Get all 5 The Geoff Smith Band releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Tangled Hair Poems, Black Is The Colour, Black Flowers, 15 Wild Decembers, and Gas Food Lodging.
1. |
The Last of England
09:04
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the warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing
the bare boughs are signing, the pale flowers are dying
and the year on the earth her death bed
in a shroud of leaves dead is lying
come, months, come away
from november to may
in your saddest array
follow the bier
of the dead cold year
and like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre
the chill rain is falling, the nipt worm is crawling
the rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling for the year
the blithe swallows have flown and the lizards each gone to his dwelling
come, months, come away
put on white, black and grey
let your light sisters play
ye, follow the bier
of the dead cold year
and make her grave green with tear on tear
['A Dirge' by Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822]
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2. |
Six Wings of Bliss
06:34
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cold in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee
far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave
it will not shine again
its sad course is done
I have seen the last ray wane
of the cold, bright sun
cold in the earth and fifteen wild decembers
from those brown hills have melted into spring
no later light has lightened up my heaven
no second morn has ever shone for me
all my life's bliss from thy dear life was given
all my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.
[Lines taken from 'Remembrance' and an untitled fragment by Emily Bronte, 1818-1848]
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3. |
possess me
08:11
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4. |
Fifteen Wild Decembers
09:04
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fall, leaves, fall
die, flowers, away
every leaf speaks bliss to me
fluttering from the autumn tree
[fifteen wild decembers]
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
blossom where the rose should grow
I shall sing when night's decay
ushers in a drearier day
[Fragment by Emily Bronte, 1818-1848]
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5. |
the rain pools are happy
07:09
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6. |
Speak of the North
04:21
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7. |
to the old place
09:26
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8. |
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slow days have passed that make a year
slow hours that make a day
since I could take my first dear love
and kiss him in the old way
and bring to me a sadder dream
when this sad dream is dead.
[Lines taken from 'A Year and a Day' by Elizabeth Siddal, 1833-1862]
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