1. |
The Hum
04:02
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The hum is the sound
In the sound, in the sound
Hum
Jennifer and Wayne would often times complain,
Viewing a house where a factory remained,
The singular reason they pulled out of the sale.
It would never pass in pursuit of middle class
To wake up to that din, It really wouldn’t do,
How could they retire when the poor refused to, when the poor refused to?
Clever Mrs B, she cared for herself,
Preferring poppies to cigarettes I’d say.
Found the poison nectar, draped in nicotine
Equivalent of dose to 60 fags a day.
Should we side with pest, or let human do its best?
Eradicate with ease, a hundred million years
The hum is the people is the sound
Of the people in the sound
Are the people in the sound
Of the people is the
Hum, is the buzzing is the sound
Of the buzzing of the bees,
Is the humming of the
Sound of the buzzing is the
Hum
To wake up to that din, It really wouldn’t do,
How could they retire when the poor refused to, when the poor refused to?
The hum is a factory is a mine is a playground is a hive is a garden is a school is a village is a choir is a forest is a town is a person is a group is a heart is a mind is a voice is the hum.
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2. |
Just a Note
03:02
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Just a note for time is short dear
Hard the work and long the day
But my heart is with you Mary
Though I’m many the miles away
Kiss the children for me Mary
Do not let them pine nor grieve
Tell them how I’m working for them
Why our home I had to leave
Building dams, airfields and factories
Shifting concrete by the load
I’ll be with you in September
When I’m finished on the road
Just a note for time is short dear
Hard the work and long the day
But my heart is with you Mary
Though I’m many the miles away
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3. |
Summat's Brewin'
03:10
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Oh good ale thou art my darling
Thou art my joy both night and morning.
Summat’s brewing on Yorkshire soil
Outhouse, cellar, garage or shed
A band of brewers with local pride
The real ale revolution spreads
Stir the mash, bring to the boil
Add the hops and build the taste
Anorak or anarchist
Arouse, arouse, your pint awaits
Landlord come fill up the glass
With patience and a steady hand
Top it up don’t waste a drop
Then you can be thankful...
In those dark satanic mills
Citra, Topaz, Bramling cross,
The artisan dreams up the mix
A blend of two or single hop
Pale and hoppy, or nutty slack
Fruity, mellow, tangy, cool
What will whet the appetite
Of flavour chaser’s jug tonight
Landlady fill up the glass
With banter and acerbic wit
Top it up don’t waste a drop
Then we can be joyful...
Mallinson’s, Milltown, Magic Rock,
Sportsman, Riverhead, Summerwine
From far afield to Huddersfield
Common beer not corporot
Come one, come all raise your glass
To save the grand old local pub
Top it up, this one’s on me
Let us all be merry
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4. |
Two Mothers
05:48
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As I lay you gently down to sleep,
I hear my mother’s voice lilting to me.
Unexpected child was I upon a young girl.
Through her tears she sang me farewell.
Come sing a song for the mothers,
Who held you in their arms, when you were a child.
Who sacrificed their dreams for ours, taught us to fly,
Soothing our fears with her lullaby.
Wrapped up in my mother’s crotched shawl,
I crossed a far away sea to a world turned around.
New hands, a bottle, kind eyes and a strange lullaby,
My new mother answered my cries.
Time like the tide she ebbs and flows,
And in my arms I cradle a child of my own.
Her eyes the forest green, whilst mine are cornflower blue.
Perhaps they’re a keepsake from you?
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5. |
Peculiar Brood
03:10
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t’s time,
Said the mother gull.
Pulling her chicks closer.
Their tiny hearts beating,
She loves them fiercely.
Her clutch.
Her brethren.
It’s time,
Said the brother, gulled
Brandishing book like sword.
His hands upon her shoulders,
Testament unspoken.
The threat.
The promise.
It’s time
As wing released.
Peculiar brood.
All beak and claw,
Into this world.
The threat
The promise.
It’s time.
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6. |
Like Horses
04:35
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In the gloaming; the darkening
Morpheus whispers his sweet lullaby
Silent prayers are mouthed
“Send him home safely”, “I’ll be good”
Three; the loneliest hour
For cowards, fools and me.
Why can’t we be...
Like Horses
Horses
Like Horses
Gentle and king
From the blood plains, to the high street.
Where does the boy go, that becomes the man.
Inward grieving, outward seething,
Self deceiving, human.
Three; the loneliest hour
Uncovers the child in us all.
Why can’t we be...
Like Horses
Horses
Like Horses
Gentle and king
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7. |
Come Down From the Moor
04:56
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As I walked out one May morning,
All still under monochrome sky.
Sleep lay heavy on rounded shoulders,
Head lowered, I made my way.
Up along the old bog road,
Past O’Donnells, across the ditch.
Turned my gaze towards Ox Mountains,
To where Anne used to sing.
Come down from the moor
Your children’s children leaving
Gone to find a job
Ten thousand miles away.
Early spring, turf cutting time,
Backs bent double against the line
Neatly stacked, quickly sacked,
Move along and put away.
Anne’s song, pure as mountain air
Could be heard singing ‘The Silvery Tide’
Shafts of sun on a foggy day
A hand me down of hope denied
Come down from the moor
Your children’s children leaving
Gone to find a job
Ten thousand miles away.
As cool respite to jaunty jigs
Gathered amidst familial craic of
Uncles and cousins and daddy’s voice
Mellifluous in recitation.
Passed down through the generations,
Shared heartbeat of this congregation,
Now pulsing for a better seam
Far beyond the silvery tide
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8. |
Coil and Spring
03:56
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Ave Maria, Ave Maria…
Every echo deathly old
Every crucifix drowned in gold
Every litany a curse run cold
Invocation wrung dry
Benediction bid goodbye
In a place where love comes to die
But there’s a new noise in the church
It’s the sound of a spanner in the works
Unholy choir
Waking the dead
Where fallen angels
Don’t fear to tread
There’s a racket and a ring
See the madcaps coil and spring
Hear the hymnal start to swing
Holy mother come down
Say a prayer to sense and sound
Take my arm and we’ll dance around
For there’s a new noise in the church
It’s the sound of a spanner in the works
Unholy choir
Waking the dead
Where fallen angels
Don’t fear to tread
Unholy choir
Waking the dead
Where fallen angels
Don’t fear to tread
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9. |
Ruins by the Shore
04:17
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10. |
Kitsune
06:05
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O'Hooley & Tidow Huddersfield, UK
ENGLAND'S ANSWER TO THE MCGARRIGLES
* * * * *
GUARDIAN
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