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1. |
Cold Snap
03:02
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I've heard there's a cold snap coming
Patch the roof and fix the plumbing
Put your house in order
Stack the roof and stock the larder
Nights are falling hard and harder
Put your house in order
Put your house in order
When it's due no-one knows for sure
A sudden snow can land on tiptoes
And bar the door
For the wayward son returning
Light a lamp and keep it burning
Put your house in order
For the disenchanted daughter
Strangers huddled at the border
Put your house in order
Put your house in order
Draw the curtains tighter
And soon
We'll make a list of all our wishes
And dream of June
I've heard there's a cold snap coming
Put your house in order
Put your house in order
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2. |
Wild Garlic
03:18
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It is the wild garlic time of year
That's why I roved out to find you here
Where every green tongue is gonna sing
About the high fever of the spring
Oooh...
And in this cool shady glade of trees
I hear those wild garlic harmonies
The way the juice hits me with its hum
Between my first finger and my thumb
Oooh...
Must be the wild wanting mood I'm in
Makes every touch crackle on my skin
So let your heart open like a bud
For we have wild garlic in our blood
Oooh...
Down on that green blanket we could pull
Enough to fill all our pockets full
So let your tongue take another taste
Before the young season goes to waste
Oooh...
Aaah...
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3. |
Nightjar
03:33
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I am in the arms
Of the in-between
The colours of day
Wash into grey
Now the nightjars brim
With their rattling hymn
And you are a world and a half
Away
Away
Now it's been an age
Since we made believe
Building our lair
Monsters beware
See the nightjar float
Like a paper boat
Holding its breath as it cuts
The air
The air
Keep turning back
Keep turning back to catch us in the act of growing
Our bodies never throwing shadows in the gloaming
So cross your heart and never tell
A single word can break the spell
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4. |
Plough
03:45
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What must you think of me now?
Stubbornly pushing my plough
Fifty yards, turn around
Over the same old ground
Tilling new lines on my brow
I walked ten years in your shoes
Stumbling after a muse
Seasons that thaw and freeze
Autumns that turn the trees
Ten thousand shades of a bruise
Burgundy, sepia, gold
The older they’re growing, the bolder the flame
Turmeric, auburn and rust
Trusting that losing’s just part of the game
If you had known what I know
Could you have let me let go?
Watch me jump in a pile of leaves
Scrape a knee, stain my sleeves
Purple with bramble and sloe
Burgundy, sepia, gold
The older they’re growing, the bolder the flame
Turmeric, auburn and rust
Trusting that losing’s just part of the game
What must you think of me now?
Stubbornly pushing my plough
Fifty yards, turn around
Over the same old ground
Tilling new lines on my brow
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Edward Randell London, UK
Edward Randell is a singer and songwriter from south London. With a warm blanket of a voice, slyly sparkling lyrics and
melodies that evoke instant nostalgia, his music sounds like James Taylor and Rufus Wainwright sharing a pot of English Breakfast.
Formerly a member of legendary vocal group The Swingles, Edward is due to release his full-length debut in 2024, co-produced with Chris Hyson.
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