Discography
PROMISE NOTHING

WE WILL MEET THEM AGAIN

I often think
That they’ve merely gone out
Soon they will be coming
Home again

The day is bright
Oh do not worry
They have only gone
For a long walk

Yes they’ve merely gone out
And soon they will be coming
Home again

Oh do not worry
The day is bright
They’ve just taken
A walk to the hills over there

They’ve merely gone
Ahead of us
And will not be coming
Home again

We will meet them
Again on the hills
In the sunshine
The day is bright

We will meet them
Again on the hills
In the sunshine
The day is bright
On the hills over there


Words taken from an English translation of Mahler's Kindertotenlieder (Songs On The Death Of Children). Music by Virginia Astley © M Ocean Music Ltd/Warner Bros. Music Ltd

ARCTIC DEATH

I breathe in the coolness of frigid air
The iciness sends a shiver through me like a skewer
Icebergs like raw skin gleam in this polar world
This glacial snowlike - a Siberian apparition
I see a frozen mirage - frost clings to the ice yacht gliding over the silent lake

Body useless
Nerves are broken
Fever soaring end is near

Tears are falling
Falling frozen
Heaven calling
Have not fear
Arctic Death


Words and music by Virginia Astley © 1982 M Ocean Music Ltd/Warner Bros Music Ltd

ANGELS CRYING

Through all the laughter
I hear the sobbing
Of the angels
In their grief

I don't know why
They're so sad
What's the reason
For their tears

Through the trees
I hear their cries
The gentle sighing
Of the angels

I don't know why
They're so sad
What's the reason
For their tears

Crying
Crying
Crying
Crying

Through all the laughter
I hear the sobbing and crying
Of the angels
In their grief


Words and music by Virginia Astley © 1982 M Ocean Music Ltd/Warner Bros Music Ltd

LOVE'S A LONELY PLACE TO BE

Years go by and all seems fine
Until one day you realise
You don't know who you are anymore
I've got you here beside me
But love's a lonely place to be
Friends no longer call around
And we no longer smile

It seems to me although you're here
I'm more alone than ever before
We are fools to believe that life is for this
I've got you here beside me
But love's a lonely place to be
Friends no longer call around
And we no longer smile
You're not my friend
And I'm not your friend
How can we deceive ourselves like this

It looks OK until you're there
And then you find that you're alone
I've got you here beside me
But love's a lonely place to be
Surely life is worth more

You're not my friend
And I'm not your friend
How can we deceive ourselves like this
You're not my friend
And I'm not your friend
How can we deceive ourselves like this


Words and music by Virginia Astley © 1982 M Ocean Music Ltd/Warner Bros Music Ltd

SOARING

I am soaring
Far below me
I can see you

I'm not stopping
I'm leaving here
I no longer
Want to stay

It was only brief
But I loved you
And my heart melted
With my hand inside yours
Oh I shan't stay around

Soaring
I am soaring high
Far below me
I can see you

I was dreaming
Dreams that won't come true
But there's no harm in wishing
One day I'll be with you

It was only brief
But I loved you
And my heart melted
With my hand inside yours
Oh I shan't stay around
And make you sad

I'll leave my heart
Here with you
And cut myself from passion
Strive for high ideals
And my soul shall
Grow old alone

Soaring
I am soaring high
Far below me
I can see you


Written by Russell Webb © April Music/Bleak House

FUTILITY

Move him into the sun
Move him into the sun
Gently its touch awoke him once
Always it woke him, even in France

Move him into the sun
Move him into the sun
Gently its touch awoke him once
Whispering of fields unsown

O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
Are limbs, so dear achieved, are sides,
Still warm, too hard to stir?

Move him into the sun
Move him into the sun
Move him into the sun

Gently its touch awoke him once
Whispering of fields unsown

O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
Are limbs, so dear achieved, are sides,
Still warm, too hard to stir?

O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
Are limbs, so dear achieved, are sides,
Still warm, too hard to stir?

Move him into the sun (Move him into the sun)
Move him into the sun (Move him into the sun)
Move him into the sun (Move him into the sun)
Move him into the sun (Move him into the sun)


Words by Wilfred Owen/Music by Virginia Astley © Warner Bros. Music Ltd

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  • SINGLES 1982-1987
  • ALBUMS 1982-2021
  • COMPILATIONS
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