1. True Love Will Never Fade 4:21
true love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade I wonder if there’s no forever - no walking hand in hand down a yellow brick road to never-never land These days I get to where I’m going - make it there eventually follow the trail of breadcrumbs to where I’m meant to be to where I’m meant to be I don’t know what brought you to me that was up to you There’s so many come to see me who want their own tattoo I fixed a needle in the holder laid my hand upon your spine and there upon your shoulder I drew the picture as your sign When I think about us I see the picture that we made the picture to remind us true love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade I work the rowdies and day-trippers Now and then I think of you Any which way we’re all shuffling forward in the queue They’d like to move my operation They’d like to get me off the pier And I dream I’m on a steamer pulling out of here When I think about us I see the picture that we made the picture to remind us true love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade True love will never fade
the scaffolder's wife The scaffolder’s wife driving out of the yard with a face that’s as hard as a scaffolder’s bar - when she goes into town she might take the top down on the car The quick little steps in the stiletto boots and the hair with the roots She comes in as a rule to get the nails done and the tan for the sun when the kids are in school Don’t begrudge her the Merc it’s been nothing but work and a hard life Losing her looks over company books - the scaffolder’s wife In the wicked old days when they went it alone kept the company going on a wing and a prayer They don’t pay what they owe when they have the cash flow - they don’t care Don’t begrudge her the Merc it’s been nothing but work and a hard life Losing her looks over company books - the scaffolder’s wife
the fizzy and the still Sunday morning, here we are The boy’s come home not quite the movie star He’s been in Hollywood The boy’s come home The boy’s done good He says she asked too high a price neglecting to declare what sits between them there on ice, chilled, with the fizzy and the still: he tried but didn’t make it there ‘It’s not for me It’s not for me’ Sunday papers, here we are The boy’s come home The boy’s come home
heart full of holes You can tell me your troubles I’ll listen for free My regulars trust me, it seems You can come and see Uncle to get through the week leave your pledges with me to redeem Some folk sell their bodies for ten bob a go Politicians go pawning their souls Which doesn’t make me look too bad, don’t you know me, with my heart full of holes All my yesterdays broken a watch with no face all battered and old Bits of the movement all over the place and a heart full of holes A heart full of holes A heart full of holes Brass knuckles and banjos are out on the town at the knees-up in Teddy Boys’ Row The gold block and tackle tells the time upside down Rock n’ roll - well, I don’t know Dead people’s wedding gifts walk out the door A clarinet squeals to be free Accordions hop from the shelves to the floor - start playing their polkas to me There’s a ringing of bells a dunderhead’s curse Fingers are pointing at you And you take work in hell and be glad it’s not worse and you get to the back of the queue Handcuffs and hunting knives clang on the bars Air pistols shoot out the lights I’ve a whole Wailing Wall of electric guitars could shatter the windows down Brick Lane tonight If one of us dies, love I think I’ll retire see my boys and my beautiful girls A Garden of Eden no gates or barbed wire who knows, maybe gates made of pearls Well, if we go to heaven and some say we don’t but if there’s a reckoning day please God, I’ll see you and maybe I won’t I’ve a bag packed to go either way Redeeming your pledge, dear I’ll keep it for you It’s not going to go anywhere But your soul, your soul that is not what I do There’s not a lot I can do there I remember the officer’s watch in my hand: ‘Repair it or die’ I was told It’s a wonder to me - I still don’t understand why I ever survived to be old with a heart full of holes A heart full of holes A heart full of holes
we can get wild We’re old enough for leaving home the old joanna and the old trombone It’s all going on I’m growing my sideboards long And you and me can be who we want to be Listen now, right here It’s going to be a beautiful year They’re calling it the teenage scene and I have a dream Don’t know if I’ll be a star but I’m going to play guitar I’ve seen this rocking cat Oh, I want to be just like that Listen now, right here It’s going to be a beautiful year Hey, look at you, baby Tell your daddy you’re no child Hey, look at you, baby We can get wild We’ll be on our own Billy Fury on the gramophone Take you to the pictures and a dance Me in my drainpipe pants Check the mirror and the old DA And you can play in a day Listen now, right here It’s going to be a beautiful year Hey, look at you, baby Tell your daddy you’re no child Hey, look at you, baby We can get wild
the scaffolder's wife The scaffolder’s wife driving out of the yard with a face that’s as hard as a scaffolder’s bar - when she goes into town she might take the top down on the car The quick little steps in the stiletto boots and the hair with the roots She comes in as a rule to get the nails done and the tan for the sun when the kids are in school Don’t begrudge her the Merc it’s been nothing but work and a hard life Losing her looks over company books - the scaffolder’s wife In the wicked old days when they went it alone kept the company going on a wing and a prayer They don’t pay what they owe when they have the cash flow - they don’t care Don’t begrudge her the Merc it’s been nothing but work and a hard life Losing her looks over company books - the scaffolder’s wife
punish the monkey They’re driving long nails into coffins You’ve been having sleepless nights You’ve gone as quiet as a church mouse and checking on your rights The boss has hung you out to dry And it looks as though they’ll punish the monkey and let the organ grinder go You’ve been talking to a lawyer Are you going to to pretend that you and your employer are still the best of friends? Somebody’s going to take the fall There’s your quid pro quo They’ll punish the monkey and let the organ grinder go Here comes a policeman He won’t be sidetracked He’s asking about a smoking gun He’s after the facts It’s a quiet life from here on in You’ve dropped your poison cup The telephone is ringing But you’re not picking up Time’s up, Sir Lord Flunkey And everybody knows they’ll punish the monkey and let the organ grinder go
let it all go When it’s pop goes the weasel let go of the easel You don’t want this rickety rackety life It’s seat of the trousers It’s all sink or swim, son I’d kill to get crimson on this palette knife And I’d steal in a minute I’m up to here in it You here behaving as though I’m a saint Get a job with a pension Don’t ever mention you once had a craving for the brushes and paint So go, forget it, let it all go let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Let it all go A hack writer judges my swipes and my smudges he doesn’t like pictures with blotches and blots The drawing room tea set wants horses, sunsets sweet nothings - the seaside with yachts Here’s the end of the thirties no time for arties over in Poland a right old to-do So go join the navy the air force or the army They’ll all be enrolling young fellows like you So go, forget it, let it all go let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Let it all go These are not my decisions flaming visions ringing expressions the clamouring voice It’s volcanic desire the unquenchable fire It isn’t a question of having the choice Anyway, now I’m old but if you won’t be told if you’ve been created to answer the call all passion and lust is going to end in the dust but you’ll hang on some government gallery wall You must go, forget it let it all go, let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Go, forget it let it all go, let it all go Go, forget it, let it all go Let it all go
behind with the rent This didn’t used to be me, old boy This isn’t what I’d want pulling old night fighters in a restaurant There’s smoke and flames behind me where the self-respect all went and I’m behind, behind with the rent I’ve been stitched up like a kipper, old son but I won’t be again Hell hath no fury Oh, I’m like a lot of men Now I’m stalking this old Doris with lascivious intent and I’m behind, behind with the rent Just a little duck and dive and a bit of wheel and deal She’ll remind me I’m alive She’ll remind me I still feel Just a little shelling out for a bit of you-know-what I know this is all about something that I never got Well this crumpet’s past it’s sell-by-date but they all would qualify They’re going to be lonely and be happy to comply She knows that I’m a chancer coming on like a gent but I’m behind, behind with the rent Yes, I’m behind, behind with the rent
the fish and the bird When I gave my heart to a tinker boy he said a fish could love a swallow And I will go with my travelling man Wherever he goes I will follow He will mend your pots and pans Your kitchen knives he’ll take and sharpen Then I’ll be gone with my travelling man and never more your doorway darken The fish and the bird who fall in love will find no place to build a home in The fish and the bird who fall in love are bound forever to go roaming
madame geneva’s I’m a maker of ballads right pretty I write them right here in the street You can buy them all over the city yours for a penny a sheet I’m a word pecker out of the printers I’ll write up a scene on a counter - confessions and sins in the main, boys confessions and sins in the main Then you’ll find me in Madame Geneva’s keeping the demons at bay There’s nothing like gin for drowning them in but they’ll always be back on a hanging day They come rattling over the cobbles they sit on their coffins of black Some are struck dumb, some gabble top-heavy on brandy or sack The pews are all full of fine fellows and the hawker has set up her shop As they’re turning them off at the gallows she’ll be selling right under the drop, boys selling right under the drop Then you’ll find me in Madame Geneva’s keeping the demons at bay There’s nothing like gin for drowning them in but they’ll always be back on a hanging day
in the sky Are you home from the sea, my soul balladeer You’ve been away roaming far away from here weathered a storm, your heart unafraid crossed every ocean in the boat that you made Been blowing your horn, scaring the spooks No crotchets or quavers in your books Gone sailing all night, straight in the vein like a bird on his own flight in his domain in the sky Running in on the tide with the first of the stars the moon on the water and the sound of guitars Glide into the homing as the night falls to tie up in the haven by the old harbour wall And the hard-bitten stranger as deaf as a post who stands at the fire where a poet’s dreams roast He can’t know the story, he can’t feel the pain and all of the glory falls around him like rain in the sky You’re a light in the dark, a beacon of hope and strong as a sea boat, strong as a rope And the vagabond wind, whispers over the bay and the songs and the laughter, are carried away in the sky
Mark Knopfler: vocals and guitars Guy Fletcher: keyboards Glenn Worf: bass guitar and string bass Danny Cummings: drums and percussion Additional musicians: Ian Lowthian: accordion John McCusker: violin and cittern Frank Ricotti: vibes Chris White: flute, saxophone and clarinet Steve Sidwell: trumpet
Recorded at British Grove Studios, London Produced by Mark Knopfler, Guy Fletcher and Chuck Ainlay Engineered by Guy and Chuck, assisted by Rich Cooper Mastered by Bob Ludwig at Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine All songs written by Mark Knopfler (Will D. Side Ltd) Published by Will D. Side Ltd / Hornall Bros Music Ltd Mark Knopfler uses D'Addario strings Cover Image: Four Lambrettas and Three Portraits of Janet Churchman by John Bratby (1928-1992) painted in 1958
Year: 2007 Format: CD Label: Mercury Records Reference No: 1742072 Songs: 12 Total Time: 56:58
