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Fran Carlyon
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Fran Carlyon Whether the giddy heights of love or the crushing depths of loss, Andrew Moore has consistently through his art found a way to convey deep emotion with wide-eyed wonder. This latest album may be his fullest statement yet, inhabiting that uncertain space between darkness and light, forever finding new ways to keep moving forward. A triumph. Favorite track: Owl Eyes.
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1.
Sadness Out 01:54
No matter how I deal with it You're full of beans I'm full of shit Even now I've learnt to talk about it I can't seem to get this sadness out I don't know what I want to be in life Except loved
2.
I've held the gaze of beautiful women Only the Lord knows just what they were thinking Like my consciousness, a tragic blunder I talked too much, destroyed the sense of wonder So I flap my rotten wings Beats like heart disease Joints begin to seize As I try to make my peace The only true release from A tragic blunder My soul is a spectral tapeworm An analogy to make you squirm It grows to match my pace With the physical matter in which it is encased So I flap my rotten wings Beats like heart disease Joints begin to seize As I try to make my peace The only true release Yes I flap my rotten wings Beats like hearts diseased I flap my rotten wings And my joints begin to seize I flap my rotten wings I flap my rotten wings Beats like heart disease I flap my rotten wings I flap my rotten wings The only true release
3.
Owl Eyes 02:19
My heart rattles at the gaol bars of my ribs As yours rattles next to it, loud in my ears Confirming my fears Owl eyes, owl eyes Owl eyes, owl eyes
4.
James Caan said his dad Never told him that he loved him And consequently, he told Scott Every other minute That does a lot to a man And yes, I will cast that aspersion I do whatever I can Not to turn into that person If I turn into that person By virtue of avoidance My condition will worsen Cease any and all enjoyments And waste Away To dust If I knock myself off course I'll never need knocking off course again I won't need to forget the past The past will not exist You Were never Here
5.
Well I'm a mess And no wonder I feel the stress Of everything above and under I'm just a frightened lowly mortal Whatever that needs to sort it out No one deserves This tragic blunder A bag of nerves The outside world can only wonder Why I'm just a frightened lowly mortal Whatever that takes to sort it out, I'll fumble I'm just a frightened lowly mortal
6.
Peace will never be ours We keep company with ghosts Heartbeats numbered, steps counted And in the end, as if you've never been No one survives their survival
7.
My heart is a puddingstone Left over from the Ice Age My bones were the South Downs And soon they will feed the trees Maybe I have always been here And always will be Only the arrogant and the ignorant Are certain As I cauterise the wound Will the stink of my healing Make us come to blows? As I end up, carrion Will the ink in my skin Line the stomachs of crows? As I end up, carrion Will the ink in my skin Blacken the feathers of crows?
8.
Will I die at my desk? While I write, I die We all do Will you rewrite my life to make me sound better? That’s what we all do That’s what we all do They shoot horses, don’t they? Pay so much attention to living And so little to dying The scientists screw around Trying to prolong life Instead of finding pleasant ways to end it What about the people like me? Got the reason but don’t know how to use it Some people want to die but haven’t got the guts Let’s forget the past I said, let’s forget the past Let’s forget the past Let’s forget
9.
Geological sublime Mother Nature sharp decline Bloody fingers heal with time Crushing rose hips on the vine
10.
I Gcónaí 02:32
My eyes are sad, I'm stuck with them Hangdog boy, hangdog man Despite my blessings I am blue But I'm nothing compared to you I gcónaí Britannia of Myrtle Bay Creeping high above the waves Throwing stones at you because You're flouting Sunday trading laws I gcónaí Why are you peripheral? Quite clearly earthbound angel It's no measure of health to be Well adjusted to a sick society
11.
In my island of dreams you are with me it seems I can only imagine what you have in store You are superimposed at the perfect angle A vision of beauty on the bedroom floor You once peered through the window of my tiny apartment I cannot believe that I now live in a house On these beautiful days we are alive in the moment Forgetting we've been obliterated by loss The fire in your eyes and the fire in my belly We are ultimately a pair of hearts on the mend When taking a look back at the previous decade I will pray that the future features us without end

about

Recorded between 21 October 2022 - 28 December 2023 in Room 237.

credits

released February 2, 2024

All songs written and performed by A Moore. Guitars on 'Middle England Narcissus' by Tom Burgess.

Cover art by Robert Shaw.

IG0047

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The Tumbledryer Babies Southend On Sea, UK

one man pop group

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