Hello forum mates. It's been ages since I posted a track here (the muse naffed off for a bit, plus I got busy with new job etc). But anyway, here's a demo-stage version of a song I wrote a bit more than a year ago, when I had time to hang out in the local garden I was volunteering at a lot more. It's about the therapeutic quality of having a spade in your hand. Not properly mixed or anything yet but I wanted to post something to prove I'm still here. Thanks for any feedback. Pauly
KEEP YOUR FINGERS DIRTY
If you're an analogue man under digital siege, you wake up bleary eyed and the first thing that you read is
All these missives from overseas...
If you're trying to be a corporate hero but you're getting let down by the raw materials
Hanging out here, with the heebie-jeebies...
If everything you do requires a password and everything you don't is being observed
All these objectives can get a man down.
But there is a place, or perhaps it's a prayer,
Where the signals don't penetrate the afternoon air and
All my wishes go to ground.
Keep your fingers dirty, find yourself a patch of land
Mother Nature's filthy and she's looking for a man.
Dig a hole that's deep enough for all this rigmarole
Keep your fingers dirty now and clean up your soul.
If your girl's AWOL or you're not breaking bread, you're wondering if she's gonna kick it in the head
Stop right there! My fickle friend.
For there is a place, show her a new angle: get down with the beetles, the bindweed and bramble
Tangle up your roots and bloom again.
Keep your fingers dirty, find yourself a patch of land
Mother Nature's filthy and she's looking for a man.
Dig a hole that's deep enough for all this vitriol.
Keep your fingers dirty now and clean up your soul.
Stick and stones won't break your bones - it's their lack that hurts you.
Your head keeps spinning and your pulse keeps skipping and your mind keeps telling you there's something missing.