Tumuli Adrift

by Nathan Fordyce-Wright

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1.
Hail the carriage, Hail the horse, Hail comes down, disrupts first course, Lobster once for inmate's meal, Now rich man fae plate does steal. Waltzin' marriage, Waltzin' quick, Waltzin' whale oil lantern lit, Beneath the candelabra lurk, Rich men's furtive dirks. O' mah laird, Have ye heard, The clearances of Highland bairns, There's naught but curse fae George's hand, We ask ye spare us ancestry lands. Hail down auld Dundonian, Hail the Aberdonian, Hail the Fifer, hail them aw, Leave the Lairds aw standing alone. Waltzin' Darian, Waltzin' slick, Waltzin' economic split, Out tae distant shores we row, Back we traipse tae auld Glasgow. O' mah laird, Have ye heard, The clearances of Highland bairns, There's naught but curse fae George's hand, We ask ye spare us ancestry lands. O' mah laird, Have ye seen, The heads roll aff the Gallic queens, And o' mah laird, Do ye know, The way the wild rashes grow, And o' mah laird, Can ye feel, The claymore cut and break yer steel, And o' mah laird, Have ye heard, The clearances of Highland bairns, And o' mah laird-
2.
Burlesque 10:17
My fine leather boots lie torn and abandoned, My dusty old jacket hangs lonesome and strangled, I'm ignoring my duties, my tasks and the rest, Here I lie naked, flicking ash on my chest. Amorphous distortions dance in front of my eyes, Like furious burlesque, they tease and pull, Promise to satisfy, But I am alone, Tonight. The bottle's inviting, the noose is absurd, This slow-burning candle will scorch me to dirt, But the hours are dwindling, the drunker I stay, Till I'm back in that job which fills up my days. Outside the brawler is bawling her curse, Harlequin devils encourage the worst, But the ice is forming on the paths where they tread, Sooner or later they'll split open their heads. Man of God, he thinks he's got the right to declare, There's diseases fucking everywhere, But I don't think that he'll stick around. Here it comes, a brand new shiny change in regime, Will chaos come and reign supreme, Cause we can't all just get along. Take my hand, we'll go walk the higher lands, We'll take a gun, release the hounds, Cause there's no-one gonna stop us now. Our fathers are holding back, there's tears in their eyes, They feel they have failed us through these years, through these trials, They've had to be okay for my brothers and I, I'm starting to see that they don a disguise. My brothers are sick, yet another time, A story of love has taken over their gentle minds, But I should reach out to all of you, Tonight. That fiery woman has captured my eyes, She's got no fear and an artistic side, Should give her a call and offer my time, The worst she could say is to leave it behind. Meanwhile the brawler has wandered to hell, She's fighting with demons and bruising them well, She's visiting her husband, needs to collect, He owes her some loving, a deal to respect. Effigies are burning on the mountain tops, The horns will blare, the bombs will drop, Here comes another war. Sacrifice your first-born son to smoke and gunfire, Commanded by silver-tongued liars, There falls another man. Hold your breath, stay quiet till the shooting's done, This invasion's only just begun, And I think they're gonna stick around.
3.
Pomegranates 04:14
You said come back to Scotland, I've work for you, it's warmer now, and we can collaborate on a thing so needed, Needed by who? I ask, By everyone, you reply, Or just us. So I leave cheap cigarettes and cheaper rent behind to sit in the stuffy confines of an eight-wheeler, Passing through borders, over bridges whilst watching landscapes morph across the spectrum, Lakes and valleys slowly dissolve into lochs and glens as I reach my once home again. But it's charity work, I should have checked and I spend day upon day in the flats of lonely men, My pay filtering away from me as I wait in dank closies for the next appointment, Knowing its the kind of work I should be past by now, It's only a matter of time as the cold hampers my health and I begin to spiral. There's a complete absence of you. One night you invite me out drinking, We spend the evening in a corner catching up on everything that's happened, Your projects, my life in a foreign land and the dealings of our respective surrounds whilst we've been apart. I ask if you're married, You say yes, You say we'll go tomorrow to The Hermitage and walk the path of Macpherson. I ask if you want to sleep with me, You say yes, At... at least you thought so. I begin to laugh and I can't seem to stop when morning rolls around, Almost maniacal as my joints lock from the freezing temperatures. You remind me of the old days, So I think I'll go back home. Our coats carve up, The evening rain, This segmented downpour, Fragments of please, more. Whispered in shame, We claim the throne of coal, Collier's bound up in a collar of no luck, Taking its tole. Sleep together just one more night, Test your fervour, In stereo murmurations, Keep your bodies tight. I know it's too late, Far too late to guess, How we should sort out, This unruly mess.
4.
No lyrics, heh heh.
5.
Reykjavík 04:08
*drunken wails* Regan's holding onto her rotating centrifuge, Spinning like a Catherine wheel, watch your eyes the sparks are loose, I told her not to worry, advised her to keep still, But nothing stops that woman from tearing off the waxen seal. But how do you hold her, When the city lights are out? And how do you show her, How much you want to scream and shout? And how do you tell her, Everything will be alright? And how do you love her, When tendons can't put up a fight? I saw a body bag filled up with diamond rings, And same such silly things, I heard the doctor say damage irreversible, Brain sunk terrible, I tasted Styrofoam tickling my tongue again, Packaged up and sent, Out to Reykjavík, floating 'cross the Sea of Styx, On foolish plastic ship. Regan please let go of your rotating centrifuge, I swear there's more to life than piston-fire-crime-pursuit, I don't think you define yourself by where you laid your head last night, But there's something in your character which makes the worried want to fight. But how do you hold her, When the city lights are out? And how do you show her, How much you want to scream and shout? And how do you tell her, Everything will be alright? And how do you love her, When tendons can't put up a fight? I saw a body bag filled up with diamond rings, And same such silly things, I heard the doctor say damage irreversible, Brain sunk terrible, I tasted Styrofoam tickling my tongue again, Packaged up and sent, Out to Reykjavík, floating 'cross the Sea of Styx, On foolish plastic ship. Speak to me softly once the moss is overgrown, Prehistoric flora dictating where the flowers' sown, Tell me a secret but keep my history out of it, Make it one unheard before, one that sends them into fits. I saw a body bag filled up with diamond rings, And same such silly things, I heard the doctor say damage irreversible, Brain sunk terrible, I tasted Styrofoam tickling my tongue again, Packaged up and sent, Out to Reykjavík, floating 'cross the Sea of Styx, On foolish plastic ship. *more drunken wails*
6.
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released February 17, 2023

Written, Performed and Produced by Nathan Fordyce-Wright
Art by Nathan Fordyce-Wright

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Nathan Fordyce-Wright Dundee, UK

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