1. |
Gloria (album version)
03:26
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I've known the game like I've known the lead.
I've trampled far behind - it seems I've
Known some loss. I've known to please, but
Now I know I never knew a Gloria.
Gloria. Gloria. Gloria.
I heard advice on what to make, but
Every single chance I take is
Off the books. Not well informed, for
All I don't know, I owe it all to Gloria.
Gloria. Gloria. Gloria.
But I never knew a Gloria.
Gloria. Gloria. Gloria.
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2. |
Repetitive Lullaby
04:56
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Please, I beg you to tell me,
How is it they're limping, yet we lag behind?
I've asked you a thousand times.
I'm going to reply to myself, with a
Repeatable Lullaby.
There is no more of your saliva on my tongue.
How will I speak cleverly anymore?
If there is one thing I've noticed,
Rain smells best once its fallen,
And waiting to drain.
I cannot recycle wasted time, but
Still, I cant complain.
My favorite chores are better than my least favorite game.
Our marriage will never tick-tock like clockwork
And the pulse of its heart will never echo after death.
Not that it ever should, though never will I say,
That my favorite chore comes second, to my least favorite game.
You're a repetitive lullaby,
My liability.
How will I speak cleverly anymore?
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3. |
Ambitious Drinker
03:14
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This ambitious drinker can manage
Four walls with two firsts. Its not a challenge.
I reckon so.
From head to toe.
That happy drinking woe.
That carbonated spirit and the will of pleasured waste.
To love the sounds of lager, and to love the long chats taste.
To live in all enjoyment of a self fulfilled disgrace.
Sure as I can count from one to ten,
These Cornish boys are agricultural men.
Long line of backs going in.
This ambitious drinker. This rabbit hole thinker.
This old man, linger.
The social crimes he and I committed,
Were never at all close to acquitted.
And that I know - so forth they go
Into this history that slowly evolves, into
Another night of 'just a few' then paint strippers to end.
I blinked, and we are forty five with strippers on a bender,
That's lasted now two decades and a half.
Have we realized the expenses of a laugh?
Of a laugh? Of a laugh?
This ambitious drinker. This rabbit hole thinker.
This old man, linger.
The stages lights have all gone cold.
The theaters curtains are long drawn.
This show is done, lets get a drink.
Tonight is all on me, and
Don't you even argue cos' you know you won't get far.
Another round of lagers and another loud hoorah.
We're slurring words, we're happy. And happily ever laughter.
Happily ever laughter.
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4. |
Julia
08:57
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Julia, I've wanted to put your
Name in so many other songs of mine, but I
Put if off - now just to see the
Impossibility of you leaving my mind.
Julia, I'm realizing now there was
Never a bad time, and now its about time, for
Julia, I cannot compare.
I live now with knowing I wont see you again.
Julia. Julia. You've gone too far, Julia.
Cordoba, it has you back now, or
Salta it was? I've forgotten somehow. To think
Who we are - come 15th July, you've
Reached thirty one before I'm twenty five.
Julia. My sweet Julia. You've gone too far Julia.
Wouldn't you say?
So rich in imperfection - Still vivid in reflection.
And to the sounds of Moby, your hums were cold and lonely.
Julia, two years have passed.
I knew you for nothing. For two and a half months.
Our times aligned - thank Christ that they did.
The new beauty on Lygon, and very few disagreed.
Julia, when your grandmother passed,
I'd known you five days. A Wednesday night in that park -
We talked along, you were weepy and still.
You doused me in memories - some trip to Brazil.
Julia Veronica Gonzales Albarracin.
Julia, this songs a bit much, I know,
Though we only have ourselves to blame.
I hope you're well, and your sister is too,
Your mother, your father, your two young nephews.
Julia. You've gone too far, Julia.
My friends, they hear it often - That I've not at all forgotten.
To leave you at departures. My love, buenas noches.
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5. |
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All Good Things Must Come To An Endemic.
Our night was bitter - the mornings dew and
Your drying tears, I'm indifferent to.
Don't come downstairs for a shard of love.
The doors unlocked - let the cold wake you up.
My sneakers have secrets you will never know.
Disallow desire to make you go
Crazy for a truth as cold as the
Fact my birth was only ever possible.
Your #Illridewithyou,
Lasted a week or two.
But all good things must come to
An endemic, before they see there end.
I'm wearing well defined flannelette,
While trying to define 'flâneur'.
I cannot burn this ice berg -
It can only melt away.
You find the world to be a daunting place,
Where one mans sorrow is another's trade
In which a funeral is a piece of cake.
You adore the ocean but loathe the waves.
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6. |
I Love You Mate
06:13
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Those old Roman thoughts of morose, morse-coded,
Often horse shit coated love affairs, are back again, though
Clothed in an oath of a garment, that time alone
Did not so much offer to, as force on them. I'm remembering those
Half-arsed hugs, that I always hate.
I love you mate. ( x 10 )
And no questions asked
Just as I cannot remember the first tooth I grew,
I cannot at all recall the first truth I knew, but
Stemming from the days when my books were all the rage, this
Veracity I sought - it was never on the page, so
God forbid they question why I always say
I love you mate. ( x 10 )
And no holds barred.
And within all these closed off lives.
I found the widest, the most open eyes.
And god, we all get along.
No prequel, nor sequel, to see all as equal.
I recall that free fall.
Whatever the weather, for worse or for better,
I read all these signals, and seek all I recall.
Nostalgic FM radio, familiar as the laugh of you
One day first born daughter. Your second wives hoorah.
No matter where it all ends up - Perth, London, N.Z, Vienna
Off to prison - I'll shout your bail. I'm at the gates to pick you up.
Just as God is made of faith, and bricks are made of clay,
I love you mate. ( x 16 )
Its all been a laugh.
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7. |
Roads Of Joy
11:55
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Best bring the old brolly.
Cos' its umbrella weather,
Down in Margaret River.
A vast change from the Great Northern Highway.
And best bring the SPF 50+
Sunscreen to the Barossa
Valley. Oh, I can't believe
This heat as I'm finally putting a face to this name.
And showtime begins.
There is nothing like these tastings,
And their aftermath.
Golden sommeliers,
They ran me through
The ins and the outs.
And when I arrived in Langhorne Creek,
They taught me of winters flooded vineyards.
And to my surprise, Burns and Fuller -
Well, it was not in fact at all a winery.
And regrettably I never saw McLaren Vale.
Instead I drove further down to Coonawarra -
A Cabernet Mecca.
They're so long - these roads of joy.
Where I tasted all I'd learnt of,
And so much more.
From interstate highways to every cellar door
I reminisced on wines I'd had over years, though what I thought of more
Was the good-type folk, with whom those wines were drank
My run of Reschkes Cabernets.
The Pinots of my Richmond days
My sisters cheaper chardonnays, of course.
The incalculable wines of the widest qualities
The modest band of friends I've gained in my time.
I counted my blessings as I traversed Australia,
Through the Hume's burnt remains,
And the Clare's greenest of Riesling vines.
On these roads of joy, I drive my car
Back to my old Western Australia.
Where some day, I will reside
In the peace and the serenity of the Bickley Valley.
Right on by where I was raised.
And where the terroir and the grapes are
As unknown as me.
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8. |
Better Off Alive
07:01
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I've longed hard for actors.
I've applauded well done scams.
I've yawned over poems, and
Wept over sad adverts.
And due to this, I validate
My affections for crime.
Here we are now, better off alive.
My friend and I had dinner,
Though we we really should have booked.
We were overlooked in service
And the steaks came overcooked.
But still we clinked our glasses and we
Laughed and had a time.
Here we are now, better off alive.
The best years of your life
That is a myth I really love.
How the chores of my childhood
I once considered tough.
Whatever decade is stellar,
Whether past or due in time,
Here we are now, better of alive.
Today I had a flashback
To all that was once here.
I recall drinking cordial
And chatting off your ear.
But now we sit in silence
With a finer glass of wine.
Here we are now, better off alive.
That strive for definition
What a thing that is to have.
A woman once told me
She had given all she had,
And the the quantity of love in her
Was not a quality of mine.
Here we are now, better off alive.
A friend of mine back home
He's an expert on the birds.
A wordsmith on the piss,
And a lover of the 'burbs.
Its rare that we talk
But he's rarely far from my mind.
Here we are now, better off alive.
I used to love the airport
And everything it gave.
I used to hate the sunshine,
And only loved the rain.
Whatever is the weather
If I feel it somethings right.
Here we are now, better off alive.
I'm a very happy person
My life is far from tough.
Though I've only sung of romance
Since giving up on love.
I tell myself this often
And believe it when I try.
Here we are now, better off alive.
Right here, better off alive.
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Drew Woolley Perth, Australia
Drew Woolley is a singer-songwriter from the Perth hills. His sound is typified by a solemn vocal delivery and intricate accompaniment on several guitar types.
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