1. |
Bridge of Birds
05:19
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The Raven is the Prince
Of the birds of Prophecy;
A darkling hunch of Portent
Perched high and watching me
The Falcon is the Prince
Of the birds who maketh War;
A hookéd beak, a yellow stare
He leaves a wake of Gore
The Petrel is the Prince
of the birds who bring the Storms;
His pinions stretching o’er the waves
His cry of Torment warns
But the Cuckoo is the Prince
Of the birds that bring Sorrow to me;
And since I took my Cuckoo in
Nevermore Joy shall I see.
The Lark he is the Prince
of the Birds that hail the Dawn;
A tongue as sweet as nectar sings
The promise of the Morn
The Owl he is the Prince
Of the birds that bring Nightfall;
And stealthy as the dark itself
Casts in his wake a Pall
The Swan he is the Prince
of the Birds that dwell on Water;
His mournful cry, by Woman heard
Of coming Doom doth augur
But the Cuckoo is the Prince
of the birds that bring Sorrow to me;
And since I took my Cuckoo in
Nevermore Maid shall I be
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2. |
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Oh where do you go, pretty Agnes, pretty Agnes?
Where do you go with your yellow hair so bright?
“I go to meet my Jonny in the Cokey Lane, old woman
For we will warm each other on this cold March night.”
Oh have you no shame, pretty Agnes, pretty Agnes?
Oh have you no shame, with your yellow hair so bright?
Your Jonny he is married to the Goodwife Gorney
And in doing what you do, you offend the women quite.
We will see you in court, pretty Agnes, pretty Agnes
We will drag you there ourselves by your yellow hair so bright
“I care not for your treatment, but only for my sweetheart;
My darling Jonny Gorney, my shining gallant knight.”
Where is you Gallant Jonny, pretty Agnes, Pretty Agnes?
As you stand in the dock with your yellow hair so bright?
He loved you for your cunny and for that he paid you money
But he loves you not, and has confessed his conduct was not right.
We will make of you example, pretty Agnes, pretty Agnes
We will strip you bare and shave you of your yellow hair so bright
And naked to the cuckingstool through Norwich market lead you
And none that see, shall save you from your well-deservéd plight.
Not so proud and cocky, pretty Agnes, pretty Agnes
Nor so pretty neither for we’ve made of you a fright
As the goodwives and the mistresses of Norwich lead you bare and bald
O’er Coslany Bridge and Fyebrigg till you reach the ducking site.
We will duck you in the water, ugly Agnes, ugly Agnes
We will freeze your wanton body blue and white, blue and white
Then through Tumland and St Andrews back to your wretched hovel lead you
And you will know the full force of a scornéd woman’s spite.
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3. |
52 Hz Whale
04:50
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52 Hz of silence
Calling through the waters
A heart that speaks yet
Is never heard
52 Hz of silence
Never knowing why the cry goes
Unanswered
Swimming in our lonely seas
52 Hz whale and me
Till we lose our breath and fall
To the bottom of the deathless ocean
Where our bones will be picked white and clean
Never heard and never seen
Again
52 Hz of silence
Calling through the waters
A heart that speaks yet
Is never heard
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4. |
Everso Cross in Newquay
03:08
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Sue, Paddy and Eric
Are apparently Everso Cross
Everso, everso cross
Down in Nequay
Sue has packed a matalo top
Paddy’s hair’s backcombed
Eric’s sporting buggerstraps
All have footwear disowned
They came here for a holiday
They came here for a spree
To pitch their tents and sing their songs
To know a life that’s free
But now
Sue, Paddy and Eric
Are apparently Everso Cross
Everso, everso cross
Down in Newquay
Because
The Urban District Council says
Beatniks here are grimy –
Newquay is a clean resort;
Newquay’s neat and tidy
Eric say’s that’s rubbish
His washes, “fairly frequent”;
Every couple of days at least –
Whenever is convenient
And yet
Sue Paddy and Eric
Are everso, everso cross
Everso, everso cross
Down in Newquay
For
Paddy says the townsfolk
Won’t let her near the water
From the tap three hundred yards away -
Besides, she’s not much of a walker
Sue says its all just silly
And people in polythene macks
and “silly straw hats, shorts and plimsolls”
Should really get off their backs
As
Sue, Paddy and Eric
Are apparently everso cross
Everso, everso cross
Down in Newquay
The denizens of Newquay
Are putting up signs that say:
“Beatnicks may not shop inside
nor drink, nor work, nor play”.
Being a beatnik’s an excellent life
A life of freedom and hope
Playing guitar and travelling -
But don’t forget the soap!
Or
Like Sue, Paddy and Eric
You’ll end up everso cross
Everso, Everso cross
Down in Newquay
Like Sue, Paddy and Eric
You’ll end up everso cross
Everso, Everso cross
Down in Newquay
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5. |
Sons of Clovis
08:23
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Over the sea in the Frankish country
Ruled Clovis the King, and sons he had three
By Balthilde, Lady, fair Saxon Lady
By Balthilde. Lady of Gaul
By the banks of the Seine all upon the flood plain
Lived they all in a palace, a fortress of gold
Clovis, his sons, and the fair Saxon Lady
Fair Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
Oh, Clovis – good Christian - to the pope he did listen
And took up crusade in the far Holy Lands
And left his three sons in the care of the Lady
Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
The third son, an infant, of nought had he intent
The two elder, grown youths, poor counsel took they
To throw over Clovis and the fair Saxon Lady
Throw over Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
That fair Saxon Lady had once lived in slavery
To return to such bondage never would she
She learned of their treachery, fair Saxon Lady
Fair Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
“My sons, you betrayed me; you would have enslaved me,
And fain would you murder your father the King
This never shall happen while I am your Lady
Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul”
The Lady, for aid, to the old gods she prayed
A way to dispatch these two traitors to find
She would not them kill for they were of her belly
The belly of Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
She called on Toutatis, She called on Taranis
She called upon Esus, the Gaul’s trinity
And counsel they gave to the fair Saxon Lady
To Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
So it was ordained these youths must be maimed
By hamstringing both; from their legs there were torn
The ligaments all by their mother, the Lady
Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
“Oh, Mother, for pity! Cast us not from the city!”
Now crippled are we and we’ll never more stray
Have mercy, oh, Mother, terrible Lady!
O Cruel Balthilde, Lady of Gaul!”
“My sons, e’re your sire returns from his war
From these gates I must cast you, else you’ll die at his hand
Tis mercy that moves this despairing Lady”
Said Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
On a bed she did lay them, in the Seine she did cast them
To float where they may; “let the Fates guide them now,”
She said, as they drifted away from the Lady
Lady Balthilde, Lady of Gaul
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6. |
The Raven and the Vole
04:58
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‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
Curse of Vole is brewed from hate;
An old maid weeping for a mate.
Footsteps clatter in the gloaming:
Hooded Raven hunting, roaming.
‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
Boy’s lip is stained with cherry-red;
Girl bears a curse upon her head.
Lanterns flicker in the dark,
‘Ware the winestain! ‘Ware the mark!
‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
Chronos, Eros! Hear our plea
Use your power to set us free.
Free of Raven! Free from Vole!
Take them from us; free our souls.
‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
‘Ware the Raven!, ‘Ware the Vole!
Wicked women steal your soul.
‘Ware the Devil! ‘Ware the glass!
Something ill shall come to pass.
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7. |
Martyred Heart
03:59
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Can you hope to mend a heart
That was broken by a lie?
When the liar holds the power
To smite your allies hip and thigh?
When you cannot prove your innocence
Of what you never did
And the true face of your enemy
by Mammon's mask is hid?
Annie, can you hear the voices
Of the children in the street?
Can you hear their calls for Justice
And the marching of their feet?
They're marching for you
And the truth they knew
And the lives you changed.
And betrayal still continues
We've forgotten where we're from;
Take for granted what we've gained
From the likes of you and Tom
But while the bricks of Burston
Strike School stand still on the green
I'm reminded of your martyred heart
And what dedication means.
Annie, can you hear the voices
Of the children in the street?
Can you hear their calls for Justice
And the marching of their feet?
They're marching for you
And the truth they knew
And the lives you changed.
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The Familiars Norwich, UK
Acoustic acid-folk from Norwich. Vaguely Pagan. Virtuoso guitarist chanelling Bert Jansch & honey-voiced singer / heretic, supported by guest violinist Vincent Maltby.
The Familiars recommends:
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Proper down and dirty blues.
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