Purification

Purification: February 2025

Volume 22 in the ongoing series collecting the song lyrics written by the Irish singer-songwriter Paul Murphy, this anthology collects the material written during February 2025.

Picking up where Doorways: January 2025 ended, this volume contains the works that Paul managed to complete before succumbing to the muscle-wasting neuro-degenerative condition that he had battled for over 10 years. Amazingly, Paul crafted 20 songs in just 10 days, including works as diverse as the Trump-administration observation 'Firin' Line'; the excoriating UK political commentaries '"People Like You"' and 'England's Shame', the latter a rail against the systems that fail the young and the infirm and the vulnerable; the harrowing 'Wrong', a 2-person duologue about a female being pressurised into 'going all the way'; 'Down Here', a look at the grim underside of society where exploitation and predatory behaviour runs unchecked; the pinwheel twist narrative allegory 'Down The Geen-Eyed Highway'; and, poignantly, a final ballad of love and devotion, and appreciation, to his young children - 'With You In My Arms'.

A final collection of storytelling prose-work from a master of the genre.

From 'Living Like You Choose'

I hear what you're asking
But I can't comply
Don't you feign perplexion
You know full well why
I've reviewed your offers
Nothing I can use
You're the one who suffers
Living like you choose

I know who you left with
Where you journeyed to
The people you've befriended
They're not good for you
I showed you an exit
You said "I refuse"
You'll come to regret it
Living like you choose

It's a funeral parlour
What you're calling 'home'
You're a prized possession
To those you've never known
Someone turned the light out
Or you blew its fuse
There's always an element of doubt
Living like you choose


From 'Mockingbird'

Wind's a-blowin' thru' the trees
Sign's a shakin' on the rail
I'm down on my bended knees
Sayin' "Lord, don't let me fail"
All my sins are pilin' up
Wonder where my morals went
I've drank from pleasure's warming cup
Too late now to repent...

I look thru' my photographs
Many lovers, so few friends
Lot of questions I could ask
What would it matter, in the end?
Coyote singin' my name
Out on the broken veranda
My last wife left here hurlin' blame
Never did understand her

My mind's become a patchwork quilt
Time's a mirage I can't reach
All my graveside flowers wilt
My waves no longer make the beach
I turn on my radio
An' hear an obituary
It's for somebody I don't know
Guess it could be for me


From 'The Hypocrite's Oath'

Are you working hard today, destroying lives?
Sitting nice and pretty in your country estate
Letters after your name
They should spell out 'Shame'
Let's hope they catch up with you before it gets too late

Fine wines on your table, nose full of Doctor Good
Making life-or-death decisions in a stupor
Your children live real well
Ours, you send to Hell
But watch out what you're signing, in case the past becomes the future

Maybe you wanna pack your bags and run
Try an' find a hidin' place somewhere under the sun
The fuse is nearly there, your time has nearly come
We're gonna pay you back with interest - and then some...