Trevor Lewington


Strangest Dreams - T. Lewington

As a child you played at the seaside
Sun bronzed skin and windswept hair
The seagulls hanging high and mighty
Living life without a care
You better believe

War broke out and the world turned ugly
Confusion adrift overhead
Bombs are bursting, sirens wailing
Sadness hard to comprehend
That night on the coast you stared out
Far across the endless sea

In your strangest dreams
You’d never see what was coming
In your strangest dreams
You’d never see what was coming
You better believe

Those early days at Killaly
Dirt poor in the godly soil
But you laughed like nothing mattered
Through the heartache and toil
That night at the woods you whispered
To the stars and the evergreens

When you awake (x2)
It’s no ordinary day
When you awake (x2)

It’s a chance to start again
Looking back down the road, you wander
Through your fields of memories

In your strangest dreams
How could it all be for nothing
In your strangest dreams
You knew you were living for something

The Willow - T. Lewington

When the fields are covered with endless snow
And the moonlight spreads her wings
I will walk a mile to the forest edge
In her footsteps I’m following
Sometimes I’m the hunter
Sometimes I’m the prey

She will come to me
In the wind that bends the willow
She will come to me
In the snowbird’s peaceful song
I’ll not be alone
Though I know I’ll never meet her
When I close my eyes I see her
Like a dream she comes to me

On the nights that snow is falling hard
My pathway home I’ll lose
In a fine patchwork of hollyhock
I’m a needle pushing through
Sometimes I grow weary
When I cannot find her love

So winter settle heavy now
And petrify the sun
Frozen, scarlet, berries hang
And wood smoke fills my lungs
Sometimes hours pass me byBut I feel that time is still

Lion of Grace - T. Lewington

I’ve made a mess of some things in this life
Mistreated, repeated and covered the crimes
I can rehaul this engine and patch up the lines
But I won’t get it running tonight
With a chip on my shoulder and beer on my breath
I have stumbled and staggered through the alleys of death
Bucked from a Greyhound on my way to the West
But I slept like a dog at the roadside

I will surely find my way
I’ll repay every cent that I owe
I will hunt the lion of grace
Til I free this reckless soul

So I rattled the city like an earthquake in jeans
Never felt more alive as I was struggling to breathe
My head underwater but I could not get clean
Walking backwards in the backwoods of hell
I was deaf, dumb and blind to all reason and truth
I didn’t know my own brother when he tried to break through
I checked myself into a hospital room
And I sent me a card to get better

I’m sorry to my mother for the pain that I caused
And I’m sorry to my father for all the late night calls
I fess up to my failures, my fractures and faults
There’s a long list of regrets to my name

White Hurricane - T. Lewington

The early morning sunlight
Cast its shadow off the dock
Saw dust filled the air like blowing snow
The scene was so familiar
As he stepped onto the deck
He made the run a thousand times before
Soon the lake would turn to ice
Frozen until spring
He’d be home on dry land for a while
Felt the autumn wind upon the harbour oh
But no one could have seen the devil’s smile

November is no good for sailors
Like a blue sky is no good for rain
He cried I’ll always love you, my darling
And he died… in a white hurricane

They set off from the harbour
With a dozen gulls in tow
Full ahead and steady on their keel
He stared out to the water
As it faded to the sky
Crushed a cigarette beneath his heel
Over that horizon was a storm beyond compare
Fiercer than this lake had ever seen
They gave it everything they had
Ragged sails, broken mast
Taken by a wild and angry sea

My dear
I could see you there

Now down below her body lies half buried in the sand
A century alone beneath the waves
Floating like a ghost I put my hands upon the helm
Kneeling at this cold and hallowed grave

How quickly her heart it can change
I wish you clear stars
And a safe passage far
From the eye... of a white hurricane

The Last of the Great Lake Schooners - T. Lewington

In history this village had a common sense of pride
For building boats to sail the lakes
Through weather foul and fine
Armed with old world knowledge
There were many thousand made
But only the Helen MacLeod remains

November 12, in ‘32
In search of one last haul
Slammed by some ferocious storm
A bitter winter blow
The Donald Mac was shaken up
And no more could she sail
But firmly the Helen MacLeod would stay

She’s the last of the great lake schooners
The last of the ships we made / Now waiting for her day
I hope I live to see her sails catch the wind again
Will she catch the wind again?

Six times they tethered up the line
But each time it did fray
The wind cut through just like a knife
And the two boats parted ways
The Helen MacLeod was running low
And left in search of fuel
But hastily returned as promised to

After twelve long hours
They had safety in their sights
All members of the crew on board
And The Donald Mac behind
But sadly then, the line gave way
So close now to the shore
And the Donald Mac, she met her end below

Now boarded up inside a barn
Her sails folded neat
The last of thousands of her kind
Replaced by modern steel
No one has the funds to bring
Her back in shape to sail
So for the time, the Helen MacLeod will wait

Prison Fence - T. Lewington

In these dark and desperate, crazy times
It’s hard to know who’s right
I’ve spent many nights reflecting on my choice
Through these dank and dreary hallways
You’re my one and only light
On this lonely bed I listen for your voice

Oh my love won’t you marry me tonight
I know that we’ve a loss of fortune’s favour
I can live without my freedom
Your heart is all I need
Put your hand against this prison fence and marry me

I heard the young men calling
“Won’t you stand and join the cause
We’ve been bullied to the limit by our government
Surely, now, you’d like to look your children in the eye
And tell them you did everything you could for them”

When they open up this rusty cage
Not fit for man or beast
I can see us in farm house in the field
Warm sun on your pretty face
Laundry on the line
Tell me that this life is in our reach
Don’t say it’s just a dream

Wicked Heart - T. Lewington

She’ll tear you apart like a lion in heat
Leave your bones out in the street
Hang your head in a willow tree
The wicked heart of Mary
I was taken by surprise
She didn’t even have to try
I took the bait upon the line
The wicked heart of Mary

She seems so sweet
With a look so fare
But she’ll pull you down
And she’ll leave you there
Oh she laughs so free
With her golden hair
She’ll bring you misery
And a kiss beyond compare

Keep away if you see her face
Turn the corner and leave no trace
If you don’t you’ll rue the day
You took the hand of of Mary
No other girl I’ve met before
Was laughing when I hit the floor
Cracked my head inside the door

Mary, oh my darling
What you gonna do?
Running through the side streets
Ribbons on your shoes
Searching for a soldier
To carry you to war
Or a rocket man
To fly you to the stars

Call the cops and firemen too
Bring the king and all his crew
Still, there’s nothing that you can do
To save yourself from Mary
If happiness is what you see
The diamonds in our eyes deceive
Love’s a worthy enemy
The wicked heart of Mary

Beauty and Violence - T. Lewington

All these nights are broken
Will you always feel the doubt
No wise man or prophet
Would dare to call you out
It's just smoke and fears
Heed no caution to the king
He will spread his feathers
Take your time and steele your strength

And the archers stretch their
Fletchlings to their ears
The sky is black as daylight disappears
Terrified, we cower, so powerless
We're staggered by the beauty and the violence

Quiet now, my child
Hold your breath and words
Keep your poor heart steady
Every movement’s overheard
Our troubles will be over
If we live another day
We will leave this fortress
And be free to breathe again

When the flowers blossom
We will look back on these days
Warm wind blowing gently
Upon your sunlit face
Horror left behind us
And the hardship we endured
But for now we’re bracing
For the storm

The Ramsay - T. Lewington

On the first day aboard her
We were happy with our fate
A chest of rum and spices
Bound for Barcelona Bay
The summer wind blew merrily
The sunset to the lee

On the second day aboard her
How the wicked gale did howl
I finished up my breakfast
When my stomach made a growl
I hung my head upon the rail
As sick as sick could be

Curses on your sails, curses on your bow
Our girls are sick of waiting
But we’ll never see them now

On the third day aboard her
She took an awful bend
The cook was thrown overboard
And never seen again
No one else knew what to do
So we lived on rum and tea

On the fourth day aboard her
The first mate turned to green
He caught a nasty fever
Then he died of dysentery
They put me in his post
Being the soberist of the team

On the fifth day aboard her
We could barely stay afloat
We were bailing hard as hades
But the rum was in our bones
We passed along the bucket
In a circular degree

On the sixth day aboard her
Our spirits all were low
The captain laughed and told us
We were welcome to swim home
He said “you boys can have her”
If you want a mutiny

On the seventh day aboard her
We passed the bottle round
We finished off the liquor
As our sorry ship went down
When the crow’s nest settled under

We were singing “Fields of Green”

Deadman’s Company - T. Lewington

Out walking on the oceanside
A strange thing I did see
A bottle with a note inside
Had washed up on the beach
A letter from a stranger
With money free to spend
He asked a simple favour
So I did just what he said

He said have a drink on me
And I’ll be on my way
I’ll travel cross the ocean
Til this whiskey bottle breaks
Have a drink on me
In the morning set me free
I’ll bet you never had a drink
In a deadman’s company

He said he lived a reckless life
Astray in younger years
Whiskey, wine and cigarettes
And chased them down with beer
He dreamed of someday traveling
A chance he never had
So they finished up the bottle
And filled it with his ash

The note it bore no address
So his home I did not know
Maybe far afield
Or a neighbour down the road
And I couldn’t help but wonder
Where I’m going when I die
If a whiskey bottle’s heaven
I can leave here with a smile