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Duck Egg Blue

by Peter Delaney

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Stian Lund
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Stian Lund Far from "cutesy uke", there is a lot of depth to these lovely melancholic songs. Peter Delaney is a wondeful singer and songwriter, and the simple arrangements really bring out the melodies. Favorite track: Pariah Chimes.
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1.
He’s a hound of the city But that don’t mean much to you and me He don’t know how to be anyone That’s a path he must walk alone He’s a hound of the city But that don’t mean much to you and me Broke down, drunk and emptied out Can’t sit still or move about He’s a hound of the city But that don’t mean much to you and me Screams too loud and splits his lips For ghosts at night when they raise their ships
2.
When I become impossible I’ll lay my bones down next to you But if you become impossible What ever will I do? It’s true that I am afraid The big black empty waits for me But when its cold hands take hold of you My deepest fear of all will come true When I become impossible For me there won’t be any cost But if you become impossible The veil will fall and I will be lost It’s true we all have to cross That dark black river all alone But if it’d spare you form the cold stone I would make that lonely river my home When I become impossible I’ll lay my bones down next to you But if you become impossible What ever will I do?
3.
Only 02:45
I want to share this with you ‘Cause you’re my friend ‘Cause you’re my friend I only listen to you ‘Cause you’re my friend ‘Cause you’re my friend Only lovers kill ‘Cause only lovers feel I can’t stop pining for you ‘Cause you’re my friend ‘Cause you’re my friend I’m always thinking of you ‘Cause you’re my friend ‘Cause you’re my friend Only sleeping dogs dream ‘Cause sleeping dogs don’t have teeth
4.
O, great father ocean I have always known The scent and the cadence of my own But the call of waves a-lapping is buried in my ears And salty things are nesting in my nose When my hear was pumping seaweed and brine sat in my lungs I dreamt a life outside you coral womb But tiresome was the process to crawl out of your seas And it took a billion turns and countless moons And the moon overcame us and washed my body out to land And I woke up half a monkey and pulled myself out of the surf with monkey hands O, great father ocean I have always known The soup of sand and grit that fills my bones The molar and the canine, where it all came from The belly in the basin of your gut Touch my wrist and feel the murmur, the salt turn in my pulse The moon who pulls its flow back and forth There’s a tidal wave of lumbar crashing around my brain And down my back it spills into my hands O, great father ocean I have always known Where I’m going when my flight is flown The foam and the green wave, the drowning ageless rock The ebb and flow that stalls for my return When I sink beneath the moaning and cockled swollen whales An anchor never sank or dove so deep And the heart that once pumped seaweed will close up like a clam And lungs will leak their last into the sea And the moon will forgive us and part the surface for my dive And I’ll slip the skin of a monkey and lay down on your deathly bed with monkey hands
5.
Wearing down that wooden flower Was not my kind or finest hour Her head hung low and touched the ground And petals fall but won’t be found A wooden plan to make a life Meant all that time to find a wife But babies don’t grown by themselves And flowers won’t bloom on the shelf A wooden job A wooden house An oaken child of lore
6.
I fall asleep late and feel God’s not there I wake up down and feel God’s not there I wonder if he loves me anymore Or if I’ve let Him down once more I’m looking for the light I saw Despite the warnings of my flaw I’ve lost the shepherd, I’ve lost the flock Been on their trail since twelve o’clock Wandering the night time through The night time’s never been so cruel Now I can’t decode the puzzle of lights The canopy of rain or the cones of ice
7.
In the orange room the bearded man and his wife sleep With brown flowers creeping up the paper walls like weeds Breath is held in waiting for the baby in her womb He won’t grow up lonely for another will come soon In the eating room the blue table stands prepared There’d be porridge dripping down the lino walls if no one cared A five person meal without much room for anymore A year goes by and now the lonely table’s set for four In the cartoon room the borrowed brothers share a bunk While spider-man crawls up the painted wall like a drunk The window swings wide open under glow of blue moonlight By morn its clear to see the two young boys have taken flight In the healing house our burdens fall, drop and plunge And every wall soaks up another year like a sponge There’s always time and space for brother, parent, son and spouse To tend out wounds and soothe our burns in the healing house

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released April 19, 2007

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Peter Delaney Limerick, Ireland

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