A much-loved musical spectacle in his native Newcastle for many years now, Dawson is a skewed troubadour who sings and plays guitar with a rare intensity and a very singular style. Dawson’s music is a collision of opposites, his hoarsely cracking voice suddenly rising to a magical soar that’s been compared to Tim Buckley, John Martyn and Richard Youngs, while his battered acoustic guitar veers from stumble to sublime in a way that can recall Sir Richard Bishop or Captain Beefheart, add this to his snaring way with words and Dawson’s got you pinned.
Hob
Richard Dawson Lyrics
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To the mouth of the Hobthrush's cave
Undecanted the hot wine from a nanny's throat
And placed loaves on the greasy stones
Our baby's lips are blue
Our baby's eyes grow dim
Take it off! Take it off! Take it off - the whooping cough
As the doorway drew near our eldest appeared
With a bundle in her arms
It was clutching her tresses and nuzzling her breast
And the colour was returned
I used to hold him in the palm of one hand
Now he's grown as tall as I am
With the face of his mother veiled in downy gold
On the broad shoulders of a man
He is strong with the second sight
In these parts held in some renown
Using words not his own he veraciously foretold
Of a drought when the stream was bulging
When the pictures become too real
He buries his nose in the bush of my beard
And gently pinches my earlobe between thumb and forefinger
Until the present is restored
At the murmur of dawn there's a knock at the door
And a small man standing by
He is wearing a dogshide and flies for a crown
One good eye a sparkling well in his brow
I'd already acquainted myself of that voice
Before he'd even spoke:
"I have come to collect what is rightfully owed
Rouse the boy from slept
Get him bathed and dressed
It is time he kept your end of the bargain"
The bargain
The lyrics to Richard Dawson's song "Hob" depict a mystical and mythical tale, full of vivid imagery and emotions. The song begins with the singer and their companions ascending a treacherous path to reach the Hobthrush's cave. They offer a sacrificial ritual, pouring hot wine down a nanny's throat and placing loaves on greasy stones. This act is perhaps an offering or a plea for something they desire.
The next verse reveals the struggle and anguish of the singer. Their baby is sick, suffering from whooping cough, with lips turning blue and eyes growing dim. They desperately plead for the illness to be taken away, expressing their willingness to become indebted eternally if the baby could be saved. This illustrates the depth of their despair and the lengths they are willing to go to save their child.
As they approach the doorway of the cave, their eldest child appears with a bundle in her arms. The bundle, which turns out to be a baby, symbolizes the return of life and vitality. The child, once small and vulnerable, has now grown into a man with the face of their mother. This transformation represents the passage of time, the growth of their child, and the cyclical nature of life.
The final verse introduces a mysterious small man, possibly Hob himself, who comes to collect what is owed. The singer is instructed to awaken and prepare the grown child, as it is time for them to fulfill their end of the bargain. This ending leaves the listener with unanswered questions, inviting interpretation and speculation about the nature of the deal and its consequences.
Overall, "Hob" explores themes of sacrifice, devotion, and the complexities of human experiences. It intertwines elements of folklore and magical realism to create a rich and enigmatic narrative.
Line by Line Meaning
We ascended the foaming stair
We climbed up the turbulent stairs
To the mouth of the Hobthrush's cave
To the entrance of the cave belonging to the Hobthrush
Undecanted the hot wine from a nanny's throat
Poured the hot wine out of a nanny's throat without decanting
And placed loaves on the greasy stones
And put bread on the greasy stones
Our baby's lips are blue
Our infant's lips have turned blue
Our baby's eyes grow dim
Our baby's eyes are becoming dull
Take it off! Take it off! Take it off - the whooping cough
Remove the whooping cough from our baby
And we'd be your eternal debtors
And we would owe you forever
As the doorway drew near our eldest appeared
As we approached the doorway, our oldest child showed up
With a bundle in her arms
Holding a bundle in her arms
It was clutching her tresses and nuzzling her breast
The bundle was gripping her hair and nuzzling her breast
And the colour was returned
And the color came back
I used to hold him in the palm of one hand
I used to cradle him in my hand
Now he's grown as tall as I am
Now he has grown to be as tall as me
With the face of his mother veiled in downy gold
With his mother's face covered in soft golden hair
On the broad shoulders of a man
Resting on the strong shoulders of a man
He is strong with the second sight
He has a strong intuition
In these parts held in some renown
Well-known in this area
Using words not his own he veraciously foretold
Using someone else's words, he accurately predicted
Of a drought when the stream was bulging
About a drought when the stream was overflowing
When the pictures become too real
When the images become too vivid
He buries his nose in the bush of my beard
He buries his nose in my beard
And gently pinches my earlobe between thumb and forefinger
And softly squeezes my earlobe with his fingers
Until the present is restored
Until the current moment is returned
At the murmur of dawn there's a knock at the door
At the whisper of dawn, there's a knock on the door
And a small man standing by
And a little man standing there
He is wearing a dogshide and flies for a crown
He has a doghide on as a crown with flies on it
One good eye a sparkling well in his brow
One good eye shining brightly in his forehead
I'd already acquainted myself of that voice
I had already become familiar with that voice
Before he'd even spoke:
Before he even spoke:
I have come to collect what is rightfully owed
I have come to gather what is rightfully owed
Rouse the boy from slept
Wake the boy up from his sleep
Get him bathed and dressed
Bathe him and dress him
It is time he kept your end of the bargain
It is time he fulfills his part of the agreement
The bargain
The agreement
Lyrics © DOMINO PUBLISHING COMPANY
Written by: RICHARD MICHAEL DAWSON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind