Me Time
by Peter Clement © 2020
Performed by Peter Clement
At the back of the factory the cut lies grey and slow
And when I am released from work
That is where I’ll go
That is where I’ll go
Just a ribbon of litter and weed oozing over rubbish rocks
Trapped between muddy banks
‘Til freed by the swing of the locks
Freed by the swing of the locks
But that is where I find my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
I will not wave at a passing boat or give a nod to a passer-by
For I am lost in one intent
To find where the silver slivers lie
Find where the silver slivers lie
But should my hook snag a lip and at the surface I should see
The beauty of scale and fin
I will set it free
I will set it free
For that is where I take my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
If I look to my left and turn to look to my right
I see the cut horizon-bound
To a country out of sight
A country out of sight
I forget the factory with each catch that I make
The dirty water speaks of freedom
For a while I escape
For a while I escape
For that is where I had my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
At the back of the factory ...
Notes from the song writer :
During my farming childhood I enjoyed the benefit of a stream bordering one of the meadows where we undertake
infrequent but optimistic fishing trips. Bamboo cane, sewing thread and bent pin variety.
With my blinkered country-boy vision I could not understand why the banks of the canals I saw as we entered
Birmingham on our even less frequent steam train trips to that city were dotted with men fishing.
The still slabs of water seemed to offer little chance of a catch.
It was years later I realised that after labouring away in the factories of the ‘City of a Thousand Trades’ those
stretches of water were equivalent to my country brook.
Pete Clement
Me Time
by Peter Clement © 2020
Performed by Peter Clement
At the back of the factory the cut lies grey and slow
And when I am released from work
That is where I’ll go
That is where I’ll go
Just a ribbon of litter and weed oozing over rubbish rocks
Trapped between muddy banks
‘Til freed by the swing of the locks
Freed by the swing of the locks
But that is where I find my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
I will not wave at a passing boat or give a nod to a passer-by
For I am lost in one intent
To find where the silver slivers lie
Find where the silver slivers lie
But should my hook snag a lip and at the surface I should see
The beauty of scale and fin
I will set it free
I will set it free
For that is where I take my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
If I look to my left and turn to look to my right
I see the cut horizon-bound
To a country out of sight
A country out of sight
I forget the factory with each catch that I make
The dirty water speaks of freedom
For a while I escape
For a while I escape
For that is where I had my ‘me’ time
Sitting with rod and line
At the back of the factory ...
Notes from the song writer :
During my farming childhood I enjoyed the benefit of a stream
bordering one of the meadows where we undertake infrequent but
optimistic fishing trips. Bamboo cane, sewing thread and bent pin
variety.
With my blinkered country-boy vision I could not understand why
the banks of the canals I saw as we entered Birmingham on our even
less frequent steam train trips to that city were dotted with men
fishing.
The still slabs of water seemed to offer little chance of a catch.
It was years later I realised that after labouring away in the
factories of the ‘City of a Thousand Trades’ those stretches of water
were equivalent to my country brook.
Pete Clement
