1. |
The Parting
03:49
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The Parting
We dont part like a dockers last round
Down the hatch boys - sinking into free fall
We can’t part like a catkin, falling from an aldar tree
Bursting in the air with pollen and promise and memory
Sometimes the summer leaves without a refrain
Sometimes your face, a picture in minds frame
Out of my head like a werewolf, in a drunken tryst
The comfort of a body, but your name upon my lips
We better leave like a heron leaves the river
There’s always a murmur, a ripple or a quiver
We don’t part like a Hollywood end
Too many Strings and syrup and hearts that never mend
We can’t part like a blackbird from its final tune
Little by little, the wind carries it to the dune
Today we’re caterpillars
Tomorrow butterflies
Painted like Caravaggio
Across a Summer sky
You’ll go your way and I’ll go mine
A parting dance, kaleidoscoping just outta time
We better leave like a heron leaves the river
There’s always a murmur, a ripple or a quiver
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2. |
Patsy Cline
03:41
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Patsy Cline
When we’re in our wild place
I can only hear you
Rising like a country tune
Pedal steel crying leading to ruin
Thought I had you where I want you
I could be in LA
All the silver rooftops
All the crazy cries of lovers
No match for your wildfire
It’s better than a quiet life
There ya go
Wrongfooting me every time
Just when I think I’ve the essence of you
You steer me off Balance, like Patsy Cline
Here you are, pointing to a different climb
Just when I think I’ve caught up with you
You walk after midnight like patsy cline
Our wild place
Holds no trace
Just a fragment
Of the way we were
I went fumbling and foraging
Looking for our wild place
Found your scarlet letter
Read it twice and kissed it better
Buried words to be reaped and sown
The things I’ve done
I’ve told to you
Wouldn’t tell to whisperin pines
We were our own captain and our crew
If love is a wild place
We rode horses from the ocean
There ya go
Wrongfooting me every time
Just when I think I’ve the essence of you
You steer me off Balance, like Patsy Cline
Here you are, pointing to a different climb
Just when I think I’ve caught up with you
You walk after midnight like patsy cline
Our wild place
Holds no trace
Just a fragment
Of the way we were
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3. |
Sea Swimming
04:42
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Martha took her time - like the perfect crime
Pale Toes glistening on cool water
Caressing little waves and drowning sin
Confessing raw desire, then diving in
I made a bea line for the brine
Didn’t think of the ice cold - upper or lower
Healing all that pain, in green and blue
Me and Martha, sun coming through
Sea swimming - heart willing - I’ll dive with you into the dawn
Cured and renewed in the tide, reborn
Sea swimming - it’s fitting - with sunlight dancing on your skin
Naked as a morning - with you again and again
Sea weed and musk, like blind mans buff
Feeling all the feels without warning - upper
REM on your speaker phone
Cockles and clams make undertones
The Meeting of our water signs
Laughing in the tide with no motive - upper
Waves that hurl us into one
Something brewing, nearly begun
Sea swimming - heart willing - I’ll dive with you into the dawn
Cured and renewed in the tide, reborn
Sea swimming - it’s fitting - with sunlight dancing on your skin
Naked as a morning - with you again and again
Martha took her time - like the perfect crime
Pale Toes glistening on cool water
Caressing little waves and drowning sin
Confessing raw desire, then diving in
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4. |
Bloom like Orchids
05:59
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Bloom Like Orchids
I dreamed a choir a swaying, the sound, it painted murals of black angels
They sang, “there ain’t no word, there ain’t no feeling
To show that rage a seething.”
They sang, “listen boy, listen good,
Don’t try to empathise,
You’ll never walk in these shoes
To look at your son and think of Emmett Till,
The Gallant South that’s gone with the wind.”
Singing, “I sass and style but I don’t own my own surname
Burnt like an heirloom - our roots are scattered to the wind
I’ll break these chains that you can’t see
My children gonna bloom like an orchid
They gonna dream a dream that dreams back at me
They can surrender to the air and ride it and be free
I dreamed a Hard killing floor, they’re raising fists to beat the band
Overturning old ways - questioning law and and the lie of the land
If those blues notes wink at you, rejuvenate your senses like the morning dew
Rewrite our history or let the shame
droop like willow tree - there no alternative
Chorus
I dreamed of Lady Day - standing like a Harlem Queen
Bate from pleasing Yankees and white folks
She asked, “Are things much different now?”
She looked at my uncertainty
The murels of black angels quick singing in their urgency
She pointed at three brothers, and took my hand
And walked me to a better land
She sang, “I got sass and style, But I don’t own my own surname
Burnt like an heirloom, my roots are scattered to the wind
I’ll break these chains that you can’t see
My children gonna bloom like an orchid
They gonna dream a dream that dreams back at me
They can surrender to the air and ride it and be free
I dreamed a choir a swaying
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5. |
High C
04:33
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High C
(For Peggy)
An apple tart, wafting on the window
Caked in lore, baked in love for me
Those old ghosts won’t sit still and keep their oars out
They’re rippling up a tide, it’s deep and it’s wide
It floods the kitchen with memory, brings smiling and beguiling
You bake on, blue eyes wide, defiant yet forgiving
Constantly inviting all your love for us to rise up in a pie
I watch it caramelise
The thing about hurt, it hangs in the air
A subtext that’s felt, but never spoken
Keeping the show on the road, like a trouper
With fences to mend, babies to tend
You got the spell and the spark, it sends our worries out to sea
Silver machinery, wrapped up in harmony
Now you’re fading from High C, no rhyme or reason, just a season
To lay low beside your family
The axis of your Heart, turns and burns
On the orbit of all our love for all you are
I’m a stream and you’re the source,
When I turn around and you’re not there,
I see your blue eyes and they sparkle like a flare
You whispered “mind yourself”
Though you’re not there, I hear ya, “mind yourself”, like a prayer
“Mind yourself”
Vocals and piano: Jack O”Rourke
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6. |
Strange Bird
04:48
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Strange Bird
Strange bird flying through deserted towns
She got no plumage, she got no song
Records all the quiet in her memory
If she’s a computer, then what are we?
Hugs are few here, hugs are scarce
That bird up there, she can find no trace
She’s scans the town for some human touch
We keep our distance, we don’t embrace too much
Oh to hold you tight Like it’s out of style
Oh to hold you tight, when the sun goes down
A boy outstretches little hand
His grandad meets his through a sheet of glass
A window pane like the Berlin Wall
To a little boy it don’t make sense at all
Trudy drank manhattans in a bar of chrome
Now she buys her milk at the break of dawn
It’s far from cocktails she was raised
She hopes her world will be left unscathed
Oh to hold you tight Like it’s out of style
Oh to hold you tight, when the sun goes down
For a silver moo, shine down on our town
Let your light shine on
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7. |
Runaway Train
03:12
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Runaway Train
Landscape flashes, batten down the hatches
Trees and streams, movie reels, through windows on a train
Shades of you, midnight blue fall into the unknown
They don’t fade away, it you store ‘em for a Winter They don’t fade away, if you keep ‘em in our larder
I Wanna make love to you on a runaway train
No route or tracks of tears - just an open, rolling plain
We’ll Crash into ocean, wrapped in waves of foam
Lost in you, you lost in me, our way to roam
On a runaway train
This train rolls in, wheels sigh and break
Your arched back against the city scape
Eyes of wine, tell tale signs, let’s shelter from this storm
Build a love nest, open fire, watcb the flames transform
They won’t burn out, if you fan them during Winter
They won’t burn out, if you gather all our embers
It’s a beautiful night, turn down that worry
It’s a beautiful night, turn your face to the wind and the sea
Chorus
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8. |
Opera On The Top Floor
03:42
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Opera On The Top Floor
(For Aiden, Michael & all secret sanctuaries)
Status Quo blasts from a jukebox
The lads I grew up with play air guitar, conjuring youth
Hunched at the bar, I hear dreams that turned to dust, till I ring out for last call
A pint takes a minute to settle
The creamy head rises and lands like a chorus of hums
Regulars catching my eye to change their tune,but I aint a conductor
I got opera on the top floor, where violins cry and arias explode
I’m riding with those Valkyies to Lohengrin, I’ve got my own Valhalla in Listowel
The boyos sing Elvis and skiffle
Perched with their porter like vulture chicks waiting to hatch
Leopardstown races and darts don’t soothe the soul, I’m a fish outta water
A child of Pragues beedy eye judges
He might blow the whistle if my world collided with theirs
After the final, John gave us a drunk Nessun Dorm, and for once I felt kinship
I got opera on the top floor, where violins cry and arias explode
I’m riding with those Valkyies to Lohengrin, I’ve got my own Valhalla in Listowel
And that opera on the top floor, well no one knows, it’s under lock and key
The needle hits the vinyl, I’m away on the wind, every secret needs a sanctuary
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9. |
Coffee Song
04:23
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Coffee Song
In a cafe worked a lady, pouring art with foam to rival Kandinsky, for me
Thunder In the morning, aint it just the way
When the dragons are your head, with tales of dread
You need a fix, before you face the day
The scent of Coffee roasting, it’s like a sitcom from The Bronx
Hits your senses just like a wave, your cravings cave
You lift the latch, your eyes lock with hers
In a magazine, there was a beauty queen
Serving coffee refills with a Southern smile
She don’t hold a torch to my love hearts
Pouring foam like Andy Warhol’s art just for me
Morning rituual, love perpetual, in a cup of Joy
She worked here since the 80’, when pumpkin lattes were a myth
Flunked all of her college dreams
For punk rock schemes, of playing bass with Patti Smith
But all that never happened, so I bought this joint For me
I’ve been pouring shapes in their cups, fill them up
A little joy, a little art to break up the monotony
Here’s a lighthouse.here’s New Jersey
Here’s a railway for your model train
“What’s your filter? What’s your poison?”
I Tell her all my worries, I don’t say your name
Here’s a baseball for my homerun
Here’s a jukebox with the hit parade
Play Aretha, I’ll let you lead
Whirl me around this joint before the sun comes up at dawn
Morning rituual, love perpetual, in a cup of Joy
You’re a cup of joy
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10. |
Amy
03:43
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Amy
Momma can’t turn off the light, she hasn’t heard Baby
Shes out with a crowd, she calls her congregation
There’s secrets that sparkle that Momma don’t know
Momma she brushstrokes the sky, with high hopes and mantras and sighs
And prays to all that’s divine for a sign, that Baby’s not using her lifelines
Candy canes crackle, her minds all a racket
Reaching for colours that don’t got no name
Cowboys and gargoyles sing Hey Macarena
The devil and Moses are whispering Shame
Mommas baby was never
Fates hand are cursed by mimicking muses
Baby burned far too brightly before she got old
Like Cobain, there’s no gain in laying it all out there
Ya reach for red moons and then you’re out cold
Candy canes crackle, her minds all a racket
Reaching for colours that don’t got no name
Cowboys and gargoyles sing Hey Macarena
The devil and Moses are whispering Shame
Mommas baby was never
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11. |
Ithaca
03:04
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Ithaca
Rules of travel come undone
You drop your compass, I was always waiting
Maislin sheets with tired arms
Our Hieroglyphic limbs entangled gasping
There's no need to run away
You can always chose to stay till dawn
Sirens call but you and I outsing them
I can be your wanderlust
Let me be your journeys end
Your homeward bound your lost and found
Your Ithaca
Steering shops without a stern,
I lay beneath your wings that soared like condors
I wipe the eyes of all storms, dramatic landscapes fall away to valleys
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12. |
Timshel
02:27
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Jack O'Rourke Cork, Ireland
Jack O’Rourke was described by Hotpress as “one of Ireland’s most gifted songwriters” in a review for his 2019 album, Ivory Towers. A Corkonian, Jack certainly references the musicality of Leeside turn of phrase, but his songs explore unique character studies, matters of the heart and are deeply personal, yet universal. This particularly rings true on his upcoming third album, Wild Place ... more
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