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Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of BARD COMPANY: We're Revolting!, BARD COMPANY: Northern Powerhouse, CrowLore, BARD COMPANY: 'Raising The Standards', Black & White & Read All Over, Screaming Blue Murder, BARD COMPANY: All Systems Go!, Khartoum - From Obscurity To Oblivion (The Demo Sessions) [DOWNLOAD ONLY], and 3 more.
1. |
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More Than Once Upon A Time
More than once upon a time
There lived
And died
And lived
A scarecrow....
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2. |
I Am The Scarecrow
02:51
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I Am The Scarecrow
I am the scarecrow.
Hanging from this wooden frame,
a skeleton of twisted wood
that creaks and groans in pain
at the ravages of age.
The ice-cold cleansing rain
trickles through my straw flesh
bringing chills to every vein
I am the scarecrow.
With my sack-cloth head
full of sawdust ideas
and a mouth that’s never fed
My eyes stitched tight
My brain and heart dead
The stumbling dragged footprints
Mark the places that I tread
I am the scarecrow.
Where bits of me show
through tattered clothes
bought an age ago,
exposing beetle scrabble heart
where worm-slithers grow
amid the daily combatants
of rain and sun and snow
I am the scarecrow.
Stoically standing here,
slumped upon a wooden cross,
age crucified, in tears.
I only have a brain
that works its traitor fear
‘could I be young again,
Could eternity be near?’
I am the scarecrow.
In a field of summer corn
the crows are not afraid
for they look on me with scorn
and I do not have the heart
to scare the black-winged spawn.
I just stand and face the sunset
and pray for another dawn
I am the scarecrow…
am the scarecrow…
the scarecrow…
scarecrow…
crow….
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3. |
Prophecy
03:59
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Prophecy
The crows tell of the walking man
Who travels fields by day and night
The walking man who’s not a man
Who strides between the dark and light
Soulless, cursed to stumble through
The endless hedgerows of the land
He wished for life but walks in death
He is the sweet prince of the damned
Be careful what you wish for child
For there are barbs in every rose
Each spell that’s cast must have a price
Here walks the nemesis of crows
The hares and rabbits run from him
The fox and wolf walk by his side
He brings the plague and pestilence
And in his steps many have died
He had a life but wanted more
asked autumn’s witch to cast her spell
she gave him rebirth but the price
was tethered by the chains of hell
A prophecy of bone and blood
Of straw and dust and ragged pain
Alive under the summer sun
Stone dead below the snow and rain
the crows speak soft of what he is
he scares them as no other can
they fear the setting of the sun
the long shadow of the walking man
Take heed of the warnings
What will be will be
The ragged man who walks the fields
fulfils the ancient prophecy
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4. |
Crow Lore
03:30
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Crow Lore
We sit and watch the world go by
On fences long and oak trees high
The waxing moon the setting sun
We are the crows of Albion
We chronicle the human ways
Their restless nights and confused days
Oh Mother, daughter, father, son
We are the crows of Albion
Our stories written down in books
Guarded well by crows and rooks
And no one knows what we have done
We are the crows of Albion
These simple etchings on a page
An almanac of human rage
A witch’s promise seldom won
We are the crows of Albion
This tome is writ in wise men’s blood
With beak and claw and ancient wood
Seen by no one read by none
We are the crows of Albion
Crow Lore for the young to read
And learn the lessons of our breed
The tales of ravens deftly spun
We are the crows of Albion
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5. |
Messiah Of The Fields
03:19
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Messiah Of The Fields
They left me hanging on a cross
The saviour of the summer crops
Just rag and straw so no great loss
My blood is in the wheat and hops
I faced the black and vicious hoard
Their coal cruel eyes and sharpened beaks
I am the ragged overlord
Who scares the crow yet never speaks
They pray to me to save their soils
From dark boned devils of the sky
In sun heat this messiah toils
To force them to take wing and fly
My Judas is the winter wind
That cuts me with a subtle knife
God save me father I have sinned
I wished for an extended life
A sackcloth head, a straw frayed cuff
The prince of summer crucified
Facing the elements is tough
This ditch is where I lived and died
Yet when the Spring returns the blood
To ravaged fields of snow and frost
I will drag myself from thawing mud
And resurrected heal what we have lost
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6. |
Before She Came
01:18
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Before She Came
before she came
I stood here
for what seemed
like eons
with a blood red sun
setting behind me
my head full
of nothing more
than sawdust
straw
and dreams
a hole in my chest
where beetles
scuttled
happy
come rain or shine
my only fear
that crows might see
through me
be brave and bold
and strut towards me
then peck out
my button eyes
now
as the shadows grow long
before me
I feel a chill wind
blow in
from beyond
the rainbow
and the faltering steps
of something
coming
from another place
I jump
startled
as a pale
small hand
falls
on my
cross-bar shoulder
and I know
my world
will never be
the same
again
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7. |
The Pumpkin Queen
02:31
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The Pumpkin Queen
The pumpkin queen is orange
Like the colour of her fruits
She wears a giant apron
And polished hob-nailed boots
She has a heart as big as Oceans
And helps others when it suits
The pumpkin queen is deeper than
An oak tree’s ancient roots
She sits in regal glory
On a throne of wood and leaves
And will animate her chosen one
As long as it believes
She has no truck with gamblers,
Nor snake oilers or thieves
But she lays her hands on dead things
Until the lost soul breathes
She walks the fields on Halloween
And listens for the cries
Of the final summer harvest
And the season as it dies
She will resurrect the broken things
Beneath autumnal skies
And from the ashes of bonfires
The worthy souls will rise
The pumpkin queen is omnipotent
And raises armies of the dead
To walk the fields of Albion
And make sure the poor are fed
She casts her spell upon the land
The soil becomes the bed
For next years crop of golden wheat
Her spells create the bread
The dark knights of the pumpkin queen
Walk in darkness ‘cross the land
You will not see or hear them
And you will not understand
How the broken fences mended
Or the strange bright orange brand
That appears over the barn door
the sign of her mystic hand
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8. |
The Crows Lament
03:48
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The Crows Lament
White witch heard my plea -
Come down in her
snow dress Finery.
“Give me voice”, says I,
“For Crow is sick of
Raging at grey sky”
“I wish my song be heard,
tuneful as a
pretty little bird”
“No, No”, say she,
“Never such a thing -
for you are black of heart -
as black of wing”
“I see you on the battlefield,
beak bloody red,
tugging at the entrails
of the dead”
“Oh Carrion crow
you do not own a soul
so I cannot grant your wish
and make you whole”
Witch tears fall like rain
filling the rivers,
nourishing the grain
Under the Albion moon -
while Crow croak out
their hag restricted tune.
Koww Koww Koww
Poor Crow still has no voice -
his words, a witches curse,
never his choice.
crow stand in field
sing crow song
to human ear
sound wrong
crow black of wing
crow black of bone
crow black of heart
crow so alone
I had brother black
but brother black is gone
taken by the winter
hear my sad crow song
“stick man
sack head
rag man
all dead
all dead
under ice
all dead”
summer sun here
banish winter snow
healing of the earth
healing of the crow
scarecrow mock crow
reaper man comes
with sharp blade
stifling crow song
crow know autumn
send mists to veil
return of white witch
and ice locked jail
koww koww koww
koww koww koww
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9. |
White Witch Of Winter
04:05
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White Witch Of Winter
Corvus the white witch
Once flew the sky on crow’s wings
And fed on battlefield dead
She ate the hearts of serfs and kings
But soon she lost the taste for flesh
And transformed into what winter brings
Her skin is cold to human touch
She feasts on other-worldly things
She turns snowflakes into blizzards
Freezes your blood and tears
She arrives with the cold north wind
laying ice upon your fears
She hates the crows for what they are
For she once fed on carrion too
She hates the way they cock their heads
And turn their coal black gaze on you
So when the black imps come to her
Requesting voices clear and true
She casts a spell that spites their wish
and in her soul a darkness grew
She hears the crows Kaw in distress
She walks the fields on winter nights
She floats through forests dark and bleak
And like the snow she, soft, alights
Upon the frosted fields of earth
Where she makes her stand and fights
The bitter crows of Albion
The age old war of blacks and whites
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10. |
Apothecary
02:32
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Apothecary
Beneath the ancient gallows tree
There sits an old apothecary
Where deep within its ancient rooms
Resides an old man selling ‘shrooms
That he has harvested from soil
Of graveyards where the serpents coil
And if the ache screams in your joints
Just follow where the way-marker points.
The place smells of dust and moist mildew
And the foul dark liquid he will brew
In copper pots and dirty flasks
Whose ingredients no one ever asks
But here the magic of the fey
Will help to take the pain away
So every year the weak and old
Will visit where new hope is sold
If this world becomes too much
If reality is hard to touch
Then take a slice of bitter ‘shroom
From the earth where sweet dreams bloom
The cost is just a piece of mind
So leave your hurts and cares behind
And visit on a winter’s night
To taste the harvest of delight
No one will hear your painless screams
With body healed but not your dreams
For they are cultivated by
The earth fruit that you dared to try
For every kiss there is a fist
Of something skulking in the mist
In the apothecary the old folk say
There is a devil’s price to pay
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11. |
Cronos (The Reaper)
05:01
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Cronos (The Reaper)
I wait round corners where the air is still,
in darkened alleys wet with winter snow,
the places only fools and dreamers go.
You will not see me, but will feel my chill
on exposed places where the ice will spill
and with each prickle you will surely know
that, soon, the ancient blizzard wind will blow
and bring the reaper with it for the kill.
For I am called from somewhere in the past
to put an end to all that you have been,
a mercy killing for this ancient life.
The sinless child is born to us at last,
the future cuts its cord with hopeful knife
and once more blunts the sharp edge of my scythe.
I am the scythe that cuts through old and young
In cornfields where the idle crows watch on
As scarecrows flap their arms in summer sun
And wonder where the greedy birds have gone
The weeds grow now where once the sharp blade fell
Stealing from us all that we once held dear
There are no devils in this weeping hell
Only children transformed through pain and fear
The creatures of the night come out to play
And dance between the tombstones on the heath
The countless names recorded day by day
With no time left to give them all a wreath
We didn’t think the warnings mattered much
This is the price we paid for human touch
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12. |
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The Raising Of The Trickster
When the western sky turns slowly into the colour of an old bruise
And the last orange streaks of daylight bleed from the setting sun
A cold white vapour swirls through the fields of corn its fingers prising apart the stalks
As the lands of Albion darken and strange noises start to crawl from the mist.
At the edge of the fields there sprawls a verdant forest
and there at its very heart sits an ancient gallows tree
The lost shadow of the long-gone rope has stained the earth beneath its boughs
where dead men are cut down and buried in unconsecrated ground
This is where the Council Of Magyk meet on the shortest night of midsummer
They discuss the business of the fey and make ready their preparations for the autumn slow death
This, too, is where the crows first tell of the coming of the walking man
And the prophecy that travels with him of death, rebirth and corruption.
A hushed silence falls across the gathering of witches, sages and gentle folk
For they know that this visitor sullies the true blood of the natural world
He is an abomination – a harbinger of dark forces and harsh winters
They know he will bring death and destruction in his dragging footsteps
And so – they hire the services of a trickster
A raven who will walk with the dark lord
And whisper in his ear promises of redemption
Which themselves will mask the true nature of deception
For if the scarecrow touches the remnants of the fallen
And steals from them their gold and silver adornments
His soul will be cursed and in that cursing will hide his downfall
And the spell, cast to enable his cycle of rebirth, will be broken
As the full moon rises above the trees
Their incantations can be heard in the towns and villages
The sound of mother nature weeping and wailing
The sound of new born hope
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13. |
Corruption
04:51
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Corruption
Here in the verdant meadows
All on a summer’s day
The dreaded army of the dark
Met with the noble fey
They fought until the long sundown
And the lost blood of the dead
Soaked into the sacred ground
And turned the roses red
When the fight was over
And the legion of the flies
Had swarmed across the corpses
Stealing hope from sightless eyes
The scarecrow from the hedgerow
Ventured out across the plain
And stole gold rings and bracelets
From the bodies of the slain
Into his patchwork pockets
He placed the magic hoard
Ignoring the accusations
Of the black crows as they soared
Above his shameful head
chastising his evil deed
and the damning motivation
spurred by avarice and greed
As day turned into night
the corrupt scarecrow left that place
And a pale light was cast
Upon his twisted upturned face
For when a heart is blackened
It’s no surprise that very soon
Even a kind and gentle soul
Will end up howling at the moon
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14. |
Damnation Trail
04:01
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Damnation Trail
Through forests dark and shadowed vale
He follows the damnation trail
Along the river’s twisted course
Through bracken thick and clutching gorse
The ancient path cut through the land
He walks with devil’s hand in hand
He drags himself from dusk till dawn
Across the fields of rustling corn
Each hopeful sheaf each gathered bail
Along the dark damnation trail
And where his steps flatten the crops
No more will grow the wheat and hops
For he has footsteps cast in death
He steals the failing summer’s breath
There’s only winter in his eyes
Where he treads salvation dies
He leaves a trail of stiffened crows
In ditches, furrows and hedgerows
When he touches gentle things
He is the grief that autumn brings
His ragged clothes take on the hue
Of fallen leaves and damp mildew
At last he settles on the earth
Awaits the reaper for rebirth
The crow man who will wield his scythe
and return to him a life.
The dark angel answers his call
for seasons rise as seasons fall.
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15. |
Resurrected
03:02
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Resurrected
Down here where the beetles crawl
Where the leaves of autumn fall
A spider’s web of veins uncoil
To animate the resurrected
Sap permeates the ancient heart
A life’s blood for another start
Coursing through the body
Of the newly resurrected
Orbs of light spark into eyes
The keening of a newborn’s cries
Escapes the brittle twisted lips
The corrupt brain is resurrected
Knotted joints creak and crack
Straw and sawdust in a sack
Of lifeless jumble sewn together
The body of the resurrected
It sees the world but doesn’t see
It hears the prayer but not the plea
It is the spawn of devilment
The cruel resurrected
It drags itself from stagnant ditch
The bastard child of autumn’s witch
Its voice is like a gravel pit
it is the resurrected
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16. |
The Lazarus Curse
03:27
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The Lazarus Curse
I trudge across these ancient lands
Where crops are reared by human hands
And all I leave are footsteps deep
a crop the scythe will never reap
I see the changing seasons turn
The new shoots grow, bonfires burn
From the soil the world will grow
I track the sacred rivers flow
I seek the seamstress to sew my seams
I seek the sage to heal my dreams
I seek the witch my soul to save
I seek the silence of the grave
These things of beauty pass me by
I have no soul I cannot die
For I am cursed to walk the earth
Unending cycles of rebirth
I wished for resurrection, true
I guess I never thought it through
The gift of life is just a curse
I am not dead, I’m something worse
I cannot feel I do not breathe
A trail of straw is all I leave
The sun, the wind, the rain, the snow
Travel with me where I go
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17. |
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Cycle Of The Scarecrow
A scarecrow in autumnal sheen
thinks of all that he has been.
His age old frame begins to lean
as bitter winds blow in, so keen.
He longs for days of evergreen,
so buys back time, wipes the slate clean,
gives his soul to the pumpkin queen -
the witch who walks at Halloween.
The scarecrow dreams of living free
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The summer sun, the winter snow,
He’s never felt so alive.
The scarecrow dreams of living free
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The springtime thaw, the autumn leaves,
He’s never felt so alive.
A scarecrow in the wax moonlight
is snowed upon one winters night
and as the crystals, soft, alight
he dreams perhaps some day he might
take footsteps off into the bright
ice world. His skeletal delight
some hours later, fat and white
with snow-flesh - waiting for coal sight.
The scarecrow dreams of leaving home
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The summer sun, the winter snow,
He’s never felt so alive.
The scarecrow dreams of leaving home
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The springtime thaw, the autumn leaves,
He’s never felt so alive.
A scarecrow in a cutting rain
watches his slush slide down the drain
and as it leaves, he feels the pain
as bones of wood protrude and drain.
Weak sunlight sows the sleeping grain
as he is called upon, again,
to stand guard over crops – attain
dominance over winters stain.
The scarecrow dreams of working hard
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The summer sun, the winter snow,
He’s never felt so alive.
The scarecrow dreams of working hard
He thinks he’s gonna survive
The springtime thaw, the autumn leaves,
He’s never felt so alive.
A scarecrow dries in summer sun
knowing that, once more, he’s won
the right of those, which he is one,
to face the crows of Albion.
Then as the solstice webs are spun
and shadows lengthen, day is done –
he knows that he cannot outrun
what autumn’s beetles have begun.
The scarecrow dreams of dying now
He’s not so sure he’ll survive
The summer sun, the winter snow,
He’s never felt less alive.
The scarecrow dreams of dying now
He’s not so sure he’ll survive
The springtime thaw, the autumn leaves,
He’s never felt less alive.
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