Millpond Album

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**** AND ALSO THE TREES : The Millpond ****

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Artist: And Also The Trees

Album : The Millpond

Simon Huw Jones : vocals

Justin Jones : guitar

Steven Burrows : bass

Nick Havas : drums

(some additional keyboards played by Mark Tibenham)

produced by AATT & Richard Waghorn (1988)

all songs written and arranged by AATT

all lyrics by S.H.Jones

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@Song: The Suffering Of The Stream

There is a place where she would always be

Where the blossom snows between the cankered trees

Holding his sour breath

He knows she's there

Watching the torrent as it flows

Watching her soft white dress, it flows

In the innocent breezes

Smoothing the stones

Watching her cold white dress, it floats

He could see his love like a long forgotten dream

He could see his love veiled beneath the stream

He could see his love grow pallid and suffer as he weeps

His tears fall around her in oil-rainbow streaks

He could see his own reflection cloud the stones

There is a place where she will always be

Where the blossom floats above her through the reeds

Where cling the willow roots

His fingers reach

Searching for her lost arms to seize

Watching her soft white dress, it flows

In the innocent breezes

Smoothing the stones

Watching her cold white dress, it floats

@Song: Simple Tom And The Ghost Of Jenny Bailey

The day flees the town with a drunkard's yell

Silence from the slaughterhouse

And the midnight bell

Shudders down Shambles alley

Slamming shutters

And the market litter flies

Newspaper acrobats, straw and rags

Whirl up to Tom's window...

And away

Simple Tom looks out across the town

Come into my shipwreck room

Creaking beams and tilting shadows

And the tallow-sticks burn

High above the cobble streets

Come into my shipwreck room

Jenny Bailey

We can see Tom's hand only

Pulling horse-hair from the chair

The candle splutters

His pupil shrinks, his pupil grows

You are my ghost Jenny Bailey

Come and dance with me

While the whole town sleeps

Simple Tom looks out across the town

Walk across the scaly roofs

Look into my open window

Oh, my rooftop girl

Rats-tail hair and milky skin

Glinting in the weather-vanes

Jenny Bailey...

@Song: The House Of The Heart

You stand beneath a racing sky

You don't know why you came to

The house of the heart

You sit amongst the whitered flowers

By the dry fountains

You look at the barren world around

The house of the heart

The lichen covered courtyards lions

Stand restlessly beside you

The great door it swings

The house of the heart

Remote and scarlet

Say the clouds

Vivid visions shatter down the spiral stairs

Promises and perfection

Solitude and despair

You hear the tempest beauty sigh

You don't know how you came to

The house of the heart

@Song: This Ship In Trouble

The sails are torn

We know only darkness and fear

Lost eyes are searching...

Searching still

Oh, this endless dawn

@Song: Count Jefferey

For he is Count Jefferey

For he is the servant of no man

For he casts the shadow of fear

For he is everywhere

For he rides

For he kicks

For he takes

For he leaves

For he strides down the lime groves

But sees only the road in front of him

For he has done his duty

You have done your duty

Count Jefferey

For he destroys

For he gains

For he takes

For he hates

And for he is the hated

And for when he takes his prey

He takes the lord's touch

He counteracts the power of darkness

For he counteracts the devil

Who rides so briskly about his life

But Jefferey you lack in spirit

Hey Jefferey you are lacking in spirit

Count Jefferey

For he lies

For he waits

Open eyed and granite faced

But what holds you from your sleep?

Is it the gold clocks

Or the nightingales you cannot hear

Or the famine wolves outside your walls?

Count Jefferey

The portrait gallery is laughing

Or is it the village babies crying?

As the nightmare of life come true

Where did you go

That brought you screaming with the cockerels?

Count Jefferey

@Song: Shaletown

On the blue-green rising, falling tide

Breathing in the pebbles

Sighing out the salt breeze

Chaff is blowing from the stubble fields

Leaving the dried earth land it threads the gate

Tunnel hedges

Old man's beard

Sticking to the wild plums

Old man's beard

And follows the pot-holed tracks

That lead to Shaletown

The ox-man's soul forever turns around

And ploughs the stubble field

Caught in the lonely mile

Between the roads to Shaletown

He watches the chaff leave his dry brown eye

And swing over rose-hip stile

To Shaletown

Under bronze-red sunset, cobweb clouds

Dipping to the shadows

Dancing through the dead trees

Over carts that struggle up the hills

Sticking into the sweat and blistered hands

Nailed sacks flap