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The Perilous Tree

by Richie Healy

supported by
mcindica
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mcindica Bleak, cold, windswept moonlit mindscape. Definitely a grower.
Favorite track: She Sits With The Moon.
Tom Lonergan / The Loner Promotions
Tom Lonergan / The Loner Promotions thumbnail
Tom Lonergan / The Loner Promotions "Cold Grey Shine" captures the stripped back passion of this whole album and Richie's full vocal range with perfect accordion accompaniment by Ger Moloney Favorite track: Cold Grey Shine.
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1.
Fallen in 03:04
2.
I know you're a stranger, all wet blue and cold, a scented sweet danger, with your lips you invoke. Damned if I don't, Damned if I do, I kneel at the altars of waiting for you. There's rain on the wind, it's cold, wet and it's blue, there's rain on the wind, it could only be you. Soft blue mirth, wore it last week for a week, every time you go past I hear the angels speak. the night needs a star, serpent needs a vine, love needs a touch, to keep it from crying. There's rain on the wind, its cold, wet and it's blue, it's hammering down, soaking me through. There's a taken down halo, on a broken backed chair, it sits without an owner, it's yours to declare, the night needs a star, serpent needs a vine, love needs a touch, to keep it from crying. The summer bird sings, in a morning sky blue, she sings out of time, could only be you. Now a raven looks down, from the perilous tree and I know he knows well, it could only be me. It could only be me, It could only be me.
3.
I have pounded these words with a hammer of love I have trusted these birds, as they climb up above, now they fall in my serpentine clasp. I can feel them fall down in a Jesus of thorns, laugh like they cannot be free. Now you must not speak, come quietly seek, there is nothing here for you to know, we must leave them behind, the blues and the blind, all these thoughts we make our death row. I cannot forsake the moves that you make, I cannot hold tears that won't flow, I stand by the corpse of all you held dear, I hold all the words that you spoke. Now you must not speak, come quietly seek, there is nothing here for you to know, we must leave them behind, the blues and the blind, all these thoughts we make our death row. You're some kind of crucifix, you just won't fix very much, a midas for souls they tell me, not all is of gold that you touch. You must not speak, We must leave them behind, the blues and the blind, all these thoughts we make our death row, these thoughts we make our death row.
4.
Mothers of mercy , I am waiting for ye, can't you see how my limbs are all broken, the wash of the waves, takes us further to sea, out here where our words are unspoken. I live by the needle, hang by a thread, sip from a flask full of tears, come to you now from the soft river bed, with me my bouquet of fears. Let me lay cross your breast, as night it gets undressed, hold tight to my willowing frame, cloak me in quiet, like a ghost who forgets, if the prince or the pauper's to blame. I walked when I could on the blackberry paths of your fogside hill silhouette, I danced with you twice, on the only way back, in the arms of your careless regret. I wait now a slave on your vaudeville shores, with cast iron vows to renew, old bottles ,they know what they need to give back to the places I've taken you to. Let me lay cross your breast, as night it gets undressed, hold tight to my willowing frame, cloak me in quiet, like a ghost who forgets, if the prince or the pauper"s to blame. I held you in favour, because I was able to sever the black from your night, we danced through your dreams, fell through your fables, your arms, they still sting me tonight. Sorrow it sits in a quiet old place, you will come with your own sense of duty, it will take the lines that have taken your face, for sorrow, it has it's own beauty. Let me lay cross your breast ,as night it gets undressed, hold tight to my willowing frame, cloak me in quiet, like a ghost who forgets if the prince or the pauper is to blame.
5.
6.
Nectar Jars 04:35
Your nectar jars are safely placed to no applause on a crimson bed. fingers run your temples,light, in molten flames of a candled night. Did you come in here out of fear of love, await the sanded, tumbling dove, did you come in here out of love or fear, await that ghost train to appear. Your broken stars of falling jade, are without cause and over played. Horsemen dim have taken flight, on stolen shame that beggar's ride. Did you come in here out of fear of love, await that sanded, tumbling dove. did you come in here out of love or fear, await that ghost train to appear. You sang a song of sixpence then, with hapless words from your broken pen. It's one for sorrow ,two for joy, you're riding north in a southern sky. Did you come in here out of fear of love, await the sanded, tumbling dove. did you come in here out of love or fear, await that ghost train to appear. You climb the walls with your chartless charts, looking for the girl with the antelope's heart. You Climb the walls with your chartless charts, you're looking for the girl with the antelope's heart. Did you come in here out of fear of love, await the sanded tumbling dove, did you come in here out of love of fear, await that ghost train to appear, did you come in here out of fear of love, did you come in here out of fear of love.
7.
Midnight Blue A slipknot hangs beneath the bridge, she touches it with thoughts she brings. on broken leaf, she cracks the ridge, with songs she hums, she never, never sings. She swears she knew she loved a man, crossed her path, he stole her hand, carved her name on the breaker's swell, drank her soul from a secret , secret well. Her eyes are made of midnight blue, her heart it breaks for staying true, her soul, it screams on the silent greens, hold light the touch of your markers dream. A pirouetting dancing charm, a silhouette of razor's harm, water comes, water flows, gushes everywhere she goes, bloodied fingers ,hold the rose, a drifting lighthouse marked, marked repose. Her eyes are made of midnight blue, awake again, I would dance with you Her soul, it screams in the silent greens, thread light the touch of your markers dream. Her eyes are made of midnight blue, awake again, I would dance with you, awake again, I would dance with you, awake again, I would dance with you.
8.
Princess Of The Ditch She was hanging on to jesus, with a newly emptied bottle, screaming through her hometown, falling down the streets, I curse you all to hell, my wounds, they run that deep. Fill me my bottle, fill it to the brim, drown me in that whiskey, soak me in that gin, if it ain't me to blame, if it ain't me to blame, why do I own the shame. He found her in her dollhouse days, with everyone away, he swore her to his silence, for the games he made her play. She found him in his tower, she had to let him know, he took her life, a second time, for her secrets of the snow. Fill me my bottle, fill it to the brim, burn me with that whiskey, soak me with that gin, if it ain't me to blame, If it ain't me to blame, why do I wear the shame. Frost, it came in early, through dark December's trees, played diamonds on her forehead, her tears began to freeze. He placed one last and useless kiss, on her slowly pulling lips, her secret's told, her story folds, sweet princess of the Ditch. Fill me my bottle, fill it to the brim, Sting me with your whiskey, drown me with your gin, If it ain't me to blame, If it ain't me to blame, why do I own the shame. The games he made her play, THE GAMES HE MADE HER PLAY. .
9.
She Sits With The Moon She dances to songs of Sinatra, In a dress ,she once pawned it when new, her nails are all tall and repainted, a glass raised in curacao blue. She knows more of a war than a soldier, her boys knew it too until June, When darkness comes heavy to haunt her, she , she just sits with the moon. When silver cast shadows are climbing, They find her, she dances the room, She laughs like she knows , through the nightime , She, she just sits with the moon. In a garden of overgrown memories, planted with a man she once knew, she hopes in the springtime to fix it, If the sun, it would only comes through. On a mantle of left over pictures, in the cracking gold leaf of love, she holds them all, ever more tightly, a Garland, a ring and a glove. When silver cast shadows are climbing, They find her, she dances the room, She laughs like she knows, through the nightime, She, she just sits with the moon. There's a rain on the roof of her memories, Moments taken too soon , she looks like she knows, through the nighttime, She, she just sits with the moon, she, she just sits with the moon.

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released November 9, 2017

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Richie Healy Kilkenny, Ireland

Richie Healy is a singer songgwriter fro Kilkenny Ireland,his work is best described as gothic folk/blues.
Dark Lyrics carried with conviction and intensity,
a gravelled , earthy vocal digs deep in the trenches of the soul, his songs take you to places of vivid imagery, where he ponders the darkness within,
without desperation, a smokey whiskey place of contemplation...
... more

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