1. |
Dawn
01:51
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2. |
The Thatcher
05:08
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The beads of sweat upon his brow,
his flagon slakes his thirst for now.
The sedge and scythe, ‘neath cloudless skies.
Will we ever see his like again?
I searched the world of wold and fen.
Their ancient skills will come again.
The gentle arts that fuelled our hearts
are returning to the lowlands again.
The yellowhammer’s constant song,
“A little bit of bread and no cheese”.
The kestrel hovers high above,
and the wind ruffles the beech trees.
He shades his eyes against the sun
and shoulders arms – his day‘s work done.
The reed bed sways, the summer haze,
and he will be returning once again.
I walked the lanes o’er stoop and stile,
to see these crafts I trekked the miles.
Let not this generation die in vain,
I know their value will rise again.
The yellowhammer’s constant song,
“A little bit of bread and no cheese”.
The kestrel hovers high above,
and the wind ruffles the beech trees.
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3. |
Mr Valentine
05:51
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Mr Valentine brings joy to the face of woe.
Everywhere you go, he goes.
Creating a smile with inimitable style,
he brightens the day that had dragged from the soft snowy dawn to the warm honey glow of the lights of your home ... The lights of your home.
Old Mr V brings fun to the face of the world,
the boys and the girls.
Lighting the light where darkness and night had smothered the joy of the past,
where memories last and linger as ghosts round your bed, invading your head ...
Invading your head.
Observing this life from afar, you still bear a scar,
which pushes you out on a limb.
But you want to come in.
Takes more than the best meal of your day to turn things your way
and lighten the load ... Lighten the load. Lighten the load.
But old Mr V has the answer to all these questions that fly round your head,
like the merry-go-round in the toy shop window.
His twinkling eyes so piercing and blue that can cut right through,
turn a frown right around, and the simplest of pleasures,
the sharing of fun, as you play with the toys that you made together
has lifted the gloom, that you felt in your room ...
And turned the world to a magical place.
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4. |
Thankful
07:17
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Sleeping. That’s all I’m thinking.
Drifting. And no-one’s taking.
All around the change of life is happening,
like we could never dare – or never care.
Thinking. The world is thinking.
Listening. And now we’re hearing.
Suddenly the sights and sounds surround us,
that were not there before,
Our mind’s closed door.
Honey bees and cherry trees and factory worker’s toiling through the night – it’s all right.
Keep us safe and so secure, never certain, now we’re sure – you’re vital.
Smiling faces at the gate,
the only contact that you make – be mindful.
We’re all as one.
Just be thankful.
Just be mindful.
Hush now. The world needs pause now.
Embracing chaotic calm.
Lightly then we tread untrodden sand,
leaving marks that pave the way, to better days.
Sharing a simple pleasure. Turning to face the rain.
Common times we climb uncommon mountains,
and here we are again. Gentle refrain.
Busy lives that fall from grace,
simple pleasures take their place – live smaller.
Trading stories of our time,
we laugh and dance and spill the wine – together.
And tomorrow turn the page.
The lights go out upon the stage forever.
We are as one.
Just be thankful.
Longing, We long for closeness.
To be held. And hold again.
Starved of touch we hold ourselves together,
and wash our hands again, to ease the pain.
Linger. The feeling lingers.
Gnawing – like salt on steel.
Where we go from here can’t help but wonder,
But knowing all too well, only time will tell.
Six feet distance far apart,
so far between two lonely hearts – we’re waiting.
Lonesome days bring lonesome nights, l
ike a bird that’s paused in flight – we’re waiting.
Lonely times breed lonely hearts.
Bad connections while apart. We’re aching.
We’ll be alright.
Just be thankful ... Just be mindful ... Just be thankful.
We’ll be alright.
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5. |
Crowsley Park Wood
07:14
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Crowsley Park Wood.
We climb the hill through swaying grasses.
Walking back in time,
to childhood days fondly remembered.
Red kite’s soaring,
their wings against the sun.
Cascading cries that cross the miles
above the skylark’s song.
Crowsley Park Wood.
We reach the top, the open meadow.
Shading chestnut trees,
their spiral trunks so strong together.
How we played there,
through seasons‘ rise and fall.
Through summer haze,
crisp autumn days, and winter’s setting sun.
Crowsley Park Wood.
The fallow deer in distant shimmer.
Pause before we turn ... recall the scene at once together.
Slow descending,
against the waning sun.
That summer glow will never go
beneath the skylark’s song.
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6. |
Heart Lies
04:23
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Tell me where my heart lies?
Is it in my destiny to tell it lies?
Will I ever know?
Always in my foolish heart to just be so.
Honesty the fool of love,
plays games with my emotions,
it’s touch and go,
Indecision wears me down,
strange how all these complications come around.
Hey there, just be honest with yourself,
Hedging bets and sitting on fences,
leads to dire consequences,
everytime, everytime.
Tell me where my heart lies?
Chasing all my fantasies across the skies,
All in love is fair,
But all I ever do is just compare.
Happiness the Holy Grail,
is always round the corner and I’m bound to fail,
Expectations high,
when all I do is reach for the sky.
Hey there, get your feet back on the ground
Take some time for introspection
then you’ll find the right direction,
everytime, everytime.
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7. |
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8. |
Slumber Sweetly
12:13
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Slumber sweetly ‘til dawn.
Take away my heart forever.
Every breath, I adore.
Safe within these walls forever.
Dreams so sweetly chosen,
dance across your mind.
Colours and tapestries woven, And plays yet unspoken.
Cradle your time in a world of your own special making.
Watching you sleep, brings a smile to my face.
The place where I want to be.
Watching you breathe – seems like heaven to me.
Vibrant zebras in colours fluorescent.
they’re sliding down chutes into Caversham over the Thames.
Playing guitar while you’re herding up elephants ...
Soft serenading will get them to fall into line, every time.
Strange how these things go.
Holding on to the undertow.
Images that ebb and flow –
you can safely change them to a place you know.
Watching the sunrise come over Negombo
and flying a red kite at daybreak on Galle Face Green.
What a dream! Rowing at Henley with Sachin Tendulkar,
on water that sparkles yet threatens to tow you away. Every day.
Strange how these things go.
Holding on to the undertow.
Images that ebb and flow –
you can safely change them to a place you know.
Softly wake in your arms.
Lost within your eyes forever.
Every smile is a charm ...
melts my heart now and forever.
Where do travels take you,
under still of night?
Down to your magical island,
your surreal asylum,
softly caressed by the people who love you the deepest.
When you wake ...
There’s no place I’d rather be.
See you smile ...
Seems like heaven to me.
When you wake ...
There’s no place I’d rather be.
See you smile ...
Seems like heaven to me.
Slumber sweetly ...
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9. |
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10. |
Moving On
03:41
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11. |
Dusk
03:10
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Glen Brielle Scotland, UK
Glen Brielle is the band name of musician Hugh Carter. Founder member of Scottish “prog” legends Abel
Ganz
Hugh writes from the heart and is inspired mostly by personal experiences and nature around him. “Still” is the resulting album from his personal journey.
... more
If you like Glen Brielle, you may also like:
The Life Of The Honey Bee and Other Moments Of Clarity
by Abel Ganz
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Great music, sort of steely Dan with a hint of Steven Wilson vibe to it. Should be better known imo
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To Touch the Sky
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supported by 10 fans who also own “Still”
Wonderful, beautiful, densely layered music. I'm glad I gave this album several headphone listens before commenting. It did not immediately strike a chord with me, but the more I listened the more I began to understand and appreciate how fantastically rich and deep the sound is. For fans of atmospheric and melodic prog, this is an excellent addition. Bass and drum work are exquisite!
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The spirit of the Canterbury scene is alive and well across this groovy, harmonic psychedelic suite.
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Never Be A Punching Bag for Nobody (Original Soundtrack)
by Naomi Yang
A soundtrack to a film that is both historical and autobiographical, Yang’s music here finds graceful beauty in slowly unfolding melodies.
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The two epic tracks on the latest from BC group Lakeman are mind-melters, opening slow and pensive before erupting into near-doom metal.
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The Mad Mothster's Tea Party - (The Official Bootleg)
by Tiger Moth Tales
supported by 8 fans who also own “Still”
Another GREAT! live album release and one that perhaps offers plenty of variety of the longer time slot and the set list which features a few surprises. Once again Jones is playing on his own and delivers the goods with his truly GREAT! performances and usual humour and interaction with the crowd. His presence alone makes it more warm and inviting and there is plenty here to get your teeth into. Highly recommended...
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Live at Mothster Mansion - Vol 2 (Charity Release)
by Tiger Moth Tales
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