1. |
Samurai
02:49
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2. |
Invincible
03:38
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Invincible
Sulphur, sulphur glow,
Burn slow or fast, you are no match,
For my calloused finger tips.
I try not to hold,
Sometimes I hold,
Sometimes I hold too tight,
When I hold too tight,
I always lose, lose, lose my grip
The flame that came from the hill faraway
Will find the oil, find the oil slick.
If we must explode, if we must combust,
Won't you wait, wait, wait for me.
I was all broken down, by the side of the road
Like some sad old country song,
Walking home, home, home in borrowed clothes
I try not to hold,
Sometimes I hold,
Sometimes I hold too tight,
When I hold too tight,
I always lose, lose, lose my grip
The flame that came from the hill faraway
Will find the oil, find the oil slick.
If we must explode, if we must combust,
Won't you wait, wait, wait for me.
We're invincible, invincible,
Invincible, no more.
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3. |
Beef or Salmon
03:29
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4. |
Were You Dropped?
02:36
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Were You Dropped?
Were you dropped?
Were you dropped by a bird?
Were you dropped by a bird from a great height?
You landed on a rock in a lake
You don't complain, no you make,
The best of what you've got.
Did you crack?
Did you crack on impact?
Did you crack on impact or slip between the gaps and grow?
We all reach for the blue sky,
Reach for the blue sky when it comes,
When it's gone, when it's gone,
We hold on.
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5. |
Lily Of The Mohawks
03:30
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I'm standing by the wall,
Waiting for balloons,
You don't recognize me,
That's all right, I know you, i know you.
Come now Lilly of the Mohawks,
From the cathedral door,
You've been lurking with the black cloaks,
For two centuries or more,
What are you lurking for?
Well I heard that that St. Patrick,
drove the snakes from the land,
But those sneaky little bastards,
They made their way back,
They're working for the government,
That is to say they're working for the banks
I'm standing by the wall,
Waiting for balloons,
You don't recognise me,
That's alright I know you,
Yeah, I know you
The fat cat has long since died,
He was poisoned on is feet,
Man, you know that that's a lie,
It was suicide by greed
Anyone who's known true hunger,
Eats everything they see
The invisible man is bagging
Groceries at your store,
You know exactly who i mean,
You just never talked with him before,
Oh God Save Us,
From seeing out nation's poor
Come now Lilly of the Mohawks,
From the cathedral door
You've been lurking with the black cloaks,
For three centuries or more
What are you lurking for?
I'm standing by the wall,
Waiting for balloons,
You don't recognise me,
But that's all right, I know you, i know you.
I'm standing by the wall,
Waiting for balloons,
To lift me from this hell hole,
And take me back to you, back to you.
I'm standing by the wall,
Waiting for balloons.
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6. |
The Year Of The Dragon
03:56
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The year of the dragon,
The year of the flood,
Fire, fire, fire,
On all that you love.
The year of my wedding,
Your Willow was born,
Still here for the telling,
Long after the storm.
Goodbye dragon, dragon, dragon,
Goodbye fear.
We're still here.
The year of the dragon,
The year of the flood,
Fire, fire, fire,
On all that you love.
The year of the neighbour,
Who raised the alarm,
Took your trembling wet hand,
And lead you from harm.
The year of the dragon,
The year of the gun.
The Year that the Harbor
Light burnt down,
The Glashaboy,
Tried to wash you out.
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7. |
Places I Promised I'd Go
03:53
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In the van an hour,
I'm already feeling sick,
Wish I'd had a little more sleep,
Or a little less to drink.
Five hours later,
Johnny, I really need a break,
Can we pull in soon,
I've got to tackle these shakes,
With a cold cup of coffee,
or a warm can of beer,
It's tough at the top,
It ain't easy down here.
It's hard to figure out,
A way to keep moving,
Without losing what you love at home.
My time is measured out,
Between places I've been,
And places I promised I'd go.
I'm arguing with strangers,
Smoking, I don't smoke,
Drinking till they throw us out,
Some places won't throw,
Me and Gavin, We've got no sense,
It's go, go, go, I'll pay for this tomorrow,
And struggle through the show.
It's hard to figure out,
A way to keep moving,
Without losing what you love at home.
My time is measured out,
Between places I've been,
And places I promised I'd go.
Two hundred and twenty on the autobahn,
Eric's in the back, somehow sleeping like a lamb,
Now Justin's finally quiet,
Must be playing with that phone,
The National are singing on the radio,
Something dark, something sad,
Something pretty and slow,
Something about someone out in Ohio.
I feel every drop of blood,
Every sinew, every bone,
Hey Gav, are you awake man,
I'm afraid to go home,
It's hard to figure out,
A way to keep moving,
Without losing what you love at home.
My time is measured out,
Between places I've been,
And places I promised I'd go.
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8. |
Inland To Mercy
04:32
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Inland to Mercy,
And South on 99,
Where your family can't hurt you,
And the strangers might be kind.
When you lose your trust in everyone,
You make a cage out of this life,
If I make it through the next few hours,
I'll make it through all right.
Folding up the maps,
Like you know where you are going,
Shield your eyes from the headlights,
When where you've been starts showing.
Change your name in every town,
And step out of your skin,
Tear it up or burn it down,
Before letting anybody in.
Oh little bird, without a footprint,
The measure of the strength of your tiny wings,
There are no words, for these kind of things,
This is why the little birds sing.
Too busy being vague,
To get anything done,
Lend your body to the pleasures,
Of these ghosts, one by one,
Your thoughts are always elsewhere,
But they're not the sort to mind,
If your soul's a little further,
North on 99.
Oh little bird, without a footprint,
The measure of the strength of your tiny wings,
There are no words, for these kind of things,
This is why the little birds sing.
It's just a show of the world,
A Song off the station,
Conversation overheard,
Local history and the origin of words,
The geography that chases,
The accents, trees and birds,
Those little birds, without a footprint,
The measure of the strength of your tiny wings,
There are no words, for these kind of things,
There are no words, for these kind of things,
There are no words, for these kind of things,
This is why the little birds sing.
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9. |
Brooklyn Sky
03:05
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Here's to the Brookyln sky,
The red hook in the bait of your pale blue eyes,
The man on the subway, the man on the moon,
The fruit sellers and me you,
Mohammad and Jacob and Jesus
All kicking in the basement,
Playing blue grass tunes,
Come on!
Dust to Dust he's coming soon,
Knock, knock, knock,
Honey, I love you.
Show up or shut up, but stand up straight,
If you've got something,
Say it to my face,
Come on!
Me and the boys on the graveyard shift,
With the lost and the lonely,
The eternally pissed,
No 'Freebird' gonna fly in here,
No, nay, never, no way no more,
No 'Freebird' gonna fly in here
You ask me again,
Roger show you the door,
Now Come on!
Here's to the Brookyln sky,
The red hook in the bait of your pale blue eyes,
The man on the subway, the man on the moon,
The fruit sellers and me you,
Mohammad and Jacob and Jesus
All kicking in the basement,
Playing blue grass tunes,
Here's to the Brookyln sky,
The red hook in the bait of your pale blue eyes,
The man on the subway, the man on the moon,
The fruit sellers and me you,
Mohammad and Jacob and Jesus
All kicking in the basement,
Playing blue grass tunes,
Here's the Brooklyn sky, come on!
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10. |
My Next Move
03:23
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Standing at the border in the summer rain,
Trying to put out the fire in my big, big brain,
Oh, oh,oh my next move,
Don't you worry about me mama,
I always pull through.
I've got places, I've got places,
I've got places I can go,
Brooklyn to Budapest, Bangkok to Mexico,
I've got people, you wouldn't want to know,
Don't you worry about me mama,
I always pull through.
Step on me once, well that's alright,
Step on me twice, you better step up and fight,
And I'll cut you, cut you, cut you, flesh from bone,
You say that wasn't very nice,
Well, I'm not very nice I suppose.
I've got two sisters and a brother,
A father and a mother,
I've got money and a passport,
I've got three, three, three telephones,
I'm standing at the border,
Trying to figure which way to roam.
Standing at the border in the summer rain,
Trying to put out the fire in my big, big brain,
Oh, oh,oh my next move,
Don't you worry about me mama,
I always pull through.
Don't you worry about me mama,
I always pull through.
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11. |
Come Back To The Table
03:39
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Come back to the table when you can
Polish your trumpet boy,
And iron that shirt,
Shine the dust from your shoes,
This job is mostly showing up.
Everybody talking "Here and Now",
But we are arrogant, we're young,
Let me see you talk so lound,
When the pain comes.
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table when you can.
I can't tell if he is stupid,
Or numb on Xanax,
You'd have to be a little stupid,
Not to feel a little panicked
We're all typing on our tiny screens,
Present company ignored,
If this is table manners,
We are shitting on the forks.
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table when you can
Did I hear that you are moving,
To Paris or Budapest?
To perfect your ennui,
Update your status there instead?
I wasn't always this mean,
Or judgmental,
No I had a little more compassion,
Before I left.
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table when you can
Hey, I've got my disguise,
And I know that you've got yours,
It's not black and white,
What's wrong or right,
It's a little more obscure.
So polish your trumpet boy,
And iron that shirt,
Shine the dust from your shoes,
This Life is mostly showing up.
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table,
Come back to the table when you can.
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12. |
Silent Track
02:00
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13. |
||||
Niall Connolly Brooklyn, New York
"Terrific. Disarming and beautifully crafted folk-pop. Connolly is a witty storyteller and a not-to-be-missed
songsmith."
- The Chicago Tribune
"Among the most vibrant, poignant, and authentic indie folk artists in New York City."
-No Depression
... more
Niall Connolly recommends:
Popular Music
by Richard McGraw
Richard McGraw is an excellent live performer and intricate lyricist in the vein of Cohen, Dylan and Cave before him. Here, he offers an album of stunning covers and one damn good original too.
go to albumIf you like Niall Connolly, you may also like:
I Need to Start a Garden
by Haley Heynderickx
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 10, 2018
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My Christmas Plea
by Matt Dorrien
Portland singer/songwriter delivers a gorgeous Christmas EP, fashioned in the lush style of classics by Bing Crosby and Johnny Mathis.
go to album
In the Key of Grey
by Matt Dorrien
Nilsson and Newman meet in Matt Dorrien’s deeply-felt piano-driven barroom ballads.
go to album
Lovely and stirring songs based around feather-light acoustic guitar and Calvert’s tender, whisper-soft vocals
go to album
A fascinating, appealing record no less “weird” than the rest of her oeuvre, but certainly the most weirdly versatile.
go to album
