Krooner: Johnny Pulp and the Lemonheads

he's walking through the rain and thinki.mp3

there's a chapel in the hospital and eve.mp3

he's sat in a corner of the old bar.mp3

slow days smoke down into slow evenings .mp3

well once a week I walk on the heath.mp3

am walking down the long long road.mp3

she reads books day by day and sometimes.mp3

where were you, when I was falling .mp3

souls with feathers smothered in blood.mp3

I walk through the rain.mp3

Sleeve Notes

he's walking through the rain and thinking of her even though he knows it's ridiculous he's ridiculous and she's told him she's given him that friendly look that knows but he can't help it so he walks without an umbrella or a coat and lets the rain wash him away wash him likewalking through the rainall the sadness and the painof a lonely and desperate endless timehe's an ordinary man walking through summer dying he's sinatra or someone someone who knows where heartbreak dwells in the deepest hours of the night in ordinary bars with ordinary life flowing around in anonymous faces and people going about their lives as desperate no doubt as desperate his own he reckons and wishes he had a smoke or some other place to go so he walks in the rain walking through the rainall the sadness and the painof a lonely and desperate endless timehe's an ordinary man walking through summer dyingand its summertime summertime the saddest season when light glows and makes the world pretend to be hopeful but in his heart he just wants to break down even though there's no where to break down into no place to go this is this he recalls that De Niro line from when he was young long long time ago walking through the rainall the sadness and the painof a lonely and desperate endless timehe's an ordinary man walking through summer dyingand he isoverwhelmed by both a tremedous feeling of sorrow and also gratitude for any one who ever showed him anything like kindness and love because there are those frail and delicate connections despite the indifference of the world they reached his heart sne he recalls the sory of the birds seeking shelter in the warmoth of the feast house flying in from darkness before flying out again into equal darkness ah is that all is that all he asks well he's as scared and lonely now as he was as a boywalking through the rainall the sadness and the painof a lonely and desperate endless timehe's an ordinary man walking through summer dying and that seems strange to him he wonders why he never improved never got a grip and he shakes his head and the rain sparkles like diamonds in the space around his head and he looks up to the great grey sky and stifles a cry in his throat and walks and walks on through the rainwalking through the rainall the sadness and the painof a lonely and desperate endless timehe's an ordinary man walking through summer dying there's a chapel in the hospital and even though he's not religious he has arrived early and kicking his heels he enters the sacred space and his eyes light up at the stain glass windows and the bible who would have thought it would have come to thiswhere a hospital visit is really all he has and all he islike when he was a boy he used to go thereand feel at home were he would say a little prayer ahhhand he sits down in the front pew and alone he reads a few chapters and is relieved that there's no one else there and afterwards he returns to the corridors of the hospital and remembers how these spaces were always his refuge where his mum worked and he felt a strange sense of belonging that nowhere else gave him maybe because when he went he was injured and they had to care they had to see him well that's crude and reductive he thought but maybe there's something just a little something to it and he looks hard at the prints on the walls and wonders why there's art here but in few places outside galleries who would have thought it would have come to thiswhere a hospital visit is really all he has and all he islike when he was a boy he used to go thereand feel at home were he would say a little prayer ahhhand he thinks that he once wanted to be an artist and a poet and a novelist and he smiles inwardly at that because really what he is is this slow wandering character who has blown a life and now is hanging around in hospitals waiting to be patched up so he can linger a little longer and he shakes his head when the doctor asks him if he has anything to add because he never has anything to add who would have thought it would have come to thiswhere a hospital visit is really all he has and all he islike when he was a boy he used to go thereand feel at home were he would say a little prayer ahhh and this is perhaps the best day of his week because here he had somewhere to go someone asked him to rather than having to make something up for himself and when he leaves he watches the traffic and the people flowing and steps into that flow and disappears againwho would have thought it would have come to thiswhere a hospital visit is really all he has and all he islike when he was a boy he used to go thereand feel at home were he would say a little prayer he's sat in a corner of the old barand remembers friends he hasn't seen for yearsso no longer friends I guess time too farand space too oh how strange everything appearsits time that reminds us what we have losttime that shows us what our future costand time can bring us the reckoning that can save us from loneliness beckoninghe is waiting for someone and can't help feeling fearthat someday this will too end and disappear so when she sits down in front of him buried in her own careshe feels such tenderness and stops and staresits time that reminds us what we have losttime that shows us what our future costand time can bring us the reckoning that can save us from loneliness beckoningthen gets her a drink and listens to every story she tellsand laughs and smiles and frowns as if listening to spellsand the enchantment goes right back to those olden dayswhen perhaps he was careless and lost people called it a phaseits time that reminds us what we have losttime that shows us what our future costand time can bring us the reckoning that can save us from loneliness beckoninghe ends up walking up the hill with her and feels blessedand no matter what decides he's going to hold on to this in his breasta feeling of warmth and love and connectionsomething delicate and fragile needing protectionits time that reminds us what we have losttime that shows us what our future costand time can bring us the reckoning that can save us from loneliness beckoning ahhh he sits in the airport and orders a beer and sits and suddenly it dawns on him that he's not going to see her any more and he sips his drink he's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friendahhh and watches a crowd of strangers loudly chatting and he's amazed at their crushing happiness and energy oh they seem so excited just because they've got this far and he stares away from their hustle and bustle and reflects on his quiet quiet utterlessness and solitariness and never thought it would be like thishe's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friendahhh that by now he thought maybe he'd have found what he was searching for and kept it because that's his own amazement that he found her when everything seemed impossible and yet here he was here he was sitting alone in a bar drinking a beer he's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friendahhh and the planes through the windows never seemed so lonely like they were the promise of disquiet and separation they were the machines pulling him apart and yes he felt he was being torn into pices and he squeezed the arm of the chair just to ensure he didn't collapse to the floor and all he could think of was how he wanted to rush back rush back and take her in his arms and go back with her he's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friendahhh but of course he's as still as a stone and as silent even though there's never been a shrieking and shouting so loud as those screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming in his head his ordinary immobile head. He finally swallows another sip of the drink and turns his head away and fixes on the glittering bottles and glasses behind the bartenders head and notices how the guys head is longer than he would have expected and this is a distraction and he reflects that his whole life became a sequence of distractions as if he was putting off the important thing for later and now ah it was too late too late and then he walks unsteadily to his plane and flies away as sad as sorrow can be like he's in hellhe's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friend and when he arrives home hours later he's just in a daze that will last as it always does and inside just terrible pain and emptiness forever.he's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friendahhh he's always always moving and always wondering when this will ever endwhen somehow someone will love him and take him as her love and friend slow days smoke down into slow evenings and nightthere's a the odd call of a strange bird and a strange lighta tight feeling in the throat as you sip at your cheap boozeand sleep doesn't come and anything gained you losein the hours before dawn, between midnight you stare at your screen and the window and nothing feels right.time without you is time without mercy and I'm not complainingso much as just calling it as it is, Not sure what's remainingafter all these times that have passed me byit's that time again when it's late and your soul wants to cry midnight is blue and dark and awkward because it remainseach night as reliable as the next days sun when the light namesthe day and its as if nothing has happened or changednothing is never nothing though and what is gainedis that graveyard thought and that serious feelingleaves you wanting one more for the road the night's concealingtime without you is time without mercy and I'm not complainingso much as just calling it as it is, Not sure what's remainingafter all these times that have passed me byit's that time again when it's late and your soul wants to cry its got late again and the people have gone their faces blurring and then not anywhere at all. We're put through our paceslike being tested but no one no one ever keeps score you never know who to turn to and how to do anymorethan wait for midnight and the hours to pass againand to go home at last because this is this all the sametime without you is time without mercy and I'm not complainingso much as just calling it as it is, Not sure what's remainingafter all these times that have passed me byit's that time again when it's late and your soul wants to cryyea it really istime without you is time without mercy and I'm not complainingso much as just calling it as it is, Not sure what's remainingafter all these times that have passed me byit's that time again when it's late and your soul wants to cry well once a week I walk on the heathand she has a little child like an angel beneathall the stars and suns and moonsand she's strange like that monster from the strangest lagoon I have days of the week and after a while yearsdon't lock my door and never dry my tearsam a little odd in a human kind of waywell I live a little life and do it day by day by dayahhh well once a week I stay inside and reada book by the one who saw the ruins of Saint Lo bleedanother about a boy who became an insectwell afterwards I reckon everyone's got a bit that's been wreckedI have days of the week and after a while yearsdon't lock my door and never dry my tearsam a little odd in a human kind of waywell I live a little life and do it day by day by dayahhh well once a week I greet a stranger as a friendand we talk about all things under the sun and sendlove letters with a secret sort of signneither of us can afford to pay any mindI have days of the week and after a while yearsdon't lock my door and never dry my tearsam a little odd in a human kind of waywell I live a little life and do it day by day by dayahhh well once a week a week maybe every damn dayI walk for miles through worlds not a word to saynot a person to meet not a wandering stareating berries from a nature not going too farwell once a week when the sun is going downI sit outside and make calls and watch the townpeople coming home after a long day doing thingsand then crawl up to my room and wait for what nightime bringsI have days of the week and after a while yearsdon't lock my door and never dry my tearsam a little odd in a human kind of waywell I live a little life and do it day by day by day am walking down the long long roadmaybe I'll get to the end maybe stop being coldmaybe I'll catch a glimpse beyond the dark hedgemaybe someone will be coming not looking for revengewalking along with a spring in my stepor hardly moving at all as if on the great Russian Steppein hail or shine or fog or rhymeI'm walking along oh please please be mine haam walking round the corner and hearing the timeand the sound of footsteps but they're not always mine there's always one of dust and memories thereplaying hide and seek or taking a darewalking along with a spring in my stepor hardly moving at all as if on the great Russian Steppein hail or shine or fog or rhymeI'm walking along oh please please be mine haam standing at a crossroads and can see both ways clearand don't really know which is the way and sure feel a little fearand wish she was here to hold my hand just to showthat this journey is not just mine and not just where I gowalking along with a spring in my stepor hardly moving at all as if on the great Russian Steppein hail or shine or fog or rhymeI'm walking along oh please please be mine haam walking up the hill and seeing a destinationits got a spire and a door and a loving situationthat's as strange and impossible as can beand two spirits living there going as far as the eye can seewalking along with a spring in my stepor hardly moving at all as if on the great Russian Steppein hail or shine or fog or rhymeI'm walking along oh please please be mine she reads books day by day and sometimesimagines she lived in them in different timessometimes wonders what it would be like to livelike her heroines and what she would have to giveshe's on a turning world screaming through the universeon a roller coaster of a life that makes her oh so nervousand bites her lip and her eyes are open wide with fearand she shakes her head and drinks a little wine or beer she watches shows on the screen and askswho she would be when the drama unmasksand all the razzle and dazzle it makes her thinkwhy she never tried never dared to rethinkshe's on a turning world screaming through the universeon a roller coaster of a life that makes her oh so nervousand bites her lip and her eyes are open wide with fearand she shakes her head and drinks a little wine or beer and she dresses in the morning and undresses at nightknows where her body is buried and lives in plain sightwednesday is for this thursday for thatand so it goes on and on as if everything's just a matter of factshe's on a turning world screaming through the universeon a roller coaster of a life that makes her oh so nervousand bites her lip and her eyes are open wide with fearand she shakes her head and drinks a little wine or beer and she even reads her bible with an orderly motionand doesn't wonder if she could read it and make a commotionsee things a new way maybe take off the glossor add new fancies see heaven as hell without gloom and lossshe's on a turning world screaming through the universeon a roller coaster of a life that makes her oh so nervousand bites her lip and her eyes are open wide with fearand she shakes her head and drinks a little wine or beer where were you, when I was falling where were you when my life was stallingand bitter truths were coming home to roostand those who were tight suddenly came all looseand who was it came running over the hill to take a handwell you see them far off and you know they understand like you but at the end of the trial when alls done and dustedyou never came, never reached out so you'll never be loved or trustedwhere were you when I needed a shoulder to cry onwhere were you when I needed someone to rely onand calls weren't returned and friends were coldand what had once been the start ended and turned oldand who was it came running over the hill to take a handwell you see them far off and you know they understandlike you but at the end of the trial when alls done and dustedyou never came, never reached out so you'll never be loved or trustedwhere were you when I was falling to pieceswhen that sense of spinning out of control increasesand sleep isn't easy but its harder being awakethe limits been reached and I knew there was no more I could takeand who was it came running over the hill to take a handwell you see them far off and you know they understandlike you but at the end of the trial when alls done and dustedyou never came, never reached out so you'll never be loved or trustedwhere were you when all the doors were closingwhere were you when betrayal was decomposingand days were twisted and turnedeverything bitter abusive and absurd where did you go when catastrophe stares me in the facewhere did you go when you saw your friend all over the placeand you knew you're seeing the tracks of her tearsand are face to face with her darkest her worst fearsand who was it came running over the hill to take a handwell you see them far off and you know they understand like you but at the end of the trial when alls done and dustedyou never came, never reached out so you'll never be loved or trusted souls with feathers smothered in bloodthe violent the tortured isn't the opposite of loveand desire's a ghost floating through spacea memory of limbs and twists and cries and a tormented faceI'll take the final step and leave this damned earthwill rise above or dive below loves a new birthbodies of the dust and strange strange wildnesslet me steal you forever I'm love's unkindnessout on the storm ripped howling moor is loveand its as evil and blessed and holy and goodsuicide in the upper room or leaping from the bridgethis is love when its love and purely what it isI'll take the final step and leave this damned earthwill rise above or dive below loves a new birthbodies of the dust and strange strange wildnesslet me steal you forever I'm love's unkindnessand jealousy is the wolf tooth and jaw rivals you have to watch your back and its a warwhere the brain explodes like a million starsthis is the cosmos breaking this is jupiter and marsI'll take the final step and leave this damned earthwill rise above or dive below loves a new birthbodies of the dust and strange strange wildnesslet me steal you forever I'm love's unkindnessyou see the sweat on my brow and the bone my skullthe vampire who has never lived until his love was fulland drained her of every other way of beinga blindness take my eyes rip to pieces ordinary seeingsacred flames with no priests but stripped naked and deadto anything else there's a glory in the corpse your sempiturnal headlet me fight you down and down and in our tearseverything will end in love and sex and death and fearI'll take the final step and leave this damned earthwill rise above or dive below loves a new birthbodies of the dust and strange strange wildnesslet me steal you forever I'm love's unkindness I walk through the rainlisten to Sinatra on the player playingand drink a small whisky in a placewhere no one recalls your faceThere's always a forlorn trailand you walk it without failand you stay numb and paleand live a little just to tell your tale late afternoon do some sittingwatch an old film time permittingha as if there was anything pressingI'm looking for some truth to be expressingThere's always a forlorn trailand you walk it without failand you stay numb and paleand live a little just to tell your tale I remember same old same oldfrom time ago when young and boldthought the world was my oysterwas going to conquer like all boys wereThere's always a forlorn trailand you walk it without failand you stay numb and paleand live a little just to tell your tale well days have changed and that's all doneand it wasn't to be and nothing's new under the sunand what we are is just a little olderand wish we'd been just a little bolderWhat went wrong? well nothing reallyit's just what life is it's always going to end up being a little sillyand so I buy an ice cream even though I'm shakingand kick my heels and listen to my heart breakingThere's always a forlorn trailand you walk it without failand you stay numb and paleand live a little just to tell your taleyesThere's always a forlorn trailand you walk it without failand you stay numb and paleand live a little just to tell your tale