Harry & Joanna

from by Barabajagal

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I've written a lot of folk-esque songs in the past, but seldom have I done a proper "folk lyric", so I did.


The speaker blares from above him
As he walks along the path.
No one seems to be manning the decks
It’s looped for an hour and half.
The DJ, a popular sort of kid,
Is smoking around the back,
And no one seems to be missing him,
As he continues his chat.
He kicks back and enjoys the view,
The air is a blend of grey,
The lichen brick walls are sepia
As you move on with your day.

A student, he waits for the bus,
His jeans collecting the rain,
Somebody’s yelling out for Harry,
And he thinks he’s heard his name.
So looking up he sees someone,
Standing underneath a shelf,
Hopping around a bit awkwardly
She begins to brace herself.
The run begins with a stutter,
As she covers up her essay,
Eventually they meet with a bump
As you move on with your day.

Joanna, she’s holed in her office,
With all her papers and pens,
Her haircut gets shorter every week,
Soon she’ll have no more split ends.
She disappears for months at times,
And comes back to no applause,
Just to a note that says come back soon
Or I’ll tear down your front door.
She steps out for a bit of air
Doesn’t seem to see the fray
One man is kicking off on his own
As you move on with your day.

The officer, he’s a sturdy sort
“You have to be to get by”
He thinks as he readies the van
For a really different guy.
“Screw you pig”, shouts a hipster
As he sticks it to the man
The man wraps up and gets out of there
He tried to do what he can.
The wife, she makes him pasta
While listening to Beyoncé
The days are the same, just not the hours
As you move on with your day.

Traffic lights sing hallelujah
Even when Karla got hit
Their fingers froze to an upright pose
They don’t want to deal with it.
She preaches that these things matter
Though they know that nothing does
This is the 6th time they’ve jumped out now
They just want to feel that buzz.
Karla now likes to be called Storm,
After that little display
It looks like time number 7’s up
As you move on with your day.

The shops they bleed onto the road
The pavements sticky with blood
Harry, again, waiting for a lift
Attempts to avoid the flood.
But, shoppers internally cheer
Their minds are already made
Christmas is here every single day
Doesn’t matter what they paid.
They’re selling postcards of the church
And of penguins in the bay
The church is new, the birds have gone
As you move on with your day.

Storm, nee Karla, holds up traffic,
Looking for a worthy cause.
Anything to be a slight hindrance
To any established norms.
The busses overfill the stops
Rivers overrun the drains
Storm, nee Karla, now Antimony,
They just love to be a pain.
The studious one looks up briefly,
From their spot in the doorway,
And seems to fixate on someone
As you move on with your day.

Reflections in Joanna’s eyes
Of romantic movie stuff
Flash past as she sees an old partner
Through the window of a bus,
A student, like everyone else
Her hair was longer back then
The comfort was restricting, she thinks
As Harry steps off again.
He’s late again, the leaves blow in
He looks for something to say
The leaves, they’d settles as he sets out
And you move on with your day.


from So This, released November 15, 2016
All Instruments and Vocals - David Cooper




Barabajagal Dunedin, New Zealand

Barabajagal are a band who make music.

It's pretty ok stuff really.

It's rooted in psychedelia but incorporates so many genres that it doesn't really seem too definable. But it's ok with that.

Despite being a kiwi band the songwriter is actually rather English, so whenever he sings you'd be hard pressed to go "wow, those kiwis huh". Still, New Zealand-ish.

Pronounced Bah-Rabba-Jaggle.
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