The following songs were written in 1994 in response to the proposal for a second runway. You can play the songs either by clicking on the streaming real audio version (lower quality) or the MP3 version which will take longer to download. If you wish to save the MP3 file when you have downloaded it, right click with your mouse on the "MP3" hyperlink and click "Save target as".
FAREWELL TO THE FIELDS - Words - Colin
Gates, Music - Dave Toye - (play song MP3 or Real Audio)*
I
walked once more the leafy lane
To see the Rainbow Woods again
Where as
boys we chased our dreams
Across the fields and winding streams.
Around
Floods hole and up the hill
To Greenings then to Puckney Gill
And every
field and wood below
Had names they knew so long ago.
From Skewers
Mead to Pickle Hall
We saw the kestrel turn and fall
Then chased the deer
the many miles
from Loggerhead across High Stiles.
Then on Mount Noddy far
away
Where the evening shadow lay
Too far to hear the Church bell
ring
We heard the dappled night bird sing.
As sun went down we played
our game
In Steven's Crawl and Pudding Lane.
Until, with moon on leaf and
thorn
We wandered home through silver corn.
But years have gone and men
now try
To raze the trees and fill the sky
And take away those fields of
home
Where as a boy I used to roam.
As I walked out in the fields
again
I thought of men who loved them when
There was no mighty engine
roar
Where their fathers walked before.
Their fathers fathers ploughed the
ground
To nothing but the sweet bird sound
And called each field by its
olden name.
Will all their love now be in vain.
Farewell to the
fields
And the peace that they bring
There's a mighty roar
waiting
Where the sweet song birds sing.
I
thought that when the Jumbo came
The sweet birdsong would not remain.
That Thrush in fear away would soar
At the mighty engines roar
Leaving my garden and the trees
To the fumes that cloak the breeze.
As
a One-Eleven screams on by
It rocks the ground and shakes the sky
Then an Airbus blasts into the blue
Rattling doors and windows too
But a blackbird struts upon my lawn
Treating both with equal scorn.
The
Thrush and he now sing together
As though it were the first day ever.
Louder and more sweeter yet
Determined to out sing the jet.
And in the jumbo' Smokey
track
I heard the Robin roaring back.
*Vocals, all instruments and arrangements by Dave
Toye. John Wigg on fiddle some mandolin.
All enquiries to Colin
Gates 01293-862492 or Peter
Barclay 01293 862730 regarding the Gatwick thing.
Some old stuff I wrote and recorded about 10 years ago: Click On Title for Real Audio Playback
Bold Reynolds
(Dave Mattacks on Keyboard)
My name it is Bold Reynolds
I was born near Bonfire Hill
That was many years ago
But I remember still
My brothers and my sisters
As we played near the den
With ne'er a care in all the world
My life was easy then
When I was scarcely nine months old
I first met with the hounds
I heard their voices through the wood
As I came above ground
I found it very easy
To leave them in my wake
I wandered many miles that day
It was to prove my fate
Whilst I was on that journey
I met her in a copse
She had a handsome thick red coat
Straightway my heart was lost
We spent that year together
Had seven cubs all told
I thanked the hounds for sending me
Along that distant road
Many times when I was stalking
Rabbits on my own
I'd hear the distant hunting horn
That called the stragglers home
At times the hounds would follow me
But I would have my fun
Across the fields and meadows
I'd give them a good run
My mate and I we stayed together
Many seasons more
Pheasants in the winter time
I always had in store
In the Springtime I worked hard
To feed the new born young
Hunting through the short chill nights
Until the rising sun
The years have passed, my vixen died
Now I am on my own
My legs are tired, my fur is rough
And all my seed is sown
I do not wish a lingering death
*The hunt once more I'll find
And lead them on through Marlpost wood
For the final time
*I'll meet the hunt again
And lead them on a final chase
Once more they'll serve my end
(Alternative words by Martyn Wyndam-Read from His recording "Mussels on a
Tree")
My name it is Bold Reynolds
I was born near Bonfire Hill
That was many years ago
But I remember still
My vixen and my young cubs
As we lay in our den
But now I bid you all farewell
My life is at an end
The
Seasons
The autumn rain falling so steady
The leaf on the tree
Knows it's time to get ready
He feels the pain within his heart
He knows that she and he must part
The winter wind
And the snows take their toll
Even the last leaf he has to let go
He tries to hold on to the past
It finally breaks away at last
And when the spring
Comes a murmuring deep
The buds they swell waking from their sleep
The pain has died within his heart
It's time to make another start
And through the summer
A-shimmering brightly
The leaves hug branches caress the tree nightly
Although the winter's scars remain
His heart is full of love again
England For Me MP3
Chorus:
It's England for me
No finer land you'll see
Although I've travelled all the world
In England let me be
And when the springtime comes around
The bluebells carpeting the ground
My heart will sing, if I'm within
Old England's pleasant land
In summer by a clear chalk stream
Or on the Downs to sit and dream
Of pints of beer, and old friends dear
In England's pleasant land
Chorus
In autumn days the hedgerow's fare
The berries, nuts, a-growing there
To stroll down lanes, between the rains
In England's pleasant land
And when the winter has begun
To roam the fields with dog and gun
And then retire, by warm log fire
In England's pleasant land
Chorus
The changing season's through the land
To feel the warmth of Cornish sand
Or in the Dales, in blustery gales
To walk the wet moorland
And when I am in foreign parts
Old England stays within my heart
If I should die, please let me lie
'Neath England's pleasant land
And it's England for me
No finer land you'll see
You can travel all the world
In England let me be
Chorus
Fisherman's Dream
By the sleepy river, the water running deep
Along the bank in silence, a lonely figure creeps
Creel on back, rod in hand, and the worms in can
Although he is a boy at heart, the figure is a man
Where the river takes the bend, he sees the big fish rise
Stares into the murkiness, hand shielding his eyes
Pushing through nettles, he kneels down by the water
Puts the worm onto the hook, his gaze it does not falter
His heartbeat the only sound
In harmony with water whispering
Music in the ground
He casts out his long quill float, it swirls into the eddy
Quivering it dips, and with hand unsteady
He feels the fishes tremble, touching down the line
The hook is set, his heart beats faster, could it be this time?
The cork upon the old cane rod, bending in his hand
The wild fish in the water, the man upon the land
The creature struggles harder, to reach the roots of the willow
Then with a jolt, he wakes to find, his head upon the pillow
He rises from his bed
Dresses in the darkness,
One thought in his head
Quietly on his bicycle, through the sleepy lanes
Down unto the river, of his dream again
Through the misty meadow, by the old stone bridge
Round the weir pool quickly, through the haze of midge
A glimmer barely noticed, appears in eastern sky
Reflects upon the water, beneath the fishes lie
The bait is cast into the depths, the ripples fade away
He rests his back against the oak, breathing in the day
Fishing for the fish of dreams
The fish that he will never catch
Although so often seen
The day is growing slowly, dark shapes in the weed
Move beneath the surface, as they begin to feed
Many times his heart stands still, at shivers through his line
Holding him suspended, in the silent watery time
All too soon right overhead, the sun begins to shine
He packs away his rod and reel, leaves river far behind
Tomorrow he will try again, to find the secret place
Musing of monsters of the deep, a smile upon his face
Padstow Mayday
MP3
The sun it shone bright on the first day of May
When I heard of some music come drifting my way
The drums and the sounds echoed up through the town
Summer's a coming today all around
REFRAIN
Padstow celebrates it's sacred day
With the blue and the old Oss on the first day of May
If you don't like the music, get out of the way (or be on your way)
For Summer's a coming, a coming today
Down by the harbour, the Peace 'oss comes out
The mayers all greet it, with a hell'ava shout
Straight down the Drang, and in to the Square
Laughing and singing, and meeting friends there
At the London, Commercial, the Customs House too
The Shipwrights, the Lion, they stop for a few
Then it's all back again, to drink some more beer
If you're not in Padstow, you'll wish you were here
Down by the maypole, the young girls do dance
The young men do kiss them, just given the chance
The hypnotic drum beat, gets a grip of your brain
And even the old ones, do feel much the same
When the Old Oss comes out, at the back of the Lion
Down by the quay side, it prances in time
Friends and relations, and those from the past
Are all there on Mayday, and dance to the last
The 'oss it swirls round at a hell'ava lick
And is tamed by the teaser - well, just for a bit
Girls in their whites, bluebells and cowslips
Link arms together and let voices rip
The people of Padstow remember the day
Their thought's turn back homeward, if they're far away
Memories of loved one's, no longer here
Return on Mayday, as they shed a tear
-Words & Music Dave Toye May90