Jonathan Filmography

• Afro-Centrix Volume 44: Tattooed Blacks (1998)
• Booty Squad (1998)
• Booty Talk 2: Spunky's Big Ass Party (1998)
• Booty Talk: Gettin' Down to Nasty Heat... With a Beat (1998)
• Chillin' with Jake Steed's Freaks Whoes & Flows 2 (1998)
• Viola bacia tutti (1998)
• Xicu'l toperu (1994)

So, Jonathan Filmography

• Boxed In (2010)
• A Secret Mark of Grace (2010)
• A Secret Mark of Grace (2010)
• Boxed In (2010)

Down, Jonathan Filmography

• A Birthday (2011)
• Analyse (2009)

Jonathan

Cast

• Jonathan Davies
• Nigel Owens
• Alex Jones
• Rowland Phillips

• Episode : (2010-02-05)
  UK:5 February 2010...
• Episode : (2010-03-19)
  UK:19 March 2010...
• Episode : (2010-02-12)
  UK:12 February 2010...
• Episode : (2010-03-12)
  UK:12 March 2010...
• Episode : (2010-03-05)
  UK:5 March 2010...
• Episode : (2010-02-19)
  UK:19 February 2010...
• Episode : (2010-02-26)
  UK:26 February 2010...

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Jonathan - Barclay James Harvest
• Jonathan - The Barclay James Harvest
• Jonathan - Kathy Mar
• Jonathan - Nerf Herder
• Jonathan - Fiona Apple
• Jonathan - Lonewolf
• Jonathan - Wendy & Lisa
• Jonathan - Renaud

Circles in the sky
White as paper fly
Sound of seagulls crying fills the air
High above the lonely one is there
Jonathan he cares
To feel better
Like the passing wind
Swooping down again
Waitin' for the sun to turn to night
Find him miles away in endless flight
Longing to be free
Telling you and me
Give me wings to fly
Tell me why, tell me why
The answer must be heard
And from a lonely bird
He's giving us a reason to believe
See the painted silver sunlight on his wing
As he sails upon the wind and slowly skyward
Flying as to music you can hear him sing
Like the windsong on the breeze he seems to sigh
Give me wings to fly
Tell me why, tell me why
The answer must be heard
And from a lonely bird

Circles in the sky
White as paper fly
Sound of seagulls crying fills the air
High above the lonely one is there
Jonathan he cares
To feel better
Like the passing wind
Swooping down again
Waitin' for the sun to turn to night
Find him miles away in endless flight
Longing to be free
Telling you and me
Give me wings to fly
Tell me why, tell me why
The answer must be heard
And from a lonely bird
He's giving us a reason to believe See the painted silver sunlight on his wing
As he sails upon the wind and slowly skyward
Flying as to music you can hear him sing
Like the windsong on the breeze he seems to sigh
Give me wings to fly
Tell me why, tell me why
The answer must be heard
And from a lonely bird
He's showing us the way we can be free

This little trunk holds Jonathan's love letters
Bound so neatly in ribbons of silk
Jonathan had such beautiful penmanship
Written on parchment as white as milk
Jonathan's words arranged chronologically
Month by month and then day by day
Jonathan surely wrote me quite frequently
Jonathan had such a lot to say
Chorus: My sweet Jonathan wrote me constantly
All he hoped to be, all he dreamed
How the world was too bright and beautiful
How the people weren't all they seemed
Jonathan wrote when he was out traveling
How he hated each social affair
Jonathan swore he soon would come back to me
We'd get married and settle somewhere
Jonathan wrote with caring and tenderness
How he loved me so simple and pure
Jonathan said those colorful party girls
All were too forward to be endured
Chorus
Jonathan wrote me on a clear summer's day
Told me with sorrow we'd never wed
Some little tramp accused him of raping her
Jonathan never was in her bed
She was expecting one or two little ones
Honor would force him to make her wife
Jonathan swore he'd always remember me
All through his terrible married life
Chorus
Jonathan wrote once more in his perfect hand
Told me that when all the fuss should die
And his rich bride went off for the holidays
He would come just for one last goodbye
Jonathan came at midnight on Christmas eve
One more sweet letter was in his hand
Saying that all his wealth was such misery
Swearing his life was at my command
Chorus
This little trunk holds Jonathan's love letters
Reading them still can be lots of fun
This little trunk holds Jonathan's every word

Straight out of Boston
To reinvent the modern rock and roll
He put down the cigarette and dropped out of B.U.
Too sensitive for this world
Too sensitive for that girl
He could look right through the Cezans
If he had a girlfriend
A g-i-r-l-f-r-e-n
In the astral plane
Too sensitive for this world
Too sensitive for that girl
Please God don't let me end up like Jonathan Richman
Turn the radio off
He was never called an asshole
As he would walk past the Fenway
Modern girls modern rock and roll
He's straight you're stoned
Too sensitive for this world
Too sensitive for that girl
Please God don't let me end up like Jonathan Richman
Turn the radio off
Please God don't let me end up like Jonathan
Please God don't let me end up like Jonathan

Jonathan, call again
Take me to Coney Island
Take me on the train
Kiss me while I calculate
And calibrate and heaven's sake
Don't make me explain
Just tolerate my little fist
Tugging on your forest chest
I don't wanna talk about
I don't wanna talk about anything
I don't wanna talk about
I don't wanna talk about anything
Jonathan, anything
And anyone that you have done
Has gotta be alright with me
If she's part of
The reason you are how you are
She's alright with me
Just tolerate my little fist
Tugging on your forest chest
I don't wanna talk about
I don't wanna talk about anything
I don't wanna talk about
I don't wanna talk about anything
You like to captain
A capsized ship
But I like watching you live [x2]
Jonathan, call again
Take me to Coney Island
Take me on the train
Kiss me while I calculate
And calibrate and heaven's sake
Don't make me explain
Just tolerate my little fist
Tugging on your forest chest
I don't wanna talk about
I don't wanna talk about anything
I don't wanna talk about

Jonathan, Jonathan, where have you been ?
I was searching for you since you once left me.
Tell me, Boy, did you ever miss
your sweet home and a single kiss,
oh, Jonathan, Jonathan, where have you been ?
Mother, oh, Mother dear don’t you cry,
I also missed you, but I had to fly,
fly away from my once loved home,
fly away, weak and on my own,
Mother, oh, Mother dear don’t you cry.
Oh please, forgive your son,
Son, will you stay by my side,
I have to leave you once again,
don’t forget the place you can hide.
Mother, oh, Mother dear don’t you cry.
Solo
Fly my only son,

i think we were five when we met
we were so alive then and yet
we would not survive
now i know
yours was not a face to grow old
oh oh no my old soul
you left me much too soon
how i love you
oh i
i was so surprised when you left
i was like a child how i wept
but i guess it's ok now
go to sleep
and i will pray the lord your soul to keep
oh oh no my old soul
you left me much too soon
much much too soon
how i love you
oh i
somewhere down the road i will be walking
and everything i know will be following
maybe then i'll see you
and i will tell you
you always were an angel to me

U jonathane uyi judana
Uyi sihlanyana
U'mngisana uhi nzulana
Kodwa u jonathane u m'afrika
Nge nzalo
Irebele, elehlaza elemile
Entre guitare et fusil
Jonathan a bien choisi
Ses chansons sont des pav? s
Des br? lots
Qui donnent des ailes aux marmots
Sa musique a fait rouiller
Les barbel? s
Et sci? bien des barreaux
A Soweto, dans le ghetto
Jonathan pourtant ne porte aucun drapeau
Entre le noir et le blanc
Jonathan n'a pas choisi
Car depuis la nuit des temps
Il sait aussi
Que tous les salauds sont gris
Que l'homme est un loup pour l'homme
Un peu partout
Jonathan sait pourtant
Qu'? Soweto, dans le ghetto
Les loups blancs sont plus sauvages et plus m? chants
Jonathan est un peu feuj' et un peu fou
Un peu british, un peu zoulou
Mais Jonathan est africain avant tout
Rebelle, vivant et debout
Entre les loups, les agneaux
Jonathan, je t'ai choisi
Tu m'as racont? Neil Aggett
Et Steve Biko
Assassin? s par les fachos
Moi je t'ai parl? d'Eloi Machoro
Des enfoir? s qu'ont eu sa peau
Et puis Lo? c, et puis nos flics
Jonathan, pr? te-moi ta guitare que j' t'explique
Jonathan, je suis comme toi un peu fou
Un peu kanak, un peu zoulou
Un peu beur, un peu basque, un peu tout
Rebelle, vivant et debout
Entre guitare et fusil
Jonathan a bien choisi
Ses chansons sont des pav? s
Des br? lots
Qui donnent des ailes aux marmots
Sa musique a fait rouiller
Les barbel? s
Et sci? s bien des barreaux
A Soweto, dans le ghetto