THE GIRL WHO CRIED FOR THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF

by Laurie Cameron

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1.
Foreign 04:17
This is all so far removed and foreign Our gracious voices dwindled to a lull You once read me verses in old forgotten English From paper thin like tracing sheets, all fragile You wrote me lines now creased and tucked into the top drawer They’ll survive at least I didn’t cross the sea to repeat the small hours I missed most the jests and tomfoolery And I drifted down the vast streets and tower blocks And in your absence it became transitory I thought it best to scrap the paper, cap the pens Cause conversation’s futile when its hollow And we aren’t to meet again Words are a weapon So carefully sharpened And thrown when the bottle runs dry Though Scotch is a seller Of falsehoods and fiction Know I still had a hell of a time Loss is a creature you can’t outrun Like a bear on hind legs Or men with guns Loss is a creature you can’t outrun Like a bear on hind legs Or men with guns Loss is a creature you can’t outrun Like a bear on hind legs Or men with guns
2.
Doused in teeming rain This year has wound down We’re wound up back now In this landlocked town In a sea of friends to see the hours out She burrows her smile in his neck The kick drum resonates like a pine drop pulse in our chests You’re going out west at first light So slow our senses now and rerun the good nights The good, the good This was doing something with heart It was tearing at the seams It was building from the rubble Like your father ingrained This was doing something with heart And tearing at the seams Back from the brink of ruin Hellbend on good days Back from the brink of ruin Hellbend on good days
3.
I hear the scratch of the chair And the clink of the porcelain As your cap toes tap down Upon the old marble floor And the manuscript lays Always unopened You stare down upon it And overlook the notes And pulled in tight to the keys You utter Count me in And weary faces grow Singing, leave us, leave us, go A ghost wades through the walls at night And winds film towards my eyes Antique scenes and old clockwork radio And pulled in tight to the keys You utter Count me in Two, three, four And weary faces grow Singing, leave us, leave us, go A ghost wades through the walls at night And winds film towards my eyes Antique scenes and old clockwork radio Antique scenes and old clockwork radio
4.
And the streetlights they were flickering Outside rows of quiet homes As the doors were shut and bolted And the sea whispered a drone But down the backstreets and the alleys Ran a girl of twenty one Until she crept into the stable Where she met the farmer’s son And with nothing to his name Except the girl he said he loved She’d bring clothes and food and matches Until days had turned to months For he’d stole and squandered money Saw another take the blame He cried wolf once too many And shamed his own father’s name But he said 'We’ll take to the sea And I will row us to another shore Without you there on the water I’ll stay the weak man I’ll never be more’ And so the morning of the next She fled towards the harbour wall Set a note down to her mother Locked the door and left it all But as her eyes skimmed on the water Her boat was left untied Her lover gripped the oars and there he left Upon the tide And dark, dark was the day She walked back the fool The girl, the girl who cried For the boy who cried wolf
5.
That worn soul He’s slowing to a crawl He sparks a pipe up by the old scout club wall And he dithers though the old clique Will come running through the close As he’ll do tomorrow And he did three days ago She shakes a box Down a crowded rush hour road I drop three coins in For a youth I’ll never know And she’ll tread on tenterhooks As they seer her bus stop with cigarette sticks Who’ll greet the weekend in roars and the threat of a Glasgow kiss I’m just toing and froing And hell I’m getting older This is no snake grown skin Oh reckless grit hatch out My cells while you can While I’ve got colour left While I’ve got colour Oh these streets are growing grey But they’re a stoic to their ills Each house just a waiting room In a ward for the next cheap thrill But my blood is laced with cinders And those cinders want to rouse flames It’s a want, a stirring of faith That there’s more than a life preordained I’m just toing and froing And hell I’m getting older This is no snake grown skin Oh reckless grit hatch out My cells while you can While I’ve got colour left While I’ve got colour left I’m just toing and froing And hell I’m getting older This is no snake grown skin that I’m in Oh reckless grit hatch out My cells while you can While I’ve got colour left Oh we’re always on the cusp It’s never love, it’s always lust But if that’s enough, that’s enough
6.
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthrall For the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more And alas! I am weary, weary O All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost Like the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O Their streams for ever flow, and their flowers for ever blow And alas! I am weary, weary O The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear In the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O And I think on friends most dear, with a bitter, bitter tear And alas! I am weary, weary O
7.
Fare Forward 04:14
A spark broke the dark His teeth held a burnt cigar And he swigged down the last From his old man’s flask His hoarse voice breathed of the hard days His hoarse voice breathed them out A shipwright from twenty four Scars from the timber floor Built through the bright nights Four summers dock side By that winter he’d gone to war By that winter he’d gone to war Fare forward til you take on water Til the sea is howling, ‘I’m sorry you’re drowning’ Til the storms give in Learns not to throw you wagers And the sight of home Is that bit nearer
8.
The mist beyond the hill that was a silver coloured cloak And hid their eyes from the long toil of the road Has cleared to show them warning Of a tired and blighted morning With another hell of a way to go And the muscles in his legs are twitching underneath his skin The hooves are slowing steady to a stop And the pass begins to spiral Like a staircase of a thousand Where the steepest steps are bathed in glassy frost The glimmer of a light that fought its hardest through the grey Is now a shadow of the hope it was before And the dread has left them praying That the darkness won’t coming fleeing And they’ll reach rest and be thankful without woe The track it winds and narrows to unnerve the faint of hearts But there’s solace in their last leg to the stone As if the albatross had fallen Into view there rises Lomond And with that they lay their weary bodies down But night it had plans of treachery A terrible tempest cast A chill that would crack the toughest bones A winter worse than the last As if an old forgotten scripture, taking pity on their hands Lifted back the curtain of the morn’ Thankful for their rest and for the blood still circling, blessed They made it through the night and carried on
9.
Burn a cue dot Spin out the reel You’re the heart of this crash I’m the hand at the wheel Burn a cue dot Spin out the reel You’re no more than a passing Another coin in the well Burn a cue dot Spin out the reel Take us now to the last frame If this is all that love has left to deal
10.
Thomson 04:47
Let’s take the edge off With another shot Prise your eyes from the feet lining the floor There’s always tomorrow To right these ruinous Ruinous wrongs You, you put yourself in the firing line Wrapped in arms that don’t fit you right And you lose your footing when they pull the rug From underneath your dug in heels It’s the price you pay For the company you keep Oh now you’ve lost the hard luck face Tore out the dog-eared pages That’ve got you swinging in to reverse Now you’re eyes are bright With hindsight You, you put yourself in the firing line Wrapped in arms that don’t fit you right And you lose your footing when they pull the rug From underneath your dug in heels It’s the price you pay For the company you keep

credits

released July 20, 2015

Recorded and Mixed at Old Mill Studios, Strathaven, Scotland
Produced and engineered by Marshall Craigmyle
Mastered by Reuben Cohen at Lurssen Mastering, Los Angeles, USA

All words and music by Laurie Cameron, except track 6 by Robert Burns

The Players:

Laurie Cameron - vocals, guitar, ukulele
Ross Lorimer - backing vocals, percussion, guitar, bass, keys (piano/harmonium/organ)
Annemarie McGahon - viola; Susan Applebe - cello (The Cairn String Quartet)
Rachel Neil - horn
Karen Fishwick - trumpet
Andy Monaghan (Frightened Rabbit) - synth
Rachel Craigmyle, Calum Frame - additional vocals

Cover artwork by Amy Hamilton - amyhamilton.ca

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Sunday Herald Top 10 Scottish Album of the Year - "THE GIRL WHO CRIED FOR THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF"

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