Hundred and Five Blues

Well, I think this is a song. It doesn’t have a tune yet – does that mean it isn’t a song yet? Help it be a song – give it some music and send me a copy…

Well, the Buddha’s in the Buddhafield
And Christ is in the church.
(They say that) Krishna’s in the temple;
Pan’s in the silver birch.
But, you know I can’t hear them whisper
I can’t hear them cry,
(Because) I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.

Well, I’ve been down to the ashram
And I’ve worn the orange robes.
I’ve closed my eyes and visualised
Seven spinning, shining globes.
But, you know it doesn’t change a single thing,
However much I try,
(Because) I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.

I’ve been painted green and wrestled,
I’ve worn a crown of thorns;
I’ve fought with sword and staff and axe
With the hunter and his horns.
But whether I’m the sacrifice
Or being carried up on high,
I still feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.

Now the Black Block’s throwing missiles
And the clowns are throwing flowers;
The police and politicians
Are invoking extra powers;
Now some folks are saying
that Armageddon’s surely nigh;
Oh man, I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And everyone’s gonna die…

The bank-man’s got me twisted,
He’s got me by the balls;
He sends a thousand letters
And makes a thousand calls.
I’m so goddamn broke it hurts,
And money just passes me by.
I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I wish that I could die.

Well, my woman’s gone half-crazy
At the terrible fix we’re in.
It’s all that I can do these days
To keep her from drowning in gin.
Coz you know it doesn’t help us,
If we drink or we get high.
Sweet mama, I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think we’re gonna die.

Well, my brother’s lost in Peebles,
My brother’s in Peru;
They’re both as broke as I am;
Ain’t nothing they can do.
I’m overloaded with all this talent,
But the well is running dry;
Lord, I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.

My books just can’t get published
All my story’s told for free;
I can’t afford to pay my rent;
Gonna live in a fucking tree.
But even that won’t help me
In a tree-house in the sky.
Ah shit, I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.

But cursing’s not the way ahead,
Nor moaning all the time;
No matter just how goddamn hard it gets,
It just seems to be a crime;
I’ll just keep treading onwards
You know it’s not a lie;
If I live ’til I’m a hundred and five,
well hoka hey, sweet mortal life,
I’ll give thanks and praise
Even in the pitch-black dark, because
One day I’m gonna die.

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5 thoughts on “Hundred and Five Blues

  1. Hey Tom I really, really like the above lyrics – yes, it does read as a blues number…!

    Also, any chance you can add some sections from the ‘Falcon’s Child’ here (the link to it shows ‘nothing here’)?
    I do remember it as a brilliant piece of writing…

    1. I was just re-reading this one today, Miriam. It makes me smile – I remember writing it in an over-priced soul-less cafe in Edinburgh, just after I’d finished re-writing The Falcon’s Child in 2008. I was so tired, I just wanted to curl up on the pavement – I’d used up all my reserves, I thought. But turning it into fuel, using it in another way, got me smiling, laughing to myself in the midst of the exhaustion. I never write songs, but this one made me think it might be a nice idea to try.

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