Teatime At A Funeral

by The Glue Ensemble

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  • Digital Album

    Immediate download of 4-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

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1.
03:50
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2.
03:00
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3.
03:41
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4.
05:12
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about

Full EP comes with full sleeve notes and a free bonus video "Soft & Low"

credits

released 01 December 2010

tags

tags: acoustic alternative London

license

all rights reserved

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about

Alternative acoustic music from London and Paris.

We are the sound of slipping away before everyone else wakes. We are the feeling of a train journey back to where you grew up. We are the sound of tea-time at a funeral. ... more

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Track Name: Human Resources
Do you know what I am doing here today?
I'm here to crush your spirit into little tiny pieces.
It's not personal, it's contractual you hear,
Remember the forms you filled? Well you did not adhere...

So please make way for my men
Make haste, save grace and keep face
As we don't want a nasty filthy scene.

Everything you built was just a whisper on the breeze.
It's not '98 when you had the world at your feet.
Everyone is younger, fitter faster and more aware
Of smart phone applications and time management software.

So please make way for my men
Make haste, keep grace and save face
As we don't want a nasty filthy scene.
Track Name: London Fields
This town, you said,
Was made of cobweb
And it reeks of sleep.
Dead eyes of Shoreditch
Will move to Seahouses
And feed puffins in snow.

And I see
I see right through
And I see
I see right through
London Fields


As we recoil from the stasis
And incomplete mathematics
Someone lit the matches.
And these women wear veils
And these veils prevail
And these veils trail aeroplanes

And she sees
She sees right through
And she sees
She see's right through
London Fields
Track Name: Death Of A Civil Servant
He goes out walking to escape the thought,
His beard is a bramble in which he is caught.
Blackberries bleed onto his fingers as he takes off a shoe,
Feels the certainty of certainty cutting through.
And analgesia seeps from the sleeping soil,
As the evening sun burns beetles backs and makes the brain boil.
His beard is the bramble home to all the words
That sing silent in the sunset like the sighing of the birds
Who sing

Life is just a pause between the curtain and the applause
And love is a mirror of the pain it will cause

Worms they hold his counsel as they pull below the ground,
Grave little ministers devouring the sound.
Beetles bite and burrow as he lies against the tree
But if there's someone in there with him - it's no one he can see
Because his mind is wound with ivy and the path is overgrown,
So he unties his tie and lies as silent as a stone.
And no one saw him live and no one saw him stop.
And the world will stay spinning and the leaves will still drop
Singing

Life is just a pause between the curtain and the applause
And love is a mirror of the pain it will cause

Now there's seeds in his belly and spiders in his teeth,
And his body bends the bushes pushing up from underneath
The canopy of root and branch reformed into a mouth -
Words fly up to heaven - birds are flying south.
And he can feel the sap rising in his veins.
And the certainty of certainty is born of doubt and pain.
And beetles bite and burrow in the body that once was
And dignity asks questions and the answer is - "just because..."

Life is just a pause between the curtain and the applause
And love is a mirror of the pain it will cause.
Track Name: Writing My Name (On The Back Of Your Hand)
You walk in the room and everything stops -

The silence carves grooves that ache for the needle to drop

And cover the shame we can't bear to name.
Oh, you are the shoes I can't fill but the same
You pinch my feet inch by inch by inch
By inch by inch by inch by inch

So why do you think it's changed?
Why do you think it's changed?
When those moments of clarity run like mascara in rain
Why do you think it's changed?

You walk in the room and the music goes on.
Is there someone you recognise written into this song, this song, this song, this song?

Because almost as planned you're too drunk to stand.
You know this place like the back of my hand,
But you stumble and fall
Because you know nothing at all.

So why do you think... etc

Oh the window was wide
And the night slipped inside
To lie cold by your side
Like the words you denied,
Like the number you regret
But cannot forget.

There's stains on your arms
And marks on your palms -
To write love on your wrist
How could I resist?
The engine is running, the radio is on
Is there someone you know, written in this song?

Because I'm writing my name on the back of your hand
You look at me but you don't understand.

I'm writing my name on the back of your hand
You look at me - but you don't understand.

I'm writing my name on the back of your hand
You look at me - but you don't understand?

I'M WRITING MY NAME ON THE BACK OF YOUR HAND
YOU LOOK AT ME - BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!

So why do you think it's changed?
Why do you think it's changed?
Why do you think we've changed
When those moments of clairty run like mascara in rain...

You walk in the room and everything stops.