Thirty-three and a third They forced the door And found in the bed-sit The pulsing hook-line Of diamond on vinyl The arms still ploughing The run-out spiral The lost module Of cartridge and stylus In captured orbit Around the spindle A looped circling Whirl-pooling Swansong That died as they craned up The weightless needle And lowered him down On...Learn More

The oak, the oak, and his new green coat Such soul and hurt And the last to moult But all you were after was timber and smoke So it's true, the redwings are here again Dusk and dawn tucked under their wings Oh, Stockholm with your iron trees We must not say what the redwings mean (I saw your soul I saw your soul) The ash, the ash She was handing...Learn More