1. |
Lull a baby
03:41
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Opening doors of excitement
Your eyes wide
Wondering “what's it all about?”
All of the colours of the rainbow
To you are One,
Your little feet
Haven't touched ground.
Looks like you're stuck with us!
We're the ones they call your Parents.
But don't worry ...
We're gonna sing & dance with the stars
And chat to the moon
To the tune of everyday things
Until it seems you can stand on your own
... Then you'll write own melody ...
Opening doors of excitement
Your eyes wide
Wondering “what's it all about”?
All of the colours of the rainbow
To you are One,
Your little feet
Haven't touched ground.
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2. |
Fantastically In Love
03:33
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If I was given the brains
To fly a plane up high,
Or I was elected
President of the World.
If I was guaranteed
A Number One hit song,
Do you wonder what I would say? Do you wonder?
If all the secrets of alchemy
Were to be shared with me,
Or the Matrix code
I was promised to be told,
If I could choose the key to
Any home I'd dream to own,
Do you wonder what I would day? Do you wonder?
If I could choose from a menu
Of wishful delights –
Eternal youth, the wisdom of a Sage.
If any of the above meant I'd have to leave your side ...
My answer would be ... No Thanks! ... I'm alright.
I'm more than alright, I'm fantastic!
Fantastically in love with you.
You're fantastic,
And I'm in love.
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3. |
Perfect Speciman
04:17
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In the twitter of the bird
I hear your song,
Although you'd be out of tune,
You'd sing along.
In the scent of the flower
I smell your head –
That aged, familiar patch,
Shiny and bare.
And the crescent of the moon
Is your armchair.
The random passersby are
Your cheerleaders.
Each letterbox on the road's
Your messenger.
Every overhanging hedge
Needs your clippers.
You stand on the foot to the peak.
You live from the spring to the sea.
Nothing is left out,
You're in everything –
That's what you mean to me.
In the train journey's rhythm,
Your fingers drum.
'Cross the daily newspapers
Your words are found.
In a shaky, baby step
You leap and bound
Taking life's challenges on
A merry-go-round.
To the wound-down stopped clock,
You keep your time.
And the polyfilled walls
Outline your smiles.
Inside rotten apple cores,
Nectar you find.
In a tin of rusty nails,
Your treasure lies.
You stand on the foot to the peak.
You live from the spring to the sea.
Nothing is left out,
You're in everything –
That's what you mean to me.
... the story ...
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4. |
Seaside
03:44
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Everything was cool, everything was calm
Everything was just as it should be out for the day on the sand.
Everything was crazy, everything was mad
It was just the way that it can be while you're enjoying the sand.
“Look!” he said. “Look at the heavenly place we are.
I would like to frequent the seaside”.
Nothing there was musty, stuffy, glum or hot
The heat there was something different, not ever found a lot.
Nothing there was there, everyone was gone
They were there in body but their spirit had flown along, with the wind.
“Look!” he said. “Look at the heavenly place we are.
I would like to frequent the seaside”.
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5. |
Pyrrhus
02:23
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I am twenty and I know everything
’Have experienced it all – the whole life-death thing
Now I will travel the world
Meet my destiny just like Daddy did.
I will decide over night, leave my country
Only temporarily, my teenage darling.
Didn’t mean to meet someone
who’d change everything, who’d change you and me.
[he says] Don’t you know you’re all I want?
[she says] Is that what you think?
[he says] You are everything she’s not.
[she says] Oh what a pity!
[he says] I will always have you in
My dreams, my dreams.
Polyxena seems to know everything
If I go, for her I’ll go – she will wait for me.
I will defeat all the blows.
But of the blow to me? … bitter-sweet Barbie.
I will return over night, wind sailing the sea
Polyxena eternally,
Ever at my weak heel,
Didn’t mean to kill someone
who’d change you and me, who’d change my destiny.
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6. |
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You decide to walk alone,
No need to be shown the way.
Everything you need is on you,
Fully prepared for the day.
Just as long as no one stops you.
(Little clever clogs delayed?)
Don’t ask you any questions
That you might find too difficult to explain
Well, I have one for you…
How couldn’t you’ve known
All I wanted to see
Is all that you wanted to give?
Is this not what you always wanted?
Led me along like I was the one leading.
But on the descent of smoke
I could see you caving,
Self stone-in,
I’m chipping, whittling, let me in!
Come and let our fingers lead us
Inside and out of the cold.
Let us sit, warm by the fire
And listen to it roar.
Can you hear the chimney breathing?
From the hearth upwards it soars.
Can you see everything clear from here?
Now that you’ve opened!
And now, my friend, share with me and let it go…
How couldn’t you’ve known
That all you ever wanted
Is all that you already have?
Never was very far, always near.
You never asked.
You stopped to ask!
No answers to no questions.
As long as we seek
After you and me
We will find our way.
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7. |
In the Pause
03:40
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Never really knew him,
Seen him all around.
In a cafe singing
Or just hanging about.
Then to get a message
'That dude's passed away',
It got me thinking
A dying man's words must say ...
They must say,
“I've lived life to the full,
Tasting, trying everything I possibly could,
Open-eyed and stolling down every avenue.”
And they must say, “I'm not sorry for anything”.
Maybe he'll stick around,
Get to know him after all.
He'll be in the music,
In the pause.
Maybe he'll inspire
A dance in me & you.
Notes with no air
Melodying through.
They must say,
“I've lived life to the full,
Tasting, trying everything I possibly could,
Open-eyed and stolling down every avenue.”
And they must say, “I'm not sorry for anything”.
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8. |
L'Appetite
03:36
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She enters the classroom quietly with feet of lead,
A scarf of morning sickness wrapped tightly around her head.
She cannot read or write this tongue, three words she’s barely said,
Her head’s too heavy to keep up, the little soldierette.
Listening carefully, yet mistaking Js for Gs
She keeps her eye not far from sight of others’ pencillings.
In corner of my vision some reason draws me to her pen –
Something peculiar ’bout it questioning its origin.
Lesson continues testily, I see her struggling.
Her pregnant hands are sweating writing uncomfortably.
I think how far she is from home, her husband – should I ring?
All she probably needs is his care and understanding.
Though far from home, tradition she carries where e’er she goes –
Takes lemon out of her school bag and clutches to her nose.
No bitter tears of knowing find their way on to her face
But roughly handled wrists cry out – there’s something out of place.
This woman with the others is devoted to her man
Although before she married neither knew nor loved him.
She’s one of many penned in to carry his legend.
Deluded, misguided that living here’s the better thing.
It all becomes too much, she shoots up, pacing round the space,
Dizzy in her head, losing all orientation.
Assisted by a sister, she rushes to retch.
Ten minutes later she returns, pen resumes its place.
Continuing with letters I curb my catechism –
Just speak in tender tones, make sure student is settling.
But as the class progresses after such an unjust plight,
I cannot ignore this woman is suffering big time.
She works hard learning a language that’s totally foreign,
Staying within the confines of a displaced Koran.
Respectfully subjugating herself to the plan
She upholds his morals, veiling her beauty from men.
I deliberate consciously, not wanting to intrude,
Because she simply perhaps picked the pen up on the way to school –
This piece of plastic merchandise in Englishless fingers,
I fear is to reveal ultimate disillusionment.
I ask her where it was she found her writing implement.
The others help translate, “’Twas from her husband. A present!”
I stretch over and read what’s written on his gift to her.
On this pen is the logo of the local lapdance club.
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9. |
Tick Tock
04:12
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Like a hand that's going round
12, 11, 10, ending at One.
Ascending when looking down
Making difficult what's simple.
Dared with left? right? up? or down?
Trapping yourself to the route given
Have no time for out of bounds,
Wrap up potential with a taut ribbon.
City life allows no living,
Always going against the clock.
There is no escape from the ringing.
Needing space time to sit down,
A place there is no television,
Interpret what's going on –
De-clutterise each thought one by one.
There's not only one solution.
Maybe is for mathematician,
But some corrections can be wrong.
Make way for the individual.
City life allows no living,
Always going against the clock.
There is no escape from the ringing.
tick tock ... tick tock ... tick tock ...
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Hilary Bow Cork, Ireland
Irish composer/singer, jazz lover, Bugle Babe. Has performed/recorded/collaborated with Liam O'Maonlaí, Mary Coughlan, Ronan
Guilfoyle & Irish language poet Gabriel Rosenstock.
Previous releases include albums "Sean Nova" (Gaeilge versions of jazz standards in bossa nova style) & "Oneness"; singles "Don't See Any Lines" (written for MASI), and 1940s arrangement of Canned Heat's "Poor Moon".
... more
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