1. |
Fortune Green
05:01
|
|||
I love your voice, will you say some more words for me
I love your voice, will you say some more words for me
Will you send me down
They send me down
Will you send
I love your eyes, will you look on someone for me
Will you look on me
Will you look on
Will you look on me
Will you look on
With your lovely eyes will you look on me
I love your hands, will you hold something more for me
More for me
For me, for me
Anyway
Sit up straight
Don’t look down
Lift your shoulders
Speak out loud
I love your voice, will you tell me
|
||||
2. |
Post Quarter Life
03:11
|
|||
I am dab hand here now
I had a second go
And I’m walking here
Dreamlanding
I, with a dusty knee,
Am dab hand here now
Dreamlanding
In paradise it takes a minute for an hour to get thought outright
In paradise there is a column out of place I swear I knew before
And is this what it is coming to
Scrubbing myself into nought
Can’t apologise myself away
Sorry and sorry I’m not
And it’s all in my head
I am walking here
Yes and in seven years
‘Lovers?’ to here
Look with my eyes, for in a second or a minute well this too shall pass
Heaven thanks, for quarter life, my thanks
The tablecloth with flowers on can witness this
As it witnessed it then
Let nothing be an accident, I chose this
To see how it ends
Phew, am I tired
Totally wired
|
||||
3. |
Who'd've
02:21
|
|||
Navy blue, the pupils chattered, peals
Rit the slumbered week before the
Carmel queues for the Tonge End.
Knelling from the teenage multitudes,
Luke smiled up to you in P.E. shoes
What he said, you heard, and grinned
The afternoon was grey-blue
Down the queue a bus moved
And woke the new weekend
Your turn to speak
Luke watched and heard
And then he tilted his head
Scarlet tongues in a whisper will lullaby the bones
Luke’s angle fell, you heard him palter ‘goodbye’
Eigengrau, Luke clapped to his mouth
Couldn’t do this, couldn’t do that,
Sought Mill Rd.
Home, home, home.
|
||||
4. |
Warmstone
02:10
|
|||
This moment is stood fatherand son
South facing is stood author plus one
Lead branches rake, restless fingers bend
As dawn will make a fitz of the dusk
So dusk will take a fist to the past - and here it comes
Fatherand tries meeting palm with palm.
Birds flee from this place half of the year
Leaves are just a myth when you’re stood here
It’s natural for stone to be cold.
At this site our father says to son;
At menhir the elder speaks to young:
“Ever so good is this day
“Every saving grace on this day
“Honour and learn from today
“Hallelujah.” - A.L.
|
||||
5. |
Okehampton Carnival
03:23
|
|||
On St James Chapel the clock had changed when
A smack of the Isn’t-thats stood at Fairplace cooed
For tiny monarchs, the George Street doyen,
Afloat on a papier-mache throne and towed.
Flushed from the hedge
Anthony prizes two cans of Strongbow
Edging through the dark,
Hidden from families, thumps to Simmons Park
The Year Abovers have the floor
It’s incredible
Wine for these girls, these two loud bangs
His eyes so giddy, a hungry grin smeared
In nervous immaculate tones across his face
Was bathed in moonlight on empty night-streets
Reliving a dream that would haunt him now for weeks
|
||||
6. |
||||
Violet, the coming hour relents in the sticks
Sunset afore the panes, and curtained from view
The shadow paints all whisper their hue
Yellow, red, blue: the occupant’s mix.
This image of a dream is just barely seen
Pale motion on a page, the occupant’s thin.
Three whisper tubes hold null in their skin
Those barely used submit in between.
Three last watery lines
One more for the miserable tome
Fire bellows vermillion gloam
The occupant whines
“Everything is going to be perfect forever and nothing will ever go wrong,
“Everything is going to be perfect forever and nothing will ever go wrong”
|
||||
7. |
Nightwalkers
07:09
|
|||
Moon a milk stain, spilled on a woolen sky
Blanket night time, warm, spun dry
Evening breathes with a soft-from-washes sigh.
Felt tip branches scribble leaves
Cotton lane, lamplit puppet shows by trees.
Rest, under the All Saints here lie knuckle roots
Stood over two Okement boys, elm branches grow
Walking on, through swashy grass, beyond the stream,
Forever, two boys leave
Church Meadows under lamplight, but what I prefer
with Duncan after midnight, and what I prefer
Is missing it
|
||||
8. |
Aftermas
06:26
|
|||
Fate stood in the way
It’s Aftermas today
Ye an mou, ye an mou, ye an mou
I’m sure I should not wait
For you, creature
I received a card
I sealed up a box
Yeah I know, yeah I know, yeah I know,
Why should I be good if you are not?
And we all drown.
Too fast
Why, because I’ll swim and answer
Sinking with good doing: we will breath.
What is this promise from the shadow kingdom?
No, there is no greater truth
In either happiness or sadness,
But I know which is the best
Of the two
I can’t quite say, no I can’t quite say,
With everything I’ve learned,
I couldn’t say, no I couldn’t quite say, on Aftermas Day,
I wish it hadn’t happened to me.
|
||||
9. |
August 3rd
02:40
|
|||
You’re not the story of my life,
But you’re the font it’s written in - every word.
I’ll be the story of your life.
|
||||
10. |
||||
Harry tied his left lace first to ensure his team will win
Yellow grass, summer’d passed
And you had learned how to fit in, how to win
Harry did have one-two days for a while, but a phase: that’s his style
Valley bedded pollen eyes
So you had to race rightly for, for to what?
For to earn you esteem; tighten loose ties.
Argyle: five more can play on the right;
And Harry: let his heart gain some warmth, if it will;
As for you: see how the day farewells light.
|
||||
11. |
Cycle Lanes
06:07
|
|||
Cycle lanes and freshly cut grass
4 a.m. and the sun is almost rising
I’m coming out in hives
It’s Friday and I wish it was Thursday
I hate the skin I’m wearing
The hot blood in my veins
I hate the way my stupid thoughts
All circle in my brain
I’m disappearing before my eyes
And I haven’t even had the chance yet to begin
But it’s time to boil the kettle
And let the kitten in
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Haniell, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp