The Prince Of My Tribe

from Austral Weeks by Duncan Graham And His Co-Accused

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lyrics

I hear that you’ve got a dump out on the highway
Someone said something about ‘growing you own’
Jill saw you at a show, but you slipped out sideways
She could tell, by the beard, that you wre living alone

I know that I lost you when I had to get on with my life
Now, I’m not so sure that it was worth all the tears
I’m still trying to break my own heart
Trying to slice it right out with my knife
But each cut releases a ghost from the back of my years

Do you remember that house we had, down in St Kilda
Where the boys used to blow in just like the breeze?
You had Tom the piper’s son, and I had Bob the builder
(How we laughed at the way that he’d dance without bending his knees!)

That was the time when I should not have had the next drink
(I’m still choking on that last sip of my wine)
You said: “ Get rid of Bob, and I’ll get rid of Tom
And we’ll run right down to the sea”
But I was too wasted to bother untangling the line

When the afternoon’s ageing, as afternoons are itching to do
I grab my Washburn, my drugs and my bottle of wine
I sit down and wait for the magic hour
When the ghosts come marching through
(Maybe some of them faces will come close to mine)

I pick out the chords of After The Gold Rush
And the (C, F, G, A minor) Sweet Jane
And if you can hear me and forget about that old, old stuff
We can dance that time back over again

Jimmy is still kept hostage by his voices
And Billy’s found his castle right down in the sand
No prizes for guessing that Annie’s still making bad choices
And John’s still trapped in the backline of that shit seventies band

And what about you? Do you ever think of the times?
Do you ever ache to be back by my side?
I will keep sending out these indiscriminate rhymes
I’ll put on my ghost shirt, and dance up the prince of ny tribe

credits

from Austral Weeks, released November 25, 2009

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