wouldn't know good if it stood upright in front of them
To the critics and the gamblers, to the judges and the jailors
Lend a friend a helping hand and the let the riches flow unto you.

Musicians

Charlie Hoskyns - Double bass
Daniel Rachel - Acoustic guitar, vocals

Production

Produced by Daniel Rachel
Recorded at Dust Studios, London
Mixed by Bartrum at Bob Lamb's Studio, Birmingham

Recorded live, which is rare. Like Dylan's 'Positively Fourth Street', I challenged myself to write a song without a chorus, solo, middle eight, all the usual song structures, just 32 lines on a revolving melody.