Diesel words and music: Simon Bourke IMRO/ASCAP Busking the Butterlsip Me and a travelling girl She has her baby like I have my accordion Inlaid with mother of pearl She's at the bottom and I'm at the top of the stairs I'm selling my soul She's selling her prayers Waiting on company Me and my Mexican drinks She is a riddle wrapped up in a mystery Like the smile of the Sphinx Looks like she ain't coming But it's one way of passing the time Swallowing pride with salt and bitter-sweet lime Cruising the ring road Me and my Japanese car If I had a track rod, a brake shoe or a wishbone I'd be melting the tar Lord of the Layby King of the Ring Road look down I gotta find her 'fore she and her baby leave town Broke down this side of the border Disillusioned and lost I see the ghost of our age In a haze of exhaust They call her diesel Her hair like a new copper coil Her lips are the red of a stop light Her eyes black as oil Busted in Newbridge Remanded on 40 pounds bail Listed for Tuesday but I ain't waiting For Justice to balance her scale I ain't waiting for a bus, I ain't waiting for a train First whiff of diesel I'm hitting the road once again Everything's got to be somewhere By morning somehow Everyone wants to be anywhere But here and now They call her diesel Her hair like a new copper coil Her eyes are the red of a stop light Her eyes black as oil Back on the Butterslip No travelling girl She has her baby and my accordion I got nothing in the world I'm at the bottom as low As a body can go But Diesel will beckon I reckon I'm back on the road Yeh Diesel will beckon I reckon I'm back on the road

Heart in a Sling: Words and music Simon Bourke IMRO/ASCAP I saw you standing At the end of the road I guess you waited I guess he never showed Why do you do that That thing that you do? I've told you before If you stand at his door He's gonna wipe his feet on you So don't come round here With your heart in a sling Telling me he's To blame for everything Don't turn to me Twisting my ear Please don't unpack your baggage here Don't limp around On your broken pride bone Ain't I got worries enough of my own? You had your chance Leave me alone I caught you crying When you thought you were alone I guess you called him And he hung up the phone Why do you do that That thing that you do? I told you before If you crawl across his floor He's gonna walk all over you So don't come round here With your heart in a sling Telling me he's To blame for everything Don't turn to me Twisting my ear Please don't unpack your baggage here Don't limp around On your broken pride bone Ain't I got worries enough of my own? I’m not your crutch Leave me alone So don't come round here With your heart in a sling Telling me he's To blame for everything Don't turn to me Twisting my ear Please don't unpack your baggage here Don't limp around On your broken pride bone Ain't I got worries enough of my own? You had your chance Leave me alone

Sometime before morning Words and music: Simon Bourke IMRO/ASCAP I'm lying here stroking Your impassive skin I'm listening to the tiny ticking sound Of the minute tonic bubbles In your forsaken gin I'm counting dreams crashing to the ground I'm lying here smoking Weighed down by chains You're too close for comfort It's too hot to sleep We've got iron in our souls And rust in our veins And love's leaden wings are too tired to sleep CHORUS Some time before morning I will dream you young again And fool myself into loving you The way that I did then Some time before morning Why don't you dream me in my prime? Then wake up and make love to me Like that one more time We've been climbing a mountain Pushing dreams as big as boulders The higher you push them the further they fall It's time to stop crying and Cursing our bruised shoulders Let broken down hopes lie just where they sprawl CHORUS Everything concrete Will crumble to dust Metal will perish and timber will rot All that you're left with Are the things you can't touch Love ain't all you need But it's all that you've got CHORUS

Flower Of The Swan Words and music, Simon Bourke IMRO/ASCAP The sirens are wailing The blue lights are flailing A car wreck is blazing Out in The Swan Look for the lady Who's driving them crazy Don't look for Jasmine Jasmine is gone CHORUS It's out to Firoda And back to Bilboa On to Little Moscow And Gazebo I've gone For one trace or token To hear her name spoken Jasmine, Jasmine Flower of The Swan Her laughter still taunts me The scent of her haunts me The fire still smoulders In her smoke-coloured eyes My fingers are dreaming Of walking the shoreline Where sand-coloured nylon Laps sweat-salted thighs CHORUS It's out to Firoda And back to Bilboa On to Little Moscow And Gazebo I've gone For one trace or token To hear her name spoken Jasmine, Jasmine Flower of The Swan Flower of The Swan What have you done? Your anthracite hair I swear Has crazied everyone If you should meet her Tell her I beat her Say I survived her Say I endured Tell her I'm sober Since a year last October Tell her I'm over her Tell her I'm cured CHORUS It's out to Firoda And back to Bilboa On to Little Moscow And Gazebo I've gone To hear her name spoken To see her arms broken Jasmine, Jasmine Flower of The Swan

Marbleville words and music Simon Bourke Sad as a willow, tall as a pine She was the very first tree I ever climbed She was the very first lake I ever swam When I was a young river, I met my first dam From the Arcon zinc mine to Ferrymountgarret From the brickyards at Comer to the bridge at Fiddown Nobody knows me, the way that she knows me I pray that she never leaves old Marbletown Hours beyond number I stood at her gate Counted the cobblestones, counted the slates She kissed my swollen lips until they were sore Then she'd kiss them better and we'd kiss some more From the pitheads at Ballingarry to the lime kilns at Ballyellen From the Budweiser brewery and 40 miles round Nobody loves me the way that she loves me Now she's talking of leaving old Marbletown I went to London and she did the same These things just happen and no one's to blame Everything one did, the other did worse I have dug a dozen love-graves but hers was the first From the King's River mills to the stook of Mt Leinster From the docks at Rosbercon to the crown of Spa Hill No one will ever love me the way that she loves me And I'll die if she ever leaves old Marbleville