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No Time To Be Tender

by Ian Fitzgerald

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Yimmy Kil
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Yimmy Kil One of my very favorite lyricists. Every album is brilliant. I just wish there was more. Favorite track: Walks Like Tussaud.
PaisleyTunes
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PaisleyTunes In a stroke of serendipity, I sat down next to Ian at a Dan Blakeslee / Vudu Sister show recently - and lucky I did too - Ian's music is more than amazing, it's folk heroic.

The One On The Black Horse is an epic (Think Josh Ritter's Another New World).

Simply phenomenal. Favorite track: The One On The Black Horse.
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1.
The fences that you mended that you meant to keep me out with are now pens that you are holding me in I was just empty, when your shoulder bent you asked as if I should have seen it coming, "Where have we been?" The lines I walk are dead but they've been propped up 'til I cross them; I've been lost on just so many different paths You sent word from Leroy Street that your best friend was face-down and kicking at the hardwood from your hip bath Someone dry this pavement while my name is still here The street feels like it's shifting; I don't want to disappear I can't tell you, honey, where I'll be in a year Here's something to remember me by Her lidless eyes the sun to blind stared down the dusk approaching but the darkest hour succeeds the brightest day The starry night is muted by the city's screaming streetlights while the wheat fields wave a million miles away Though I never danced, my footprints span the sands like evidence; heavy hangs the moonlight bearing down Her name engraved on my hand's palms that reached out to embrace her 'til I heard the voices singing from the ground Someone dry this pavement while my name is still here The street feels like it's shifting; I don't want to disappear I can't tell you, honey, where I'll be in a year Here's something to remember me by While the carousel keeps spinning through its brass-ring-circled searchlight, the stowaways in gilded carriage ride I've seen too many rivers to believe this one won't flood This mountain is too muddy not to slide The scars that you left on my chest when you lifted your head from its rest haven't faded Your bottle was broken it cut fog and floated; the message was wet but it made it Someone dry this pavement while my name is still here The street feels like it's shifting; I don't want to disappear I can't tell you, honey, where I'll be in a year Here's something to remember me by Here's something to remember me by here's something to remember me Who'd want to remember me? Here's something to remember me by
2.
The full moon hardly looked at peace but for the halo 'round its head But ain't it just like southern thunder to try to rain over the dead When the sun comes, let it bakes us so one warm wind could blow us down But they'll discover our hands holding on a hundred years from now So let's go down to Memphis and we'll kiss like golden masks And replace the turquoise stolen from my eyes With the reflection of you standing under clear blue skies I have seen unallied armies conquer greater men than me And then cast them like Calypso to the center of the sea Even in lost ladies' dens, the end is just as deeply felt When they see through glass but darkly their reflections start to melt So let's go down to Corinth where we'll tear those columns down 'Til the twinkling belles sing homespun lullabies And the red dawn that surrounds you becomes clear blue skies Or we could stay right here and let the sun sink low enough To make our shadows long enough to reach the city lines But if we wait too long, the night can just erase us And there's no way to escape that but with time The sand flowed just like gold dust through our fingers and our toes You could almost feel that burning wheel from where the highway rose If you see the rooftops glowing, it's just palaces downstream It's not worth the curse, whirlwinds, or worse to kiss that kind of queen So let's go down to Sardis and we'll drink the river dry But let its bed rest like its own grave where it lies Pointing either to the sea or to the clear blue sky
3.
Galveston 04:43
In the dim light of day when the whole room turns grey And the afternoon's heavy with pale heat She turns the clock on its side so the six is a nine And it's a matter of time 'til she fails me She lifts up her head from the blanketless bed Says, "I hope you know what a pal you've been" Like love was a handshake or worse, a mistake And she wished she'd never left Galveston You can wait and wonder why we don't get a second try I've been gone and back again, but I ain't been to Galveston I sweep at the dust I've allowed to build up With my hand as I sit on the cool floor If it don't pull me under, it can't hurt to wonder Sometimes how long I've been a fool for But since my mind drifts, I'd as soon wonder if Light is brighter where the silver spins Or if the cloud that just flew was dust from her boots That traveled here from Galveston You can wait and wonder why we don't get a second try I've been gone and back again, but I ain't been to Galveston When her hand reaches for me, I try to ignore it The dark's an excuse good as any Then from memory, things that she's said to me I repeated and asked if she meant them She eased my ear to her lips, whispered, "You've learned my tricks. Hocus pocus and Sim sala bim." Then she rolled over gently, the whole room felt empty She could have been in Galveston You can wait and wonder why we don't get a second try I've been gone and back again, but I ain't been to Galveston I've been gone and back again, but I ain't been to Galveston
4.
I've been weary since I woke, saw the light and smelled the smoke I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line There's a woman 'neath my window; I don't wanna let her in, though I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Gonna meet her down the line where good fortune meets design Where the benefits you pray for meet the penitence you pay for And a dollar ain't worth nothing 'cause it can't buy any time Gonna make sure that Melinda's doing fine I have held her body quaking every time she's been forsaken I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Even if I held the gun, it would be straight to me she'd run I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Gonna meet her down the line where good fortune meets design Where the benefits you pray for meet the penitence you pay for And a dollar ain't worth nothing 'cause it can't buy any time Gonna make sure that Melinda's doing fine In her home behind the mine shaft, she could hear it when the boys laughed Or when one would drop his ax and pass the cards Not a single bird in sight; she imagined they took flight 'Cause there's work to be had here but it's hard Got to scrub the pots and pans if you want to watch her dance I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line You can beg forevermore, but she'll never take the floor I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Gonna meet her down the line where good fortune meets design Where the benefits you pray for meet the penitence you pay for And a dollar ain't worth nothing 'cause it can't buy any time Gonna make sure that Melinda's doing fine There's the gentle dark of night and the dark you just can't fight I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Hold her hand and sign the deed: satisfaction guaranteed I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Sweat that started on her brow wound up buried by the plow In the soil being swept to either side But rocks aren't fit to plant in; some folks work so they can't sin And some so they can say 'at least we tried' There are foxes in the yard 'til the morning standing guard I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line I would comfort, but I can't: planned my last words in advance I'm gonna meet Melinda down the line Gonna meet her down the line where good fortune meets design Where the benefits you pray for meet the penitence you pay for And a dollar ain't worth nothing 'cause it can't buy any time Gonna make sure that Melinda's doing fine
5.
In the back of the museum where they used to keep the brooms For fans of random history, there's a perfect little room There's an Austrian dictator and a star of radio And a dozen other people that nobody seems to know Like President Buchanan, unpopular as in his day, Who is facing Mary Pickford, less than seven feet away "My heart would bleed like Kansas if they'd shaped one out of wax If only I could reach you, I would teach you to relax You could be my best girl, all my secrets I could tell 'Cause I know that you don't say much but the silence suits you well I want the rings on your hands to leave corresponding marks In the valleys of my fingers from holding on too long and hard All the coquettes' kisses carved in stone like monuments Could last half a lifetime for a dozen other gents But I'm no face in a frieze in the space above a door I may not make a motion, but I deserve a little more." By then he thought his thoughts were clouding and his train had jumped the tracks But it was smoke in the room rising as if straight from the stack He would have turned his gaze to Mary if it wasn't fixed that way And he looked for something calming but with urgency to say Instead he started leaning though he never had before As the heat was quickly rising, radiating from the floor Just as rapidly, he realized with his right arm fully stretched That he might finally touch his love: a touch that no good man forgets When he noticed the gap closing faster than he could have planned, He realized she was reaching, too, with softly folded hands "Mary, though you might as well have been another world away, I knew that you were thinking of me; you just couldn't say." Then as if he needed one more thing he'd never seen before The curls of Mary's hair began to dive like sparrows to the floor Her grey eyes started sliding toward the bottom of her face And instead of moving towards him, she was settling in place Despite it all, he reached for her with still strong-standing hope But even his own sliding eyes could recognize the scope "Oh Mary, I'm afraid the sun is sinking on us both But you have never looked so lovely; you have never looked so close." He felt his reach grow shorter as he lost his fingertips And he prayed a flood would come to end death by a thousand drips He fixed his gaze on her until his eyes could no more swim Though her face had puddled on the floor, he swore she winked at him "Oh Mary, Mary Icarus ain't got nothin' on me Mary, Mary Icarus ain't got nothin' on me." They managed to save Elvis; nearly half of JFK; And Marilyn Monroe, though it looked like her dying day; A headless Hiawatha; Babe Ruth without his bat; And the past claimed Cleopatra but the present spared her cats The back room was a massacre though it went untouched by flames They couldn't ID any body by their empty frames There wasn't any crime scene, just an overloaded fuse And a race at least to save materials to be reused 'Cause from wax we are created and to wax we shall return The president and Mary into barrels were interred Until new life is breathed into their fleshless metal ribs He felt what once was Mary's hand on the wax that once was his Oh Mary, Mary Icarus ain't got nothin' on me Mary, Mary Icarus ain't got nothin' on me
6.
I've been moving since I met you but I'm starting to lose speed I could show you with an empty hand how much of this I need I've been learning lessons that you didn't mean to teach While you've been learning how to put your interests out of reach You say you're 'fraid of falling but you haven't left your feet While I've been tying tightropes sixty stories 'bove the street You say you've seen it all, but how much have you really seen? Your lids are hanging heavy with the weight of your dreams Any threat's a better bet than breaking your belief I've been standing sideways letting you in like a thief Shut your mouth and don't give me that look before you leap You should have known not every bed's a place for you to sleep One warm wind could do you in like seeds of cotton grass How can a man know where he stands if the last word doesn't last? You say you've seen it all, but how much have you really seen? Your lids are hanging heavy with the weight of your dreams Sweep out all the ashes, there's a fire to be lit There's no place for the present when the past is in the pit You can hand your heart to heroes like the mistress of a myth But the truth will turn against you, it won't matter who you're with You begged for more than mercy but you waited much too late I couldn't tell if you were trying to tempt me or fate We can't meet in the middle if there's no first step you'll take And I'm not gonna be here when the bridge begins to break It couldn't get much darker here, if you've got any bright ideas You'd better spit them out instead of swallowing your tears You say you've seen it all, but how much have you really seen? Your lids are hanging heavy with the weight of your dreams
7.
When snow finally fell on Nellie's fire red hair The flakes were gone before their shapes could be compared The dark rings 'round her eyes could have been drawn by silver smoke clouds That from flames escaped and into which she stared If the river rose she could have swum like John the Baptist Or Mary as a mermaid of the sea Staring proudly at the sunset through the surface like a garden That her baby grew before she set him free Her silence was one more wish in the well When snow finally fell Be still my heart Let what's happened to us catch up with what will Be still my heart Be still When Nellie closed her eyes, she almost felt the water racing And her red hair matted wet against her skin Stretched before her, nearly endless numbers counted how long when this fire goes out will it take to start again Her silence left the answer where it lies When Nellie closed her eyes Be still my heart Let what's happened to us catch up with what will Be still my heart Be still She found the force to whisper even if it wasn't true "What if there's no ghost to give up? What if it gives up on you?" The echo whispered back, "There's nothing you can do." When Nellie finally fell, the frozen river swelled in silence And then waited for the cracks the melting brings Her red hair wrapped around her like the ivy up a spire And tight to her tired body warmly clings Her silence became gold she couldn't sell When Nellie finally fell Be still my heart Let what's happened to us catch up with what will Be still my heart Be still
8.
The afternoon arrows, the sanctified sermons both cut through the dust on Main Street But neither's a match for the passionless, passing-less, oh-God-please-bring-the-rain heat There's a man here who's sure he's a conquistador but his horse doesn't look quite convinced The one on the black horse rode straight to the source and nobody's questioned him since Angela's gown had grown brown at the hem from too much chasing down 'round the fire It wasn't her wedding day, anyway she'd just made three wishes worth of desire If horses were beggars, we'd wish they were wordless then ride them right into the valley The one on the black horse grows lines on his face like lines carved in the wall to keep tally Oh, oh There were flowers on the floor The conquistador drew his sword from its sheath where another man might hold a gun It's more just for show or at least so we know that he's gentle but bows to no one Wrapped 'round its handle, a blue field of stars from a flag that he watched them retire The one on the black horse knows light shines for years after stars have extinguished their fire The clock tower ticks like the morning doves flapping their wings in the dirt but not flying Angela's gown had grown grey like the shade of their feathers from measuring time You can follow the wind and not get home again; their are gusts that you can't trust or trace The one on the black horse trusts neither the breeze at his back nor the sun on his face Oh, oh There were flowers on the floor The conquistador tossed his hat on the floor by the mantel where Angela stood Behind it, he entered and offered to cleanse her as only the pure-at-heart could Wrapped 'round her wrist was a rose in the place of a bracelet that slipped from her arm Just as she stood at the mantel pretending the ashes were keeping her warm The conquistador pulled his sword from his side and dissected from elbow to wrist And holding her close as he possibly could, painted red lines on Angela's dress "Oh my dear, you are saved," as his blue banner waved and his sight like the night sky grew dark "Will you visit my grave? Will you whisper my name?" "No. In fact, I'll make sure it's unmarked" The conquistador would have died in her arms if she'd held him for one moment more Instead he collapsed and gasped last on his back by his hat in the ash on the floor The the sanctified sermons, afternoon arrows can't cut through whatever is left The one on the black horse rides into the sunset away from his moment of rest Oh, oh There were flowers on the floor
9.
I want her nearer to me than the cold air in December that cuts through all my warmest winter clothes That fire couldn't fend off and in fact was altogether rendered useless when the final embers froze When the pendulum swings from my door to hers I hope the weather hasn't worn me worse The violet lines that frame her veins fade softly out of vision like the edges of a canvas unresolved Somewhere out of picture, her heart beats a broken rhythm that I've thought about for days but haven't solved When the pendulum swings, it keeps perfect time So her heart can match beat-for-beat with mine I have seen the wilderness reach roots into the city like its walls were nothing more than minor foes And angels on the hillside scared to scale the depths of pity shedding tears that spread the seed of what she knows When the pendulum swings from Calvary to Olivet We'll share scars that guarantee we won't forget Her eyelids map the night sky, stars align and dot the darkness I'm earthbound but I can stare off into space But while I search for signs that heavenly home is more than just the heart's myth My gaze has made its way around her face When the pendulum swings from night into day Her eyes open and I cannot look away The tables were turned upright and the doves placed in their cages to join the ashes of my albatross When she said, "You sure are restless," I could feel the rock of ages tied to the rope and ready to be tossed When the pendulum swings and change is a curse I hope that I can keep my hands on hers
10.
I can hear the humming of whatever power's running Through the walls of such a perfectly dark room The clock keeps ticking gently but it's not enough to tell me If it's striking midnight now or noon My memories are smoke-rings, perfect circles like the real thing But one move false or true and they disperse Sometimes I can't remember how many notes I've sent her But forgetting's just a symptom, not the curse Sing me an old tune to make the time slow 'Cause nobody told you where the time goes And nobody holds you like the devil you know I've tried harder just to give up than I ever did to live up To the standards set by those who thought me blessed 'Cause all that envy empties when the fine folks who defend me Find me faltering as badly as the next But I still hear the humming, and it seems to me that something else Has joined the sound of electricity It's too dark to see a ghost and I imagine most spirits Have better things to do than visit me Sing me an old tune to make the time slow 'Cause nobody told you where the time goes And nobody holds you like the devil you know My door is always open, though I'm just as often hoping That the wind will blow it closed and turn the lock 'Cause outside here is empty and there's no point playing friendly In the end, it's just a different shade of dark If I could go back where I came from, I'd tell you to do the same But I don't know if I have the heart to try I don't care if our courses are controlled by greater forces I'm afraid that force is weak and so am I Sing me an old tune to make the time slow 'Cause nobody told you where the time goes And nobody holds you like the devil you know

about

"Fitzgerald is a polished songsmith who is high atop a field of great artists breaking through to festival and folk concerts throughout the States...He is a tender songwriter who composes with a flair and golden heart, seeking out faith over all obstacles and the burning flame of hope; his songs really take you on a journey." -Shawn M. Haney, Performer Magazine

"The entire 10 song work is one incredible song after another." - Red Line Roots Blog

"The songs here are so good it will take many well spent hours listening to them just to figure out how good. One of our favorites of the year so far!" - The Alternate Root

credits

released February 26, 2013

Eric Lichter - archtop acoustic guitar, baritone guitar, pedal steel guitar, accordion, drums
Brian Battles - upright bass, electric bass
Courtney Gallagher - harmony vocal
Ian Fitzgerald - acoustic guitar, vocal

produced by Eric Lichter at Dirt Floor Studio
mastered by Michael Burke at Specialized Mastering

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Ian Fitzgerald Providence, Rhode Island

Though perhaps technically a singer-songwriter, Ian Fitzgerald prefers the term 'folk singer,' as it more accurately describes the tradition in which his music is rooted. From early twentieth century field recordings through Hank Williams, Bob Dylan, Gillian Welch, and hundreds of artists in between, Ian has been influenced by one of the sturdiest strains of American music. ... more

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