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David Bridie
lyrics and album credits



SUCCUMB

SO MANY LIES
SUCCUMB
GOING OUT WITH THE ENEMY
THE FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT
FALLING DOWN
RASKOL DUSTY
THIS YEAR IS BETTER THAN LAST YEAR
SWIRL (WRAPPED AROUND YOUR HEART)
FIRST CHAPTER (HEARTS ARE HEAVY)
ANTI-CHASE MUSIC 2
TOO MUCH SUPERSTITION (DEVIL WILL TAKE YOUR SOUL)

Lyrics published by Mushroom Music Publishing. Reprinted with permission.




SO MANY LIES

(Bridie)

It's not enough just to succeed
You must rely on somebody failing
In competition you trick and you lie
What goes around may come back in spades

His master's voice, labour in vain
There's little time for accumulating
If nothing's ventured then nothing is gained
It's in the way you've been speculating

So many lies that we haven't used yet
So many lies we haven't used yet

We're income driven, incentive led
Can't blame a bloke for just getting ahead
Now can you blame a sportsman for just lining his bed
Turn his back on all consequences

And the way we go about this, it's not any better
We've dumbed down for so long we cannot tell what is clever

So many lies that we haven't used yet
So many lies we haven't used yet

Is the darkness in the sky from the weather or war?
Nobody knows who's setting the standards
Don't have to tell us the story again
We've worked it all out just for ourselves

So many lies that we haven't used yet
So many lies we haven't used yet
We've got so many lies we haven't used yet
So many lies we haven't used
So many lies, so many lies




SUCCUMB

(Bridie)

We used to feel each other's sadness
Used to heal each other's pain
Used to ride each other's ups and downs
First down then up again

We used to cry out loud in sympathy
Used to offer up protection
Always knowing what we had on offer wouldn't cure the pain

Oh we fight and we breathe
We waste away, try hard to believe
But we'll never succumb

These days we hardly notice
Seem to be preoccupied
Don't hear much beyond the front fence
We got that entertainment system up too loud

When the fighting starts up next door
Hear the cry of fear come through the floor
We turn away, can't hear a sound
Can't do much to turn things around

Oh we fight and we breathe
We waste away, try hard to believe
But we'll never succumb

'Oh Vanity,' the preacher said
'Is evident in all young men.'
Flying the flag, pumped up on parade
A parody of the diggers they'd like to emulate

Make up slogans with different meaning
Religious paintings on the ceiling
Grow the front hedge 6 feet high
Convince your kids one day they'll fly

Oh we fight and we breathe
We waste away, try hard to believe
But we'll never succumb




GOING OUT WITH THE ENEMY

(Bridie)

Oh yeah, don't leave without me

Down by the tributary
That's where you'll find me
Watching all the clutter flow

I jump out into the whitewater
Don't want to but think I oughta
Two miles past the black waterhole

And I sleep so comfortably
This was always meant to be
We don't move for 48 hours

And there's no patriots round here
There are none of those that we fear
I'm going that way

I'm going out with the enemy
Lost part of my dignity
Deep inside Guantanamo Bay

The dizzy spin is fast, do we
Learn from this disaster
If not, I'm in one hell of a bind

And I have been praying for years
And I have been waiting for years

I'll vote for you, come pray for me
I'm with you on the economy
Come vote for me, I'll pray for you
Going out with the enemy

Down by the tributary
That's where you'll find me
Watching all the clutter flow

And I have been waiting for years




THE FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT

(Bridie/Scallan)

For Mark Worth
Lyrics inspired by eulogies from Ben Bohane, Mark Davis and Jim Elmslie

They placed him in a cargo box
Six feet in the ground
With a bottle of whiskey,
"White light White heat" by the Velvet Underground
His life rich with kino stories
Maps of lands impassable
He was five parts patience, one part bluster…with the radio on

His life was spent deciphering, then scrambling the code
He wasn't always reasonable, he had this story to be told
If the currency of life is stories of conviction collected on the run
Then he lived his short life much more than most, the bible or the gun

Foreign Correspondent's gone, to a dead man's party
The Foreign Correspondent's gone, to a dead man's party

The foreign correspondent's fallen through the rotten floor
No doubt things around these parts won't be the same any more
His life was spent, he'd made his film, a story no-one else had told
His eyes gazed, liver broke, drank and told his final joke at…. the dead man's party

Foreign Correspondent's gone, to a dead man's party

He ducked the bullets at high speed on the rebel Gyzo run
The coconut fuelled tin boat ran the blockade and the PNGDF guns
This kind of passion's out of style, won't see his like for quite a while
He's gone off to walk the crooked mile

Foreign Correspondent's gone, to a dead man's party

Traditional West Papuan Song from Manokwari, West Papua




FALLING DOWN
(Bridie)

The dry surface torn, all these people tired
The message got lost somewhere along the wire
Now it may not seem that confusing now
But you just wait, wait until tomorrow

Falling down falling down
That man there, the laughing clown
He feels the laughter, hears no sound
He knows it must be somewhere
Whatever you say whatever you say
Whatever you say, hears no sound
He knows it must be somewhere around

Let's build a bonfire, three floors high
Watch it burn madly raised to the sky
Just get rent a crowd to come on by
Turn it into a scene

The windmill's turning
Barely makes it round
The water is dirty cold brown
Pumped from two miles beneath the ground

When you feel completely isolated
The soprano wind howls all through the night
Your husband is twitching, he's all agitated
Something not right
Thumbs push at your temple, dryness on your skin

Effort is tired fatigue setting in
Something is up
Whatever you say, it is if you say




RASKOL DUSTY

(Bridie)

They go this way, they go that way first
They leave you in their wake, they shout, they curse
They're lightning quick
Kick up the dirt
Raskol Dusty

Yeah these be highwaymen, rough adventure boys
They got their hands on these old wartime toys
You can hear them by the trail of noise
Raskol Dusty

They blacken their face with sweat coal and grease
Got names like Nightfox, Rambo, Sleaze
You can't see the boys for the mist in the trees
Raskol Dusty

And I….Raskol Dusty
Ghosts in the mountains, the ancestral caves
Police can't find them in their hideaway
Taim before masta in Tumbuna days
Raskol Dusty

Vanilla cash crop, coffee and graft
Been taught by experts the ones who left last
Never a dull moment see through their façade
Raskol dusty

The leaders name is Baby Stephen
He says 'Nightfox you're on operation'
The SDAs think he's a heathen
Raskol Dusty

They hoist the flag in the name of god
The polis are storming in
The govmen is cracking down
Their patience wearing thin

Olgeta man I save long yu
Shorty shorty I no meri
Olgeta man I save long yu
Shorty shorty I no meri




THIS YEAR IS BETTER THAN LAST YEAR
(Bridie)

This year'll be better than last year
I've got a good feeling bout it all
These things they go round in circles
Can't take this rubbish dump anymore

No more driving in circles, searching for the exit lanes
Because were so damn deserving
This year'll be better than last year

The goon squad fell last November
And what a fall that turned out to be
Out in the streets we're still dancing
Finally we got back our country

Twelve years felt like a lifetime
Never thought I'd see the day
We've booked the slow boat to Darwin
Because Darwin is so far away
Save it for a rainy day
A ship sank on the horizon
We just sat and watched it go down
No point in blaming the neighbours
You can't blame them cos they aint home
Push polling on the telephone
Push polling on the telephone

This year'll be better than last year
This year'll be better than last year

You don't have to tell me the story
I've worked this one out for myself
Hanging from the walls and the ceilings
Are old maps and your wedding dress
Thursday time for reflection
Words always being misconstrued
I'm opting out of this hairshirt

This year'll be better than last year
This year'll be better than last year




SWIRL (WRAPPED AROUND YOUR HEART)
(Bridie/Phillips)

One hundred wildflowers grow out in the desert
They're sharp and bright coloured, tough rugged and dry
And I thought that I'd never find these faraway places
A glow in the darkness, a place you can dream

The sun's like a razor, it lives without mercy
It sucks all the water right out of your bones
It's a land without luxury, it's cold hearted and ruthless on small talk
Just listen it's still, it's something quite still

Your head is swimming just swirl you just swirl
Like barbed wire wrapped around your heart
Your head is swimming just swirl you just swirl
Like barbed wire wrapped around your heart
Wrapped around your heart

The man with a yearning lives over the mountain
He's harbouring convicts inside of his heart
When the night with its darkness, he's awake and he's listening
The camels moan, the wagons move on

Your head is swimming just swirl you just swirl
Like barbed wire wrapped around your heart
Your head is swimming just swirl you just swirl
Like barbed wire wrapped around your heart




FIRST CHAPTER (HEARTS ARE HEAVY)

(Bridie)

First chapter
This country's first chapter, it's a story of woe
And those who survived the ordeal never lie
The scars they run deep, and the family line broken
They'll exact their revenge when the timing is right

Second chapter
One thousand anthills all face the same way
In one last direction as if forced to pray
They're peasants; they're icons, they do as they're told
All turned by the pull from the iron ore hill

We sing our song
Even though our hearts are heavy
It won't take us long this time
Whilst we rewrite our history
How strong this will be
How strong this will be

Chapter three
Can't you feel the bruising of the first nation people
'Mongst the sickness country where law fades away
Where effort is marked, by trial and tribulation
There's so many stories, there's so much to say

The big north wind blows, down cowering we lie
In the tinder box garden, all swollen and dry
The plague of weird insects, they swarm over the fire
Race towards the city, three hundred miles an hour

We sing our song
Even though our hearts are heavy
It won't take us long this time
Whilst we rewrite our history
How strong this will be
How strong this will be in this big sky country

Chapter four
Put your ear to the ground, the land it is singing
The song that is old, it's as old as the hills
There's no other place that sings like this on earth
The silence is golden when you sleep on the ground

Came along sing our song
Even though our hearts are heavy
It won't take us long this time
Whilst we rewrite our history
How strong this will be
How strong this will be in this big sky country





ANTI-CHASE MUSIC 2
(Bridie)

Slow down your hurry, underscore
Bring it back a little, take it down one… no, even more
Glide down…easy does it…slowly you go
There's a side shift, bring it on, slow you go, slow you go

There's a buzz and a hum from the lights in the hall
The tap drips drip drip metal and small
I care for the small talk, there's meaning you know
In the inconsequential

The soft breath sound as you fall off to sleep
The unanswered telephone rings out to the street
The noise in my head won't leave me alone
The kids on the street, they play to the crowd

Slow down your hurry, underscore
Bring it back a little, take it down one… no, even more
Glide down… slowly you go
There's a side shift, bring it on, slow you go, slow you go

So sing me an anthem
Stand up straight and tall
With shouldering arms, rise with the horns
And wait until the fall

The prayers, the fight, the law, and we march head on

The wind hums through the melaleuca tree
Here it comes now
The October breeze

And the way that you breathe, the finish of your words
The rain comes down slowly, you hear it soft at first
I care for the small talk, there's meaning you know
Play some anti-chase music, sing it right down low

It'll change your day
It'll change your day
It'll change your day
The inconsequential




TOO MUCH SUPERSTITION (DEVIL WILL TAKE YOUR SOUL)
(Bridie)

They walk around in circles, round about the grave
They hide up in the mountains for 100 days
The mother sits bolt upright, shave off all her hair
Looks off to the distance madness in her glare
His body soaked in palm oil, washed with olive soap
Crushed coral and lime used to decorate the throat

Face decoration, betel nut and lime
Bathe the boy in coconut oil smooth and sublime
No point in self pity, no point being brave
No particular reason puts a young boy in his grave

25 women sing cascading down, sun i kamap sun i go daun
(sun i kamap sun i go daun)
Eh so misso randi
Ooh whatheri cure
Na muun
Ooh…ooh ya eh dari ah murray ah

Too much superstition, black magic abounds
Sun i kamap sun i go daun
Book of revelation, it may as well be fantasy land
Sun i kamap sun i go daun
If you believe in the kustom stories that your grandfather told
The bearded white guy will leave you behind
The devil will take your soul
(devil will take your soul, devil will take your soul)

On the toilet wall is a poster two roads i go where
Hell if do drums and dancing heaven is based on fear



Produced by Christian Scallan with David Bridie. Recorded at The Enormodome, The Soft Centre & Norman's shack in Blackwood, edge of the Wombat State Forest. Mixed by Christian Scallan at The Soft Centre. Engineered by Christian Scallan. Additional engineering by David Bridie & Tim Cole.

All songs written by David Bridie except track 8 written by David Bridie & John Phillips (Mushroom Music Publishing), track 4 written by David Bridie & Christian Scallan and track 6 written by David Bridie & Sina Sina village.

the band:
Airi Ingram – drums, garamuts, kundus
Christian Scallan – keyboards, programming
David Bridie – piano, analogue keyboards, vocals, pump organ
Paul Cartwright – bass, some guitar, backing vocals
Phil Wales – guitar (heaps of)
Greg Patten – drums

additional musicians:
Alan & Stephen Pigram (tiple guitar), Albert David (vocals), Bart Willoughby (vocals), Geoff Lierse (french horn), Graeme Leak (percussion), Hein Arumisore (vocals), Helen Mountfort (cello), John Bedggood (acoustic guitar), Karen Vogt (vocals), Lynne Hamilton (vocals), Nicole Shenko (vocals), Rob Craw (vocals), Xani Kolac (violin & vocals), brass section: Adam Hutterer (trombone), Ken Gardner (trumpet) & Matthew Habben (saxamaphone). Spensley Street Choir: Adeline Dotchin, Angelica Rios, Brigid Blakeney, Claire Woodward, Della Michie, Haezan Vroland, Jamil Wright, Jemima Crawford-Smith, Joshua McCormack, Martha Mildred-Short, Stella Bridie. Coordinated by Pam Westwood. Wire harmonics on 'First Chapter (Hearts Are Heavy)' recorded by Byron Scullin at Lake Tyrrell for Boorong Night Sky. Chimbu vocal on 'Raskol Dusty' by Gulupa Golkama, Kereka Kau. Cascading vocals in 'Too Much Superstition' sung by women from Luya village, recorded for the Bill Bennett film 'In a Savage Land' at Luya, Kiriwina, Trobriand Islands, PNG.

David Bridie is managed by Rachel Connor - bridie.music@gmail.com
Design by Samantha McFadden @ Amorphous9.
Band & back page photos by Martin Philbey taken at Charlie's Bar, Melbourne.
Booklet photos by Ben Bohane, Tim Cole, Fred Kroh & Samantha McFadden.

www.davidbridie.com.au
www.myspace.com/davidbridie
www.followthegeography.com
www.liberation.com.au

P & © 2008 Bridie Music. Licensed exclusively to Liberation Music for Australia & New Zealand. Made in Australia. All rights of the owner of copyright in this sound recording are reserved. Any copying, renting, lending, diffusion, public performance or broadcast of this record without the authority of the copyright owner is prohibited. LMCD0014

thanks to:
Lynne Hamilton, Winnie & Stella Bridie, Ross & Rosemary Bridie, Phillipa Overgaard, Jarvis, Nicole Shenko, Anna & Mea Ingram, Emma Rule & Eve Cartwright, Jon Casimir, Rik Nicholson, Warren & Paul Costello, Ian James, Julie Hodges, Jim Elmslie, George Telek, the Wantok Musik Foundation, Chris Gough, Bernard Galbally, Helen, Greg, Dean, Andrew, Jim, Hope, Xani, David Neitz, Austin Wonaeamirri, Lindsay Tanner, Steve Wheeler, E.B. Farnum & Richardson, Dee, Jack, Sue & Kim and Manfred the cat.

'The Foreign Correspondent' is dedicated to Mark Worth.