From the Ground

by Flora Greysteel

supported by
theretrovalentine
theretrovalentine thumbnail
theretrovalentine Really enjoying listening to this album. Witness, in particular, is one of my favourites; not just on the album but it's one of my favourite songs. Very haunting, I love it!! Favorite track: Witness.
djitch
djitch thumbnail
djitch Vonnegut was Right made me cry over my breakfast. You make some of the most beautiful music ever. Favorite track: Vonnegut Was Right (with The Vonnegut Ensemble).
Jack McCarrion
Jack McCarrion thumbnail
Jack McCarrion This album is absurdly good and overflowing with emotion. Half of the tracks have made me cry. Favorite track: Vonnegut Was Right (with The Vonnegut Ensemble).
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £8 GBP  or more

     

1.
“Here comes The Great Cold” Too-ticky warned “And you’d better not look in her eyes She may be beautiful, but she is frozen inside.” “Did you hear what I told you before? Silly squirrel stay safe, find a way to keep warm. Take your nuts to your nest, because winter’s no place for you. The Great Lady’s come and the woods will be frozen soon.” Here, here comes The Great Cold But is it her fault that she’s so cold? Because winters are hard where she’s from And she’s been alone for so long Who can know if she cares her stare kills – Even great frozen ladies like petting soft squirrels. Here, here comes The Great Cold But is it her fault that she’s so cold?
2.
03:04
STOP! Not another word. You have to go now. I have reached my capacity for taking you in. My eyes glaze over, not cause you’re boring. I’m just highly sensitive to dopamine. I need quiet cause the sparks in my head are firing. There are too many people in this house Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. Can you please just, your music is too loud. I’m trying to sleep here And my brain will not turn off Take a message: breathe in, breathe out. I wrap myself in familiar places, Cause I’ve hit my limit and I’ve run out of spoons It may seem like rude or awkward behaviour To the extroverts filling up this room. You’re home early. No, it’s fine, it’s just A little warning would have been nice. You’ve derailed my aim to play videogames on my own, knowing There are no people in this house Just because I can’t see you, well, I know you’re right there This open plan living room looks great on paper But, darling, it’s draining my creativity Give me four walls I can touch and a door to slam shut Cause I need quiet when the sparks in my head are firing I need quiet when the sparks in my head are firing I need quiet cause the sparks in my head are firing I wrap myself in familiar places, Cause I’ve hit my limit and I’ve run out of spoons It may seem like rude or antisocial behaviour To the extrovert who designed this room. But I wrap myself in familiar places, Cause I’ve hit my limit and what else can I do To avoid this awkward, antisocial behaviour But it doesn’t mean that I don’t still like you.
3.
00:51
Hop, hop, hop through the grass This roundabout you drive past We watch you go round each morning Wondering where you come from. We don’t really care where you’re going We forget you as soon as you’re gone And we NOMNOMNOMNOM on our grass That you pass Rather fast We like grass
4.
05:14
The day that he came the daffodils danced in greeting Their sunlit faces promised that fortunes would change Tell me: how do you hope to afford What they say that you should? Trust us, the soil’s good. You can put down roots. The cobbles wait and the rivers race There’s magic here in these crooked streets Ghosts in the cellars and God in the bell towers Music here weaves its crooked dreams The young are drawn in and the curious fill The alleys and snickleways – won’t you stay, won’t you stay? The magpies and squirrels make nests in the trees Those nut-thieves come closer than you would believe But the river is rising, the river is rising The stones pile up til we’re walking on walls Lightning strikes twice, but the stones still won’t fall But they still don’t pile quick enough, don’t pile quick enough Who can afford? Now I can sell time or just give it away Or hoard it like chocolate til the air blows the right way But which is worth more: these stones or a view of the sky? I can’t afford to put down roots
5.
This isn’t OK Feels like the end of days has just begun Wake up in a mess, in a state of undress With your body telling you what he’s done And the boy who’d be king's quick to say it's not him, But the drink and the culture he lives in So he drags you through hell, pushes it to a trial Even when he's convicted won't give in How can he be let free if he still can't conceive That it isn't just one life he's ruined? His damage is concrete: stripped of titles, degrees But yours is internal and unseen This isn't OK Feels like the end of days has just begun Invading a space that's supposed to be safe While brandishing your gun And the man who’d be king’s quick to call it a win For the terror that's spreading like wildfire And if he made the call he would build a big wall And keep everyone else on the outside But you can't take this from us, we will love who we love No, it isn't about “us” against “them” And who are you to judge? If you’re not spreading love Then you are part of the problem SO GO AHEAD Block up your borders until it's all over, we’ll hope that whoever survives Has left hatred and racism, queerphobia, sexism There in the bloodbath behind And has learned to be kind Cause, God Damn It, you've got to be kind And as for us are we any better when things do not go our way Do we let the scaremongering build up our barriers, give in to anger and pain? Or do we stand and fight it, let love unite us when fear tries to tell us it’s won? Don't payback, pay it forward, stop blaming our mothers, no, we should be teaching our sons That you've got to be kind Dammit, children, you've got to be kind
6.
01:14
Everyone that I know who performs regularly with a microphone Adjusts how they sound when they take to the spotlight on stage, But they don't change what they mean and they mean what they say. Do I have a mic voice? Of course I do. A little slower, a little lower than what you might be used to from me, But that doesn't mean I don't mean everything that I sing.
7.
Is it me, did I cross the line? Did I misread your body? Did we miss the signs that it drew when we got carried away You’re too slow to answer, too quick to reassure me I’ve done nothing wrong, but you can not tell me you’re fine Now I’m at the end of the bed and the distance between us As hard, as impatient as seconds between words If you won’t talk to me how will I know that you’re not indifferent, not indifferent Silence is golden: it’s heavy and drags you down, fills up your head with things you don’t want to talk about I’m scared to leave just in case you won’t follow me Now I’m in the dark but I can’t get to sleep All the words that I didn’t use are questioning why I don’t speak And I’d use them now but you won’t be awake I shut the door and the silence is deafening It’s heavy and drags you down, it’s heavy and it’s heavy and Your reticence to use your words, my stubbornness to not be the first To open up and break the bubble of silence you’ve been sitting in When you curl up inside your shell should I keep myself to myself Cause I can’t always be the first to coax you out to use your words I’m scared to leave just in case you won’t follow me I’m scared to leave just in case you won’t follow me Lie here awake wondering why you won’t come to me I’m scared to leave just in case you won’t follow me If I open the door will you please come to me
8.
05:12
Put me in your box and I’ll tell you what I know You ask me what happened when I was 13 years old I solemnly sincerely truly declare It’s been 16 years, I don’t come with a guarantee ‘I can’t say for certain’ is as valid an answer as any I solemnly sincerely truly declare I’ll stand and declare my most shameful memories In front of 12 strangers whose faces I’ve no way to read You’re here to judge him but it feels like you’re judging me I solemnly sincerely truly declare Pick pick pick me apart, dust off every box That I’ve mentally filed so I don’t flash back every day Take possession of what I have lived through Label and tag it ‘Exhibit A’ Wield your words like a scalpel to cut to the core I’ll clear up after, I’ve done it before Yes I’ll clear my mind after, I’ve done it before [ooh] You can put it to me any way that you want But I’m under oath; did you hope that I was lying to you? Make your statement, cause yours is the burden of proof Don’t forget the defendant is here and listening to you We need the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth I solemnly sincerely truly declare You put it to me… You put it to me… You can put it to me any way that you want But I’m under oath; did you hope that I was lying to you? My memories are malleable in timing and chronology I can’t say it all for certain, but of some things I am sure And you can keep on chipping until I am just a child But there are facts that I can cling to and I won’t let go You can put it to me any way that you want But I’m under oath; did you hope that I was lying to you? My memories are malleable, they’re placed upon your pedestal Oh God, if I say something wrong the case will collapse
9.
10.
I don’t know quite where this is going to So I’ll just wait until the situation takes its toll We’ll take it in turns to have panic attacks About what we are doing Because we’re both new to the thought that This is a thing that might really happen I’ll pick apart every thought in my head And you’re keeping quite quiet about what I said But I guess what it comes to: I think I might like you You’re waiting for me to say that it’s ok A harmless flirtation that didn’t lead to nothing I kissed you because there was no reason not to Well, we can have arguments about who started it But it won’t change that we’re both actually fine with it More than that, possibly, we could be happy And maybe that means that this will all be okay
11.
The little matchgirl sells her matchsticks to blind men with technicolour dreams When her world’s filled with cowardice, who’s she to say that the blind man’s the one who can’t see And the foxes and kittens lost touch long ago, but they keep chasing tails in hopes that they’ll grow With 3 strikes you are OUT and your dreams will die out With the sulphurous lies that the Orange Man told Heave away, Heave away: Bundle her up and ship her on out of here Heave away, Heave away: Off to a place where no one will miss her Heave away, Heave away: Here they’re all blind and don’t know what they’re looking for Heave away, Heave away The Matchgirl is sweet and the blind men can taste it They worship her wares as she dances out of their grasp When her name becomes blasphemy she escapes pedantry in Floydian slippage and saggy cloth cats Heave away, Heave away: Bundle her up and ship her on out of here Heave away, Heave away: Off to a place where no one will miss her Heave away, Heave away: Here you’re all blind and don’t know what you’re looking for Heave away, Heave away So Batten the hatches with matches and silver spoons, Break out the gin, there’s no way that we’re getting caught Now in the downpour that’s bound to ensue When he finds out she’s missing. Who’s missing? Never heard of her The matchgirl is striking her matches impatiently Scrubbing her hands as the man pleads insanity If it’s Chrissie you’re missing, you might as well know You can look for as long as you like; she left years ago So Heave away, Heave away: Bundle her up and ship her on out of here Heave away, Heave away: Off to a place where you’ll never miss her Heave away, Heave away: You can replace her with younger and foreigner Heave away, Heave away: Here they’re all blind and don’t know what they’re looking for Heave away, Heave away

credits

released April 5, 2019

Flora Greysteel are:
Emily Rowan - vocals, piano, ukulele, loop pedal, glockenspiel, singing bowl
Simon Frances Bolley - drums, vocals, orchestral and small percussion, glockenspiel, singing bowl, double bass

Additional musical contributions by:
Victoria Hatt - vocals (track 10)
Murphy McCaleb - bass trombone, accordion (tracks 8, 9 & 11)
Alice Nicholls - viola, cello, additional vocals (tracks 7, 8, 9 & 11)
Stuart Priest - violin (tracks 7, 9 & 11)

The Vonnegut Ensemble (track 5):
Colin Cutler - banjo, harmonica, vocals
Ella Field - flute, vocals
Victoria Hatt - violin, vocals
Emily Howell - trumpet, vocals
Dave Lynch - cajon, percussion
Ewan Margrave - double bass
Murphy McCaleb - bass trombone, accordion
Jaz Millar - bazouki, vocals
Alice Nicholls - cello, vocals
Stuart Priest - violin

All songs written by Emily Rowan
All arrangements by Emily Rowan & Simon Frances Bolley, except tracks 7, 8, 9 & 11 viola & cello by SFB & Alice Nicholls, tracks 8, 9 & 11 bass trombone & accordion by SFB & Murphy McCaleb, tracks 9, 10 & 11 violin by SFB & Stuart Priest, track 5 all instruments by ER, SFB & The Vonnegut Ensemble.
Engineered and mixed by Simon Frances Bolley
Drum recording engineer (except tracks 5 & 11): Nelson Autefault
Recording engineer for track 5: Andy Precious
Mastered by Carl Rosenberg (RRS Music & Media)
Album cover art by Alane Grace (@aleikats on Twitter)

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Flora Greysteel York, UK

Emily Rowan is a singer, piano basher, uke toter and glitter addict. Simon Bolley is a singer-songwriter who plays drums like the lead guitarist he is. Together they make music that has been described as "beautifully strange", "ecstatic melancholy" and "an emotional candy bar". ... more

contact / help

Contact Flora Greysteel

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

Flora Greysteel recommends:

If you like Flora Greysteel, you may also like: