Mark Knopfler Album

True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade

I wonder if there's no forever
No walking hand in hand
Down a yellow brick road
To never never land
These days I get to where I'm going
Make it there eventually
Follow the trail of breadcrumbs
To where I'm meant to be
To where I'm meant to be

I don't know what brought you to me
That was up to you
There's so many come to see me
Who want their own tattoo
I fixed a needle in a holder
Laid my hand upon your spine
And there upon your shoulder
I drew the picture as your sign
When I think about us
I see the picture that we made
The picture to remind us

True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade

I worked the rowdies and daytrippers
Now and then I think of you
Any which way we're all shufflin'
Forward in the queue
They like to move my operation
They like to get me off the pier
And I dream I'm on a steamer
Pullin' out of here

When I think about us
I see a picture that we made
The picture to remind us

True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade
True love will never fade

The scaffolder's wife
driving out of the yard
with a face that's as hard
as a scaffolder's bar -
when she goes into town
she might take the top down
on the car.

The quick little steps
in the stiletto boots
and the hair with the roots.
She comes in as a rule
to get the nails done
and the tan for the sun
when the kids are in school.

Don't begrudge her the Merc
it's been nothing but work
and a hard life.
Losing her looks
over company books
- the scaffolder's wife.

In the wicked old days
when they went it alone
kept the company going
on a wing and a prayer.
They don't pay that they owe
when they have the cash flow
- they don't care

Don't begrudge her the Merc
it's been nothing but work
and a hard life.
Losing her looks
over company books
- the scaffolder's wife.

Sunday morning here we are.
The boy's come home
not quite the movie star.

He's been in Hollywood.
The boy's come home.
The boy's done good.

He says she asked too high a price
neglecting to declare
what sits between them there on ice,
chilled, with the fizzy and the still:
he tried bud didn't make it there.

'It's not for me
It's not for me'.

Sunday papers, here we are.
The boy's come home.
The boy's come home.

You can tell me your troubles
I'll listen for free.
My regulars trust me, it seems.
You can come and see Uncle
to get trought the week
leave your pledges with me to redeem.
Some folks sell their bodies
for ten bob and go.
Politicians go pawning their souls.
Which doesn't make me
look to bad, don't you know
me, with my heart full of holes.
All my yesterdays broken
a watch with no face
all battered and old.
Bits of movement
all over the place
and a heart full of holes.
A heart full of holes.
A heart full of holes.

Brass knuckles and banjos
are out on the town
all the knees-up
in Teddy Boy's Row.
The gold block and tackle
tells the time upside down.
Rock n' roll - well, I don't know.
Dead people's wedding gifts
walk out of the door.
A clarinet squeals to be free.
Accordions hop
from the shelves to the floor -
start playing their polkas to me.

There's a ringing of bells
a dunderhead's curse.
Finger are pointing at you.
And you take work in hell
and be glad it's not worse
and you get to the back of the queue.
Handcuffs and hunting knives
clang on the bars.
Air pistols shoot out the lights.
I've a whole Wailing Wall
of electric guitars
could shatter the windows
down Brick Lane tonight.

If one of us dies, love
I think i'll retire
see my boys and my beautiful girl.
A Garden of Eden
no gates or barbed wire
who knows, maybe gates made of pearls.
Well, if we go to heaven
and some say we don't
but if there's a reckoning day
please God, I'll see you
and maybe I won't
I've a bag packed to go either way.

Redeeming your pledge, dear
I'll keep it for you.
It's not going to anywhere.
But your soul, your soul
that is not what I do.
There's not a lot I can do there
I remember the officer's watch
in my hand:
'Repair it or die' I was told
It's a wonder to me -
I still don't understand
why I ever survived to be old
with a heart full of holes.
A heart full of holes.
A heart full of holes.

We're old enough for leaving home,
The old joanna and the old trombone,
It's all going on,
I'm growing my sideboards long,
Hey you and me
Can be who we want to be.

Listen now right here,
It's going to be a beautiful year.

Calling it a teenage scene
And I have a dream,
Don't know if I'll be a star
I'm going to play guitar
I've seen this rocking cat
I want to be just like that.

Listen now right here
It's going to be a beautiful year

Hey look at you baby,
Tell your daddy your no child
Look at you baby
We can get wild.

Oh yeah

We'll be on our own
Billy Fury on the gramophone
Take you to the pictures and a dance
In my drainpipe pants
Check the mirror and the old DA
And "You can play in a day"

Listen now right here
It's going to be a beautiful year

Hey look at you baby
Tell your daddy you're no child
Hey look at you baby
We can get wild

Hey look at you baby
Tell your daddy you're no child
Hey look at you baby
We can get wild
We can get wild
Get wild
Get wild

Well now the school Christmas party is coming
Ain't doing rugby no more
McIntyre teaching us waltzing
Out on the gymnasium floor
Nobody battered or bleeding
Nobody's tattered and torn
McIntyre's dim, loud in the gym
Well, we've only got a little (...)
We've only got a little (...)

And it's you, you, you're a disgrace
McIntyre tore us apart
We dance with ourselves, when the (...) find their space
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
Waltzing with fear in our hearts,

On the big final manoeuvre, all of our heads are a whirl
Getting much closer to the deep thing
This time we'll do it with girls
In the arena the ladies are waiting
A twelve year old girl for a bride
The matches were fixed, somehow we mixed
And the fat girl got left on the side
The fat girl got left on the side.

And it's you, you, you're a disgrace
McIntyre tore us apart
We dance with ourselves, when the (...) find their space
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
Waltzing with fear in our hearts
It's the secondary waltz

Well you come to my right, and I am under the light
See that my footwork is false
Don't count me out, the start of the bow
I'm just doing secondary waltz
Doing secondary waltz
And it's the secondary waltz
Yeah, it's the secondary waltz

Somebody's gonn'a take the fall
There's your quid pro quo

Punish the Monkey
Punish the Monkey
Punish the Monkey
And let the organ grinder go

Here comes a policeman
He won't be sidetracked
He's asking about a smoking gun
He's after the fact

When it's pop goes the weasel
let go of the easel
You don't want
this rickety rackety life.
It's seat of the trousers
It's all sink or swim, son
I'd kill to get crimson
on this palette knife.
And I'd steal in a minute
I'm up to here in it
You here behaving
as though I'm a saint
Get a job with a pension
Don't ever mention
you once had a craving
for the brushes and paint.

So go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.

A hack writer judges
my swipes and my smudges
he doesn't like pictures
with blotches and blots.
The drawing room tea set
wants horses, sunsets
sweet nothing -
the seaside with yachts.
Here's the end of the thirties
no time for arties
over in Poland
a right old to-do
So go join the navy
the air force or the army
They'll all be enrolling
young fellows like you.

So go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.

These are not my decisions
flaming visions
ringing expression
the clamouring voice.
It's volcanic desire
the unquenchable fire
It isn't a question
of having the choice.
Anyway, now i'm old
but if you won't be told
if you've been created
to answer the call
all passion and lust
is going to end in the dust
but you'll hang on some
government gallery wall.

So go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.
Go, forget it, let it all go
let it all go.

This didn't used to be me, old boy
This isn't what I'd want
pulling old night fighters
in a restaurant.
There's smoke and flames behind me
where the self-respect all went
and I'm behind, behind
with the rent.

I've been stitched up like a kipper, old son
but I won't be again
Hell hath no fury
Oh, I'm like a lot of men.
Now I'm stalking this old Doris
with lascivious intent
and I'm behind, behind
with the rent.

Just a little duck and dive
and a bit of wheel and deal.
She'll remind me I'm a live.
She'll remind me I'm still feel
Just a little shelling out
for a bit of you-know-what
I know this is all about
something that I never got.

Well this crumpet's past it's sell-by-date
but they all would qualify
They're going to be lonely
and be happy to comply.
She knows that I'm a chancer
coming on like a gent
but I'm behind, behind
with the rent.
Yes, I'm behind, behind
with the rent.

When I gave my heart
to a tinker boy
he said a fish could love a swallow
And I will go with my travelling man
Wherever he goes I will follow.

He will mend
your pots and pans
Your kitchen knives he'll take and sharpen
Then I'll be gone with my travelling man
and never more your doorway darkne.

The fish and the bird
who fall in love
will find no place to build a home in.
The fish and the bird who fall in love
are bound forever to go roaming.

I'm a maker of ballads right pretty
I write theme right here in the street
You can buy theme all over the city
yours for a penny a sheet
I'm a word pecker out of the printers
out of the dens of Gin Lane
I'll write up a scene on a counter
- confessions and sins in the main, boys confession and sins in the main.

Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's keeping the demons at bay
There's nothing like gin for drowning them in but they'll always be back on a hanging day.

They come rattling over the cobbles
they sit on their coffins of black.
Some are struck dumb, some gabble
top-heavy on brandy or sack.
The pews are all full of fine fellows
and the hawker has set up her shop.
As they're turning them at the gallows
she'll be selling right under the drop, boys selling right under the drop.
Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's
keeping the demons at bay
There's nothing like gin for drowning them in
but they'll always be back on a hanging day

Are you home from the sea, my soul balladeer
You've been away roaming far away from here
weathered a storm, your heart unafraid
crossed every ocean in the boat that you made.

Been blowing your horn, scaring the spooks.
No crotchets or quavers in your books.
Gone sailing all night, straight in the vein
like a bird on his own flight in his domain in the sky.

Running in on the tide with the first of the stars
the moon on the water and the sound of guitars
Glide into the homing as the night falls
to tie up in the haven by the old harbour wall.

And the hard-bitten stranger as deaf as a post
who stands at the fire where a poet's dreams roast.
He can't know the story, he can't feel the pain
and all of the glory falls around him like rain in the sky.

You're a light in the dark, a beacon of hope
and strong as a sea boat, strong as a rope.
And the vagabond wind, whispers over the bay
and the songs and the laughter, are carried away in the sky.