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Not So Deep as a Well

by Myriam Gendron

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Myriam Gendron's debut album Not So Deep as a Well on Compact Disc. This deluxe version of the album includes two previously unreleased bonus tracks, "Bric-á-brac" and "The Small Hours". These two new tracks are only available on the physical copy and are not downloadable online.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Not So Deep as a Well via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 4 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $8 USD or more 

     

1.
04:06
Lilacs blossom just as sweet Now my heart is shattered. If I bowled it down the street, Who's to say it mattered? If there's one that rode away What would I be missing? Lips that taste of tears, they say, Are the best for kissing. Eyes that watch the morning star Seem a little brighter; Arms held out to darkness are Usually whiter. Shall I bar the strolling guest, Bind my brow with willow, When, they say, the empty breast Is the softer pillow? That a heart falls tinkling down, Never think it ceases. Every likely lad in town Gathers up the pieces. If there's one gone whistling by Would I let it grieve me? Let him wonder if I lie; Let him half believe me.
2.
04:12
There was a rose that faded young; I saw its shattered beauty hung Upon a broken stem. I heard them say, "What need to care With roses budding everywhere?" I did not answer them. There was a bird, brought down to die; They said, "A hundred fill the sky- What reason to be sad?" There was a girl, whose lover fled; I did not wait, the while they said, "There's many another lad."
3.
They laid their hands upon my head, They stroked my cheek and brow; And time could heal a hurt, they said, And time could dim a vow. And they were pitiful and mild Who whispered to me then, "The heart that breaks in April, child, Will mend in May again." Oh, many a mended heart they knew. So old they were, and wise. And little did they have to do To come to me with lies! Who flings me silly talk of May Shall meet a bitter soul; For June was nearly spent away Before my heart was whole.
4.
There's little to have but the things I had, There's little to bear but the things I bore. There's nothing to carry and naught to add, And glory to Heaven, I paid the score. There's little to do but I did before, There's little to learn but the things I know; And this is the sum of a lasting lore: Scratch a lover, and find a foe. And couldn't it be I was young and mad If ever my heart on my sleeve I wore? There's many to claw at a heart unclad, And little the wonder it ripped and tore. There's one that'll join in their push and roar, With stories to jabber, and stones to throw; He'll fetch you a lesson that costs you sore: Scratch a lover, and find a foe. So little I'll offer to you, my lad; It's little in loving I set my store. There's many a maid would be flushed and glad, And better you'll knock at a kindlier door. I'll dig at my lettuce, and sweep my floor, Forever, forever I'm done with woe. And happen I'll whistle about my chore, "Scratch a lover, and find a foe." Oh, beggar or prince, no more, no more! Be off and away with your strut and show. The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core: Scratch a lover, and find a foe!
5.
03:19
We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and down the little hill. It is good to love again; Scan the renovated skies, Dip and drive the idling pen, Sweetly tint the paling lies. Trace the dripping, pierced heart, Speak the fair, insistent verse, Vow to God, and slip apart, Little better, Little worse. Would we need not know before How shall end this prettiness; One of us must love the more, One of us shall love the less. Thus it is, and so it goes; We shall have our day, my dear. Where, unwilling, dies the rose Buds the new, another year.
6.
I always saw, I always said If I were grown and free, I'd have a gown of reddest red As fine as you could see, To wear out walking, sleek and slow, Upon a Summer day, And there'd be one to see me so And flip the world away. And he would be a gallant one, With stars behind his eyes, And hair like metal in the sun, And lips too warm for lies. I always saw us, gay and good, High honored in the town. Now I am grown to womanhood.... I have the silly gown.
7.
New love, new love, where are you to lead me? All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line. How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me? With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine. New love, new love, shall I be forsaken? One shall go a-wandering, and one of us must sigh. Sweet it is to slumber, but how shall we awaken- Whose will be the broken heart, when dawn comes by?
8.
9.
Oh, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind my ear. And when my captives' chains would clank I'd howl with glee and drink, And then fling out the quivering plank And watch the beggars sink. I'd like to straddle gory decks, And dig in laden sands, And know the feel of throbbing necks Between my knotted hands. Oh, I should like to strut and curse Among my blackguard crew.... But I am writing little verse, As little ladies do. Oh, I should like to dance and laugh And pose and preen and sway, And rip the hearts of men in half, And toss the bits away. I'd like to view the reeling years Through unastonished eyes, And dip my finger-tips in tears, And give my smiles for sighs. I'd stroll beyond the ancient bounds, And tap at fastened gates, And hear the prettiest of sound- The clink of shattered fates. My slaves I'd like to bind with thongs That cut and burn and chill.... But I am writing little songs, As little ladies will.

about

Limited vinyl release from Feeding Tube Records: feedingtuberecords.com

Bonus tracks on CD:
10. Bric-á-brac
11. The Small Hours

credits

released March 4, 2014

© & ℗ 2014 Mama Bird Recording Co. under license from Myriam Gendron.
© 2014 Myriam Gendron, SOCAN
Lyrics by Dorothy Parker. The composer wishes to thank the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People for authorizing the use of Dorothy Parker's works.

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Myriam Gendron Montreal, Québec

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