Southern Fire

from by Micky Dey

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London is a very dangerous place. While I lived there, numerous times I very nearly lost my life. This song’s about one particular time on the Old Kent Road. The day before that had probably been the worst of my life up until that point. The day after made that one feel like fucking Christmas. Always wear a bike helmet.

When your days are colder than your nights,
You know that, somewhere, some place down the line,
There is a a Southern Fire burning bright, in some sullied mind.

The trucks and vans they roll on by,
Despite the roads that are crumbling all the while.
Remind of when birds were still in flight in this boy’s mind.

That fire will never light here.
Those birds, they never fly here.
And I, I will not die here.

Go feast your mind on what it wants, surprise us.
For what it needs lies far beyond your horizon.
The hollow soul you bear below,
Your skin so pale it seems to glow.

Forget that meaningless resolve that you’ve put on.
To lace that waste of space you call your place,
To store your frankly shameful standing point.
Less talk, comes more hope.

Align your bones and lie down here.
Resign, your time is nearly here.
For you and I to disappear.

And I will not die here.


from Roam, released April 8, 2014



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Micky Dey Vienna, Austria

Micky Dey is a folk-rock artist, born and bred in the bleak and brutal valleys of Northern England, but recently moved to Vienna. His vocal melodies soar from broken and delicate depths to defiant and rich highs, sitting somewhere within the song writing styles of Elliott Smith, Jeff Buckley and Laura Stevenson, full of stories of his years living in the capital and touring this continent. ... more

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