1. |
A Little Piece of Land
03:16
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A Little Piece of Land by Carol Fieldhouse
Evening falls, rush hour crawl,
the pavements ringing, subways stream.
This care worn grey, will soon fade away
Far from the city I will leave
For a little piece of land, safe in our hands
Before and after, will remain
A place to touch down, feet back on the ground,
Moss for a pillow, stars for dreams
Far from the road through the stile, overgrown
Leading from Kishfield Bridge....
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home
Sweet valley of green where dragonflies dream,
The scent of clover...joy to the bee!
The cuckoo grass glade, places we played,
Tthere will be new songs for you and me
No mobile phones, a broadband ‘no go’
Memories ring from the cliff
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home,
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home
I’ll follow the track when I need to come back
From city living to this stream
Yet in my mind this place I can find
In the sweet song the sparrow sings
Far from the road through the stile, overgrown
Leading from Kishfield Bridge....
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home,
Home I’m going home now
Finding my way home
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2. |
Linen
03:12
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Linen by Carol Fieldhouse
I’m wearing linen now all crisply pressed
Muted shades that age suits best
But underneath, well who knows
A fierce fire burns, dancing bones
Who could know that deep inside
A dancer lurks that won’t be tied
The kitchen walls gaze calmly on
Twyla, Balanchine, Jazz, the Swan
I’m wearing linen now still crisply pressed
A hint of leopard on my vest
A rebel ember in my bones
In spite of muted fading tones
Come what may, life’s ups and downs
More smiling wrinkles less furrowed frowns
Time to live and love and rest
And savour all in life that’s best
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3. |
Like Oxygen
03:11
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Like Oxygen by Carol Fieldhouse
Drift a while, sleep as the sun sets
Lay down here, the wood pigeon calls
The lilac evening falls heavy with whispers
Ruffling the canopy with its scented breeze
Like oxygen,
Life breathes and I gasp
In your eyes, the warmth of a love song
Touched with the gold of the rising moon
The velvet night stretches above us
Where a billion stars live and die
Like oxygen,
You breathe and I gasp
...where a billion stars live and die
Like oxygen,
You breathe and I gasp,
Like oxygen
Like oxygen
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4. |
Dark River
03:45
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Dark River by Carol Fieldhouse And Myrren Wildman
Dark River, dark river
Deep water rushing on to the sea
You’re moving, full flowing
I’m standing with you silently
Find me a way, wordless source here at play
Oh dark river, my dark river sing
Find me a way, wordless source here at play
Oh dark river, my dark river sing
Dark river, dark river
Sounds tumbling from your source in the hills
Dark river, oh, dark river
I’m wondering what words will you spill
Find me a way, wordless source here at play
Oh dark river, my dark river sing
Find me a way, wordless source here at play
Oh dark river, my dark river sing
Dark River, dark river
Deep water rushing on to the sea
Find me a way, wordless source here at play
Oh dark river, my dark river sing
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5. |
The Wave
03:02
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The Wave by Carol Fieldhouse
Here as the tides run
The sky mirror’s glint hits my eyes
With borrowed light bounced through the moon
Calls to me, calls to me ocean time
And the wave came creeping
The wave came creeping along the shore
And the wave came
Stilled, as the cloud fell
Weeks overwhelmed, silent life
Lost, out of sight, beyond your reach
You said, ‘Swim, Mia, feel the ocean’s might’
And the wave came creeping
The wave came creeping to my door
And the wave came
‘Go to the ocean, go to the ocean, swim!
Go to the ocean, go to the ocean....live’
Wrapped in the sea’s swell
The pull of the tide’s soothing sigh
Far distant storms break on the beach
Turning me, turning me to the light
And the wave came creeping
The wave came creeping to the shore
And the wave came
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6. |
Billy Marshall
02:55
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Billy Marshall by Carol Fieldhouse
Billy was born on Galloway ground
In sixteen seventy two
A gypsy boy who’d wear a crown
Until the Ferryman’s pay was due
Billy would dance any girl that he could
Two hands through the grey wedding stone
Cleeking and swinging and footing a reel
Spinning his new bride home
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
High in his cave he will be
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
Roaming and living free
He slipped through the grip of his soldiering days
Skipped from a life on the sea
Turned his hand to the smuggle and steal
Stood for the poor of Kirkcudbrigh
t
Billy Marshall was King of the Gypsies they say
Seventeen wives through his bed
Six score years of black Galloway nights
It was never by laws he was lead
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
High in his cave he will be
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
Roaming and living free
In seventeen ninety two, at close of the day
Billy Marshall’s time it had come
‘No more King of the gypsies’, they say
As his last adventure begun
On his grave in the churchyard the pennies still lie
There’s a fare that he still has to pay
Two hundred years and Billy still waits
For his soul to be carried away
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
High in his cave he will be
King of the Gypsy Tinklers
Roaming and living free
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7. |
Love's On Holiday
03:36
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Love's On Holiday by Carol Fieldhouse
Fields of brown, wintery town, love’s on holiday
I’m in blue, missing you today
Did we fly just too close to the sun?
Burnt our wings, love’s sting found
its mark we fell so deep
Autumn days, wind and rain, our last holiday
Midnight talks, quiet walks, dusk fell
But the touch of your hand grew cold
Seasons turned, frost spurred,
Fractured all our hopes, our dreams
Thoughts of you, what to do, love’s on holiday
Should I write? Well I might, no
Heavy time on my hands, it’s lonely
What went wrong?
Love’s song silenced as you set us free
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8. |
Residue
03:20
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Residue by Carol Fieldhouse and Gary Bridle
Residue, what’s left to me
Unwanted books of poetry
Birthday cards stored in a drawer
From all those years that went before
This photograph of you, its residue
Sunny days on South End pier
The photo booth, we disappeared
Skimming stones our faces beamed
Sunlight on our carefree scene
These photographs so true, they’re residue
Always made me smile
With your morning hair tumblin’ there
And your soft grey eyes
Still smiling there, no leaving cares
Residue, there’s just a trace
An empty chair, a familiar place
Back then I never knew quite how
To say the things I’m saying now
To a photograph of you, it’s residue
Always made me smile
With your morning hair tumblin’ there
And your soft grey eyes
Still smiling there, no leaving cares
Residue, what’s left to me
Unwanted books of poetry
Birthday cards left in a drawer
From all those years that went before
This photograph of you, its residue
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9. |
Summertime
03:31
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Summertime Music by Finn Shannon Lyrics by Carol Fieldhouse
Walking the seashore Spring Tides at my toes
I’m watching the people pose and
Playing in their shiny boats
How did it happen?
I’m alone in a place where no one knows my name
Yet it all looks the same
There was a boy, a boat and fishing lines
High summer came calling as we
Sang and watched the firelight die
Under the starry sky the tide was turning pebbles into sand
Walking hand in hand
In summertime In summertime
Sailing, skimming on the sea’s soft swell
Reeling, our boat tipped and we fell
Still walking the seashore, same place, tides roll on
A sandy barricade is breached and
Thoughts flood and over run
The rising tide lifts all boats from the sand then sets them down again
Memories rise when
It’s Summer time, the bay is hazy blue
Summertime, those days of me and you
In Summertime
Summertime
In Summertime Summertime
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10. |
Leaving
03:13
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Leaving by Carol Fieldhouse
Sunday in winter sun
Cases on the ground
They’re leaving fifty years or more
Hopes and memories pass at the door
I remember, remember, I remember, remember
Time and children always run
Summers came and went
Winter fires and Christmas times
Slowly fade and then they die
I remember, remember, I remember, remember
The cheerful biscuit tin,
Chocolate that you hid
And the warmth of ironed clothes
Scones cooled on the stove
Linen and photographs
Assemble in the hall
We’re leaving after forty years
Our memories will fade from here
I’ll remember, remember, I’ll remember, remember
I’ll remember, remember, I’ll remember, remember
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Carol Fieldhouse Derbyshire Dales District, UK
After years rooted in Folk and Early Music, I discovered my musical homeland as a songwriter in 2008. My debut album linen, produced by Boo Hewerdine and recorded by engineer Chris Pepper, was Celtic Music Radio’s Album of the Week in 2016.
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