Sailors Hornpipe
Traditional, Arr. Mike Oldfield
Vocals: Viv stanshall
The hallway. From the outside an ordinary house. A great house, true. Four hundred and eighty-three rooms, each one with its own marble wash basin and douche. Bidet, as it may. But inside - and the positions are reversed. A human failing, some say a disease, but a disease that Sir Francis Dashwood knew and used well. Upstairs, inside, and: a revelation! It's a discotheque. No, no, uh... there are paintings - real..., and look here! A rare seventeenth century masterpiece. And if I can scrape a little of it off, beneath I can find hidden ... a fourteenth century underpiece. Made entirely of tiny pieces of eggshell, this lurid work has caused controversy in the world of embroidery and anthropolodge-, no, I'll say it again, anthropolology. No - quite possibly making... anthropole, no, I mean an'epilog... It has enthralled distinguished professors, and In layman's language, it's blinking well baffling. But to be more obtusely, buggered if I know. Yes, buggered if I know. And that's all we've gleaned so far from experts in fourteenth century painting, renaissance greengrocers, and recently revived members of the public. Buggered if I know. Vivian Stanshall, about three o'clock in the morning, Oxfordshire nineteen seventy-three. Goodnight.
The Rio Grande
From the David Bedford's album 'The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner'
By David Bedford
Vocals: Classes 2 and 3, King's College, London.
We're homeward bound across the blue sea.
Going home.
We're homeward bound across the blue sea,
And we're come from the old country.
And away, love, away.
Going home.
We're homeward bound this very day,
And we're come from the old country.
The sails are unfold and the anchor's aweigh.
Going home.
She yeilds to the breeze as she gathers her way,
And we're come from the old country.
And away, love, away.
Going home.
We're homeward bound this very day,
And we're come from the old country.
We're homeward bound across the blue sea.
Going home.
We're homeward bound across the blue sea,
And we're come from the old country.
And away, love, away.
Going home.
We're homeward bound this very day,
And we're come from the old country.
Speak (Tho' You Only Say Farewell)
Words by Ray Morelle and music by Horatio Nicholls
Vocals: Mike Oldfield and David Bedford
Speak, vision of the night, Tell me why you haunt me so.
Speak, ere the morning light, Whisper all my heart would know,
Dawn ever finds you gone, Back to where the shadows dwell,
Speak, my beloved speak, Tho' you only say "Farewell".
When doubts and fears cause the tears that blind me.
Why be dumb if you've come to find me?
Speak to me and I'll follow, leaving all the wold behind me.
Can those eyes, calm and wise, deceive me
While I still know the thrill of yore,
Mystic shade ere you fade and leave me, Once I implore
Speak, vision of the night, Tell me why you haunt me so.
Speak, ere the morning light, Whisper all my heart would know,
Dawn, ever finds you gone, back to where the shadows dwell,
Speak, my beloved speak, Tho' you only say "Farewell".
Speak! Speak!
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