1. |
Breathe
03:44
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You’ve been a long time coming,
It’s nearly time to breathe.
Your cord will soon need cutting,
Then it’s time to breathe.
Sometimes we all have to do something totally new;
So don’t be afraid, just breathe.
One day we’ll hear you singing,
So come on and breathe.
But first your lungs need filling,
First you must breathe.
Time will tell and then we’ll see everything you could be;
Once you let go and breathe.
Breathe, and receive your first embrace.
Breathe, and illuminate your face.
Breathe, so the world can hear from you.
Breathe, it’s the next thing you must do.
The tension’s agonising,
I can hardly breathe.
I thought I heard you crying,
But you didn’t even breathe.
What am I supposed to do now, carry on without you somehow?
Guess I’ll carry on and breathe.
There must be another way to breathe.
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2. |
English Rose
04:02
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Last summer, a familiar scent
taunted and teased my nose.
Led on without my mind’s consent,
across the fresh-mown grass, I went
to find my English rose.
I hastened to a trembling brook
where restless water flows.
Impatient now to have a look,
a twisting, awkward path I took
towards my English rose.
I suppose where restless water flows
I’ll find my English rose.
So I’d walk under ancient trees
on which the ivy grows,
to see what no mere mortal sees:
a grace that captivates the bees.
My glowing English rose.
And later, from her swollen hips
(the hungry blackbird knows),
a life-sustaining nectar drips -
rejuvenates these tired lips
that kiss their English rose.
I suppose the hungry blackbird knows
I kissed my English rose.
Then, caught by nature’s cruel spears;
pricked by a thorn, I froze.
Yet, in my place, she volunteers
To slumber for a hundred years.
Sleep tight, my English rose.
This winter, things are not the same.
A lonely wind now blows.
He leads me in a desperate game
by whispering her precious name.
Then, silently,
silently, he goes.
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3. |
Philomena
05:08
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No birds were singing, no flowers in bloom,
that winter day you left your mother’s womb.
And New year’s fireworks exploded overhead,
as you were cradled on the bed.
You stole my heart when I held your hand.
I’m helpless now, under your command.
How could a little girl, so silent and so still,
leave such an empty space to fill?
You’re my perfect, sweetest dreamer.
Love you always, Philomena.
A tale of promise, three seasons long.
You are my story, you are my song.
When I think that you have given me all the words,
there’ll always be another verse.
You’re my perfect, sweetest dreamer.
Love you always, Philomena.
I carved your name on a walnut tree,
I’ll watch it grow up for the world to see.
And I will gaze upon your picture, now and then,
‘Til I can hold you again.
But, oh, from your hiding place
you see the world as it should be:
There’s only our embrace,
and nothing but harmony.
You’re my perfect, sweetest dreamer.
Love you always, Philomena.
You’re my perfect, sweetest dreamer.
Love you always, Philomena.
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Drew Milloy Oxfordshire, UK
Multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer Drew Milloy (she/they) has played bass with Neil Halstead, Sadie & the Hotheads, Band of Hope and others, as well as writing and performing her own songs with Drew & The Invisible Few. Their first EP, 'Philomena', was released in June 2012 as a fundraiser for Sands, the UK baby loss charity. ... more
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