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Fovndlings

by Fovndlings

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    Comes in a 4 panel CD tray pack with lyrics booklet, featuring artwork by Alex Asch.

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1.
Quiet Room 03:59
The Quiet Room Wisdom comes with movement, comes with motion, let's be clear It does not come from silence, from compliance nor from fear. You should forget your state religion and the obedience you revere. What did we overhear? A Beach at Tamarama where the grommets surf and squeal with delight in the Pacific ‘cos it’s so restless and serene. But who does this silence benefit? To whom would it appeal? What can we feel? We take then to the Quiet Room, where stillness defines peace. There’s no more singing, no more surfing , and we will tell you what to read The Quiet Room is waiting. Make yourself useful, make you weep, and no one can speak It’s quiet now ‘neath my furrowed brow, hold the steering wheel, but the cyclone blows inside my toes and I pray for sleep And the whitewash is my home I wonder where my vision is, I wonder where’s my soul and the whitewash is my home I wonder where my vision is, I wonder where’s my soul and the whitewash is my home. It’s quiet now ‘neath my furrowed brow, hold the steering wheel, but the cyclone blows inside my toes and I pray for sleep Wisdom comes with movement, comes with motion, let’s be clear It does not come from silence, from compliance nor from fear. And who does this silence benefit? And to whom does it appeal? What can we feel? Forget your state religion and the obedience you revere. What can we hear? We take them to the Quiet Room
2.
Hank Williams’ Funeral Sonnet We are sin, we are sin, the jukebox begins, and so starts the song of your life. We are given much more We are given the law you must take a job and a wife Well Sally she says she loves me You know it’s a lie And I just want to hear Hank Willliams’ Funeral Sonnet play Corrugated tin, corrugated tin Is wrapped round you all of your life. Axles in the crib, our toys are machines. We all think in metal and lines. Well Sally she says she loves me You know it’s a lie And I just want to hear Hank Willliams’ Funeral Sonnet play Well Sally she says she loves me You know it’s a lie And I just want to hear Hank Willliams’ Funeral Sonnet play Can you truthfully say with your dying breath We are sin, we are sin, till there’s no breathing left? Can you truthfully sing of a time yet to come No axles in the crib In that time yet to come? Can you truthfully say with your dying breath Singing metal and lines, till there’s no breathing left?
3.
Bitumen Roads In work we become human, but this work it cruels my soul Working just to keep the rigs alight We are But Children, dreaming of a world from Long Ago Children singing Eidelweiss on the burning Bitumen Roads Hey Na Na, where else can we go? Poor fellow my country she said listening to the wind It’s blowing to remove the Human Stain The heat is coming, the heat is coming, I can feel it in my bones Draw the curtain, the heat is coming down the Bitumen Roads Hey Na Na, where else can we go? Hey Na Na, where else can we go? This is my sunburnt country all aglow This is my unburnt country all aglow Bless my sunburnt homeland and the future I can’t know Hey Na Na, where else can we go? I have lived a long time with this soil beneath my feet And from this soil there’s one thing that I know When it burns it Blows When it burns it Blows When it burns it blows Hey Na Na, where else can we go? Bless my sunburnt homeland and the future I can’t know Hey Na Na, where else can we go?
4.
Old Mate 02:50
Old Mate (Who Owns the Law?) We walked, so we did, in the Garden of the Blessed In Mildura In the sunshine In the vines She sang of our dreams with her hand on her Breast when a jealous wind went running up her spine She said I was your saviour and she was your whore And the world was your oyster but it won’t be no more Hotel beds - we never sleep out on the road Under the stars, those southern skies, the law is not our own The only thing we should have kept from Europe’s moral code Is Dare to Know, Dare to Know Who owns the Law? Old mate said, they only serve us prison wine We stand outside the Chinese caff, the police watch us dine But carnage for ourselves and No One else is not a crime It’s not a crime The levellers and the straighteners They covet These open clearings For their car-yards and their prisons Wardens! All we need from Europe is the watchword Dare to Know Who owns the Law?
5.
Brother Fiscalini’s Bones Well the Holy Sisters are singing with the currawongs and crows Angelus Bell’s ringing Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini’s bones There’s an orphanage in Collingwood and they’re singing with those crows and everybody’s celebrating Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini’s bones Well be he alive or be he dead and we kill ourselves at work Be he alive or be he dead and I am dancing in the dirt O- ho ho ho Brother Fiscalini’s Bones There’s an orphanage in Collingwood – it’s a lost boys home and everybody’s celebrating Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini, Brother Fiscalini’s bones Well be he alive or be he dead and we kill ourselves at work Be he alive or be he dead and I am dancing in the dirt O- ho ho ho Brother Fiscalini’s Bones Well the Holy Sisters are keening and they are looking so forlorn The Boree Log is burning on the Presbytery lawn Well they’re telling everyone they’re singing and they’re grieving for the unborn But is not them for whom they mourn O- ho ho ho Brother Fiscalini’s Bones
6.
Tanami 03:11
Tanami Is this the way that Ludwig Leichhardt came? Standing by your river eating stale Chow Mein where those dumping pesticides talking suicide Hey Lo Har the drunks they go. He was a Barber when the Pickers were there Is it safe to say he’s prone to melancholia? And they never knew what he was gonna do Hey Lo har the drunks they go We don’t cry, we don’t cry Tanami Is this the way that Ludwig Leichhardt came? Some flee from ignorance and some they flee from pain A Coober Pedy dishwasher Talking about the Ustache Hey Lo har the drunks they go We don’t cry, we don’t cry Tanami We don’t cry, we don’t cry Tanami Tanami, Tanami, is this where we are going? Tanami, Tanami, there’s no love in the dust when its blowing Tanami, Tanami, is this where we are going? Tanami, Tanami, is this where we are going?
7.
Singing in the Slaughterhouse It’s show-time back in Slaughter-town and those Carnies are on the streets. With their smash-up derbies and their dodgem cars, and the lure of fresh sweetmeats Forgive me, but it leaves me so cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold How do you keep on singing in the Slaughterhouse? Singing in the Slaughterhouse? Watch the Carnival from the cooler room, it’s all football, knives and beer The Head Boner smiles when the carcass falls, his children live in fear His daughter Monday lives so near Monday’s got no child to hold, they took him from her home He volunteers at St Vincent de Paul but her heart’s as black as coal coal, coal, coal, coal, coal, coal, coal, coal How do you keep on singing in the Slaughterhouse? Singing in the Slaughterhouse? Some kick up and some kick down, some hide far away from this house And the slaughter that we all condone, mocks the morals in our mouths When the boning knives lay still tonight, our town will then just bare its soul It’s a hell hole, hell-hole, hell-hole, hell-hole How do you keep on singing in the Slaughterhouse?
8.
Hold Me In The Water I’m writing on the water, on its surface with my hand The memories of your loved ones are now memories of the damned I hear their voices Their voices so low And now the river, the river’s so cold Hey ho hold me in the water Hey ho don’t wait for the rain Sometimes you’re drawing my portrait in the sand Speak softly of the future you think I’ll understand I’m waiting by the willows I’m waiting by the road And now the river, the river’s so low Hey ho hold me in the water Hey ho don’t wait for the rain Hey ho hold me in the water Hey ho don’t wait for the rain I never knew that you’d be so cold
9.
The Great Dividing Range Driving station wagon wondering why they kept on breathing Hot north-west wind blowing from the desert, Who? Could not doubt that sleep was better Than this roadhouse coffee, this RSL Club stew? Wasted youth in the main street sneering at Picasso Family drives on through the Western Plains Ignoring traffic signs like good country families do My father’s eyes were really cobalt blue Everyone said his eyes were black, I never noticed Never noticed before you Everyone said his eyes were black His black eyes were really cobalt blue Tattered copies of Hamlet in the truck Sad eyes watching the coal mining trains and his black eyes would then explain Lend me your learning, your soiled education We fled to the city, cross the Great Dividing Range And recoil in contempt at the lure of mere sensation We fled to the city, cross the Great Dividing Range Can beautiful minds survive in rural isolation? Now we must return to the Great Dividing Range Hey, I’m heading west across the Great Dividing Range I’m heading west across the Great Dividing Range I’m going home, I’m going home Sad eyes watching the coalmining trains Can beauty and love survive amidst these treeless plains? I’m heading west across the Great Dividing Range I’m going home I’m going home Going Home

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released November 15, 2019

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Fovndlings Walcha, Australia

Coming out of the wildlands east of Walcha NSW, 
Fovndlings write original music that explores themes of landscape and loss.

Fovndlings are
Adrian Walsh & Hugh Cook,
featuring "The Band", Stephen Tafra, Brendan Passey and Tom Walsh
... more

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