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Angel of the North
A song adapted from the poem Angel of the North by Jackie Gleeson originally written for St Mary's Church, Wallsend
Acoustic - Acoustic Folk
Charts #695 in subgenre today (peak #12)
Previous peak charts position #53
Chris Ward
Shareshill Music
August 16, 2010
MP3 3.1 MB
128 kbps bitrate
3:22 minutes
Story behind the song
It started as a simple strummed guitar riff to which I found myself singing 'I am the Angel of the North they say...' , evoking images of the contemporary sculpture designed by Antony Gormley, which is located in Gateshead, England.
I am the Angel of the North they say With wings in the grey sky and my concrete feet in clay Directing the heavy clouds body braced against the wind Conducting the earthbound rain in which the angels sing I am the angel for the travellers below From romans to miners history called them to go I can see Adam, Eve and all the prophets too I see the priest, the priestess and demons deep in you I am the Angel of the North I'm told With a back bone of iron, and a steel ribbed heart of gold I can hear people, multitudes of humanity From the first to the last one and those who are yet to be I am the Angel of the North they say The bronze light above you to light you on your way I can see Joseph, Mary, kings and shepherds too I can see Jesus, Judas, lies, deception, truth I am the Angel, my wings straight and strong I am the Angel who can hear my windswept song? I am the Angel guardian of all, I am the Angel sentinel on call Adapted From Original Poem As below ------------------------------------ What would Adam make of you pet, set With feet in concrete, ribbed wings braced against wind. I can see Eve, Moses and all the Apostles heads against sky, craning stretched necks at the size of you, coppered, blazing in the sun. We're tellin' them, all of us, the ghosts beneath earthbound roots, picks still in hands, bosses and salt skinned shipmen, women who wailed at the sea. Tellin' Mary and all that lot in the stable, Tellin' Judas and McCarthy, Tellin' Kennedy and Shepherds on the old old hills Tellin' them that we ain't done yet. You're a messenger all right pet, I bet Your voice of steel heralding a new milennium starts such noise and singing in all of God's choirs, praising as your head towers with the rest of you, chained, fearless in the rain. We're yellin' at them, all of us, The soot choked grandas, spines curved from crawling, Lasses and leather skinned wives, kids who don't cry in a fight. Yellin' that we're here and we're stronger Yellin' futures and fortune, Yellin' birth and don't forget us on the old old hills Yellin' through the rain, soaking wet. The Romans footfall echo on your ribs pet, let History call to travellers, passing on the ancient road. Can you feel Jesus, Ghandi and all of the Prophets, screaming God voiced through the strength of you, challenging, shining in the dark. They're sellin' the message, all of them. The age old saints and the new born saviours, Children and those not born, boys who run with forever. Sellin' them the story of survival, Sellin' faith and eternity Sellin' diamonds of courage from the old old hills. Sellin' all the truth they can get. I'm glad you're an angel pet, yet You're human, feet in the clay, head in clouds. I can hear people, multitudes, all of humanity, coming Toward the bronzed light of you, watching, lighting up the world. I know, you're tellin' us, all of us From the first to the last and to those still to come, Warriors and sleeping peacemakers, lovers who cry at the dawn. Tellin' two thousand years and just beginning Tellin' love and forgiveness Tellin' Jesus' wisdom from those old old hills Tellin' peace that we all can get.
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