Dilly Dally

I was never popular in school, never unpopular but just never popular. I had my small group of friends and we stuck together. Once in junior school I was always placed on the same table as the 'gypsy's', my Mum had asked for me and my twin to be in separate classes so that we could learn some independence. I always had respect for the gypsy's and as long as you gave them respect they gave it back, that's not to say I respected them above anyone else because everyone was equal. Looking back I'd never seen my Mum talk down to or suck up to anyone! she had a way of being herself around everyone. My older sisters the same, she's always willing to agree or disagree depending on her opinion, but they would never disrespect anyone along the way. 

The sad thing with the gypsies was that the older you got the more you'd separate into different groups, the gypsies would stick together and so would what they would call the 'Gorgers' (us). I have never been called a gorger as that was disrespectful, I've been called a chavvy, a bruv and a boi but never a gorger. Even now that I've moved from home and I'm ashamed to say the Surrey ways have brushed upon me, I feel completely at home with the gypsy's I grew up with. A couple of them I will speak to when I'm back home but some you just politely nod to. This song was wrote for them and inspired by them, and also for the simple folks whose life is providing for their children, who may not have the best jobs in the world but would go about it just to provide luxury and comfort for their children.

Just to let you know that we have finished filming the next music video for the new song 'Into the Night' I will post it on Youtube and Facebook within the next couple of weeks, the single release will take place at Bar des Arts in Guildford on August 21st, I hope to see lots of you there :-) 

Vrs 1

Jimmy's my name, I was raised in a caravan,

I dropped out of school to work with my Dad,

I was only thirteen and my life was already planned,

Living the same ones my old brothers had.

Cash in the hand, we’d live from the land,

My poor old man would break his own back,

Preparing the kill with our mouths to fill,

And pulling that great caravan down the tracks.

Chr

Oh Dilly Dally there under the sad tree,

We buried the ones we lost to the deity,

We prayed when we needed,

When our luck became seedless,

I still speak to Daddy whose up in Heavens valleys.

 Vrs 2

A cobblestone sailor, a sweet music maker,

I’d pluck my guitar once I was in from the cold,

Hands rough as ale, ale would turn me a heartbreaker,

Many a girl I’d send out of control.

Elvie, she’s fair and someday I’ll marry her,

She talks like us boys but with curly black hair,

We’ll have our own babies, have our own plot,

But we will live the same life that we’ve already got.

 Chr-

Oh Dilly Dally, down in Punters Alley,

I became a man with blonde Mary-Annie,

Down in the damp ditches

I retraced those kisses,

I was far from shabby with blonde Mary-Annie.

Mid 8

I live my life content

Resting on my window ledge,

Chasing the road,

Chasing the road,

The change will come sadly,

But for now I dilly dally,

These wheels are my home,

These wheels are my home.

Chr

Oh Dilly Dally, here comes Aunty Sally,

Kicking a fuss about that same gorger rally,

If they dare come over,

They’ll feel my revolver,

And they won’t be happy they meet Jimmy’s Sally. 

Karl Smitherman © 2013

If you want regular updates on my music please follow either my Facebook page, Twitter profile, Youtube page or my Instagram. You can write to me at romanibeaumusic@yahoo.co.uk or through Facebook.
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Old Mans Lament

This song was originally meant to be a love song, a break-up one in fact. I wrote the melody and first verse years ago and then put it down until the rest of the song came to me. Sometimes I wait for inspiration when writing a song, other times I'll force the answer out but I felt this one had to come naturally.
Their's an old man that I know who is now a widow and at one point after his wife had passed he was going through some health issues and had to have an operation. I heard him say to his son that if he passed during surgery that he didn't want to be resuscitated. That comment shocked me as he had a whole family still living but clearly felt that his time on this earth had passed and longed to be back with his wife. He was never really a religious man or at least he never showed it, he only hinted in his belief in the afterlife after his wife had died. Quickly after this story touched my life I rewrote the first verse and it wasn't until two years later that I wrote the rest of the song, once I had found the chorus I managed to write the second verse and middle 8 in a week or so.

Verse
She died several years ago the grave still says her name,
Still everybody looks at me and says he's not the same.
My body's so warn and old while hers is peacefully sleeping,
Whilst God is on her shoulders I'm still battling with my demons.

Once a week I take myself down to that place
And put her favorite flowers in a vase beside the grave.
Nobody even notices it's just part of the scenery
To them it is an old grey stone to me she is a memory.

Chorus
I know the coal mines like the back of my hand,
I know when the tide is out or lapping the sand,
Oh, oh, oh all this I know
But I don't know when I'll see her again.

Verse
Life is like a rose and with it comes the thorns,
I've wished on all the petals now the stem wilts to the floor.
I'm counting down the days 'till the boat I'm in has drifted.
Does she ever think of me or tell the angels "How I've missed him"

Chorus 2
I know the hour of every sunrise,
I can name each star in the southern sky.
Oh, oh, oh all this I know
But I don't know when I'll see her again.

Mid 8
I'm half crazy, I'm half out of place here,
In your way here, I can't stay here.

Chorus
I know the coal mines like the back of my hand,
I know when the tide is out or lapping the sand,
Oh, oh, oh all this I know
But I don't know when I'll see her again.

Karl Smitherman © 2013

If you're a One Direction fan here is a cover I did of there song written by Ed Sheeran 'Little Things' let me know what you think?
My lack of computer skills wouldn't allow me to add the video to the page so I supplied the link :-)
http://youtu.be/-zg_O0ZU9Rs

If you want regular updates on my music please follow either my Facebook page, Twitter profile, Youtube page or my Instagram. You can write to me at romanibeaumusic@yahoo.co.uk or through Facebook.
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Willow Lake

Everyone has their own story...that line has been running rings around my head recently. We each have our own set of beliefs, opinions and experiences which shape our lives. It's only when we are old and grey that we will look back and realise who we have become, it seems we go through life trying to find ourselves and after a few months of breaking through and becoming content another wave of creativity comes along and we rebrand ourselves. However, we don't really rebrand do we? We still enjoy that coffee in the morning, the same series of novels and the same genre of music.

I was always old fashioned in my ways, I remember as a child thinking that when I grew up I'd have a wife with two children, one girl and one boy. We'd have a cottage in the country with red ivy growing up the slanted walls, and a chimney which would constantly churn out smoke in the midst of winter. My views on the house stayed the same, but the wife and the children changed. There was never really a point in life when realising I was gay came as a shock and a smack in the face, it fizzled in and out of my mind depending on my interests at the time (by interests I mean music, school etc rather than girls and boys). I came to accept it more with each string of hopeful romance until eventually you had to admit it to yourself.

I'd like to think of myself as a songwriter, or rather lyricist, my lack of knowledge with a musical intruments ruining that dream for me. I guess you could say songwriter with enough understanding of the guitar to write songs, but who leaves it to the professionals to make it individual. Seen as the musician in me is my weaker side I tend to focus more on the lyrics of a song. I found the name Willow Lake in a book shop and immediatly scribbled it down on my phone knowing that I could get a song from it. After the title is secure on paper/napkin/phone the next things race through my mind, what is the song about? where is it set? whose point of view is the song from? and can I relate to it? If no then the song usually doesn't get finished due to a lack of drive or sometimes knowledge but nearly every song I write is somehow drawn from my past or a fantasy of my future, or sometimes someone elses.

The end product produced was a simple song about a reunion between to lovers after a summer romance, a relationship between two men that was cut short due to a meddling father. Writing this now I'm already wondering if the song is to opinionated to be performed, the lines describing the male/male love are discreet so probably not, but you never know when the occasional clever clogs is in the audience and boos you off stage. It's sometimes a shame that for a moment we can't all stop and listen to each others stories, some as true as they were the day they happened, some a bit exaggerated and some so far from the truth that they're more like folk tales.

Verse 1

Hello stranger how have you been,

It's been so long since I've seen you,

Guess you've changed some,

I'm a fool to think you'd stay the same.

I remember how we'd spend,

Summer hols and our weekends,

Down on Willow Lake,

In your arms I felt so safe.

I saw each curve within your flesh,

As I watched you undress,

Then we'd steal away,

For a while beneath the shade.

Build

But your Dad he was the law,

Said you can't see me no more,

If you did you're out the door.

Chorus

Steal me away and take, me back to Willow Lake,

With your cold beer and me sipping lemonade.

When the Sun was high, in that big blue sky,

We thought we had it made, down on Willow Lake.

Verse 2

Lets stop a while lets talk the past,

Have you found someone at last,

When's the wedding set,

Does your Dad he know yet?

Do you still drive that banged up car?

Do you still get dressed in the dark?

Do you memories take,

You back to Willow Lake.

Build 2

But your Dad he know the law,

It's in Sodom and Gomorrah,

So you left me for the Lord.

Chorus

Steal me away and take, me back to Willow Lake,

With your cold beer and me sipping lemonade.

When the Sun was high, in that big blue sky,

We thought we had it made, down on Willow Lake.

Mid 8-

And when it's time for you to leave,

You turn around and say to me,

There's been no one of late,

Just you, me and Willow Lake.

Chorus

Steal me away and take, me back to Willow Lake,

With your cold beer and me sipping lemonade.

When the Sun was high, in that big blue sky,

Didn't we had it made, down on Willow Lake.

End

Karl Smitherman © 2013

Here's a video of my rewritten version of 'If I were a little sparrow' I performed this for a charity event at St Saviours, Guildford to raise awareness to stop trafficking.

If you want regular updates on my music please follow either my Facebook page, Twitter profile, Youtube page or my Instagram. You can write to me at romanibeaumusic@yahoo.co.uk or through Facebook.
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May God Bless Our Love

I was hoping to get this song recorded and placed on the internet by valentines day but due to sickness we weren't able to record it. I really struggle to write positive love songs, like I've said before I prefer the old songs of lament. I have scribbled a number of songs which I written for valentines but this was one of the only ones I was happy with. The idea came after hearing someone say the title somewhere, little did I know at the time that a song of the same title had already been recorded. The songs concept talks of a love that's forever changing and along the way the couple are asking for help and consent from The Lord to keep them together. When writing the song I was picturing the type of words which would want to be heard at a wedding and also the type of love which I suppose the majority of people are after. I can't think of anything else to write at the moment, short and sweet. Enjoy!


Feel free to comment on your thoughts or share my blog etc I'd be very very very happy.

Verse 1

Let me be there when your hair turns silver

Let us grow old in our ways together,

As young as we are today,

With you I want to see through the change.

Together the house will fall around us

And we’ll repair as and when we must,

Along all of this we’ll ask from above

For a helping hand may God bless our love.

Bridge

In fairness, in respect and in all things the best

May be bless our love until we’re put to rest.

Chorus

Until death do us part, until the stars

Refuse to shine for you, for you.

Verse 2

The years will see us through thick and thin,

When it’s said aloud or kept within

But I know we will forget and forgive

When the worst is said the best we’ll relive.

When we were young we hit the dance floor,

We’ll retire with the anniversary waltz

And even then we’ll test out luck

With a helping hand may God bless our love.

Bridge

In honour and in trust, in giving and in touch,

May he bless our love until it proves too much.

Chorus

Until death do us part, until the stars

Refuse to shine for you, for you.

Bridge

In words and in time, in your service and in mine,

May he bless our love until the great divide.

Chorus

Until death do us part, until the stars

Refuse to shine for you, for you.

Tag

Let me be there when your hair turns silver

Let us grow old in our ways together.

Karl Smitherman © 2013

If you haven't yet checked out my music video for my first (second) blog feel free to do so, plus feel free to let me know what you think!!

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Hell's Corner

Hello, and a Happy New Year to all. I hope all is well with everyone and if not I hope it gets a bit better. 'Hell's Corner' seems a depressing title to start the New Year with but it's really a song about home and an appreciation for simple things. The title came to me a while back when watching a few documentaries on Kent during W.W.2. Apart from London, Kent was the second most attacked place in the UK due to it's close port from Dover to France, a picture I found on the internet shows a battle scene taking place over the white cliffs of Dover. The image below looks pretty horrid hence why Kent was given the name Hell's Corner.















Charles Peers, R.O.I 1941 (http://www.kenthistoryforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=11817.0)

The song is filled with bliss from my childhood, in the summer me and my brothers and sisters would go to Tonge Pond. The pond was a converted Mill and we'd spend our time paddling in the waters. We'd also see who the bravest of us was by defying our Dads words and jumping full bodied in the water. Next to our primary school was a small bank which stood a large tree which held a strong rope to make a swing. After school we would line up and take turns on the swing until our Mum came and picked us up, always late and with a bag full of sweets. I always found (and have noticed since moving from home) that the people there are very limited in what they want in life, that's not a bad thing, they are the most humblest and grounded people I know and would bend over backwards for anyone they cared for. This thought gave birth to the line "your feet they fit your shoes ok" implying that you weren't to big for your boots. The sad thing was at the time I was living this way I never appreciated what I had, I always had in mind that I wanted to be famous and dreamed of a massive house with a massive pool.  The simple life wasn't good enough for me, we were so limited in variety of clothing when growing up that I used to think I was dressed up if I had a tracksuit with matching top and bottoms. I was always too scared to step out of my comfort zone for fear I wasn't good enough and a lot of the times I relied on somebody to do it for me. I appreciate the day my headmaster dragged me into the office of the lady who worked in the further educations department and tried getting me to go to uni, no matter how many tables I hid under, how many walls I ran behind and how many alternate routes I took round the college she got me out of there and helped getting me on to the road, so cheers for that!!

Anyway enough ramblings on about childhood memories. Musically I'm still recording, I'm hoping to put the music video to 'Man of Kent' up by the end of the week and I have a gig at the end of the month which all are welcome to...

The address is Kiss The Sky, 18-20 Park Road, Crouch End, N8 7EB, come down for some bare, stripped back, old fashioned acoustic music and as in the words of blog no27...."Follow me to the stage".

Verse 1

Little country house on a little country corner,

Dirt track next to the ol' pond water

A place to cool when the sun got warm a

Little bit of heaven on hell's corner.

There's something I love 'bout the old country way

When you say what you want and mean what you say,

No hard feelings on the next day

And your feet they fit your shoes ok.

Build

Money to spare was always scarce,

We never got if we never worked hard,

It sometimes kept us awake at night,

Alright, we were alright.

Chorus

Bang, bang over the land of Kent,

Hell's Corner was heaven sent,

Never would I replace,

The way which I was born and raised,

Though sometimes I wish I'd fly away...

Verse 2

To an eight roomed house with a twelve car drive,

A room to myself and money for style,

A silver spoon to eat Mamas pie,

Country morals with a dandy life.

Buils (trial)

Would that take away from the simple things?

A rope wrapped around the arm of a tree,

We'd fly down the banks on a homemade swing,

We'd fly, how we'd fly...

Chorus

Bang, bang over the land of Kent,

Hell's Corner was heaven sent,

Never would I erase,

The way which I was born and raised,

Now I'm gonw I wish I'd fly away...

Repeat verse 1

To that little country house on a little country corner,

Dirt track next to the ol' pond water

A place to cool when the sun got warm a

Little bit of heaven on hell's corner.

Little bit of heaven on hell's corner,

There's a little bit of heaven on hell's corner.

Karl Smitherman © 2013

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