The Time Trilogy

The Time Trilogy

Reviewed by Steve Bennett / Two Time BAFTA Winner Screenwriter And Musician

Few contemporary musicians are as adroit in conjuring the quintessentially English stylings of classic prog-rock as Martin Springett. The grandiose melodic sweep and structural complexity that decorate the timeless work of Yes, Pink Floyd, King Crimson and Caravan come as second nature to Martin. He grew up in that world. He speaks its language effortlessly and eloquently. Fortunately – especially for us, his audience – rather than simply pay homage to the treasures of the past, he has always sought to move the story on, to add new ingredients to the mix and challenge the misplaced notion of ‘prog’ as an outdated and ironic misnomer in the 21st century.

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FOREVER LEAVING HOME / Lyrics by Terry Findlay 

Music By Martin Springett

A missing ship

adrift in heaving darkened seas

a waning moon dims behind a slowly drifting cloud

A lone sailor keeping watch

is praying to his sunken gods

for a sign 

for a sign to follow home

to follow home


A jagged flash 

lightening blinds his seeking eyes

in the darkness following a spectral form appears

offering everlasting safety

relief from curiosity

believing in salvation

the sailor shakes it’s hand


A missing ship

Adrift in heaving darkened seas

A waning moon dims behind a slowly drifting cloud

A lone sailor keeping watch

Is praying to his sunken gods

For a sign 

For a sign to follow home


Now the faithful sailor

Sails from sea to foreign sea

always believing that safe harbour is drawing near

but as the years go by 

without arrival on the shore

the sailor wonders if a deal made in desperation

can ever save your soul

ever save your soul


Forever leaving home


SISTER OF THEFT / Lyrics from a poem by Sandra Kasturi 

Music by Martin Springett


Time is the mother of invention

And the sister of theft

It is the glass globe of hand spun conjurings

On the end of the spindle shaft


Dancing in the shadow of the long hand

Twirling in the lee of the short hand

Time is the mother of invention

And the sister of theft

WOMAN IN THE WAVES / Words and Music by Martin Springett


The thunder rolls 

as white foam flies

against the steel grey skies of Perthudden

A woman stands 

amongst the pounding waves

tied to mast and to rigging


Three see her there

from the darkening shore

her hand is raised as if in greeting

Then closed to a fist 

it becomes a hook 

In the heart of the one she has chosen


Now the one of three 

whose heart is pierced 

must step into the churning waves

To join her there 

amidst the rising tide

to drown 

or to take her as his bride


Instrumental interlude      


On thunderous dark and lonely nights

the two are the ocean’s children

their faces are masks of madness and love

As thunder rains down from above

Bright kisses 

fall upon them

Bright kisses 

fall upon them