Tea with Paul
words/music (c) matt ralph 2000
Only with the things we know,
Can we make our lives a little brighter,
Only with our family and friends,
Can our lives shine like the sun,
I find no use praying to the sunrise,
Making offerings to the moon,
The Gods that make my life worth living,
Are often just sitting back at home,
I sat behind a man on a train,
And he softly told me again and again,
That the time was eleven fifty three P.M.
On the twenty sixth of July nineteen ninty seven,
His voice was gentle,
Like a babies high and slurred,
I played some guitar for him but I don’t think he heard,
But one woman did relate at the Newtown Station,
She sat down to ease her guts and gave me an explanation,
Her two friends had killed themselves,
One shot and one stabbed,
She asked me to sing for them,
But got dragged off by her man,
So I’m not praying to the sunrise,
I’m having tea with Paul,
And I’m not wishing ona moon beam,
I’m having sticky date pud with Clare,
And when I’m in bed with fever,
And the pains bashing my head,
I’m not kneeling to imaginary stars,
I’m calling Natalie instead,
So with God,
As my witness,
In the eyes of my friends,
We put our faith into each other,
And in return we’re strengthened,
And all my family have been my Gurus,
I’ve got their photos on my wall,
And all the learning and hurt we’ve suffered,
Has been together,
And til the end we’ll share
So I’m not praying to the sunrise,
I’m having tea with Paul,
And I’m not wishing ona moon beam,
I’m having sticky date pud with Clare,
And when I’m in bed with fever,
And the pains bashing my head,
I’m not kneeling to imaginary stars,
I’m calling Natalie instead,
