Time Out Of Mind

by Triangle

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about

This album, through stories, tells a greater story - the story of the wheel of the year, the cycle of harvesting, planting and growing, of ceremonies happy and sad, that involves us all. And it tells another story, the story of Tom, the outsider, a prey to his wild visions, whose universe runs parallel to, but is not part of, the workaday world.

In our world the sun shines, the light returns with the turn of the year, the flowers come, then the fruit, then the grain.

Tom’s world is the lonely world of his grim fantasies, homeless and cold, haunted by ancient spirits, where he speaks to the moon and the moon speaks back to him. He looks in at our windows but cannot share our celebrations. And while we feast, he starves; while we warm ourselves in the sun, he cries out to the moon as he searches in vain for the peace that he can never share.

Or can he? While Tom searches, he is also being sought. Magdalen, his former lover, dogged and haunted as he is, is returning to him. She too is an outsider, the only one who can understand his world. She has shared with him the horrors of madness and of man’s inhumanity to the strange and the different. As winter turns to spring, she searches for him. She at least shares one part of our life; she has the heart and determination of a loving woman, and love strengthens her.

At midsummer, they are still apart; but as the wheel turns full circle, as summer turns to autumn and the sun’s light begins to fade, Magdalen and Tom meet. The evils of Bedlam that they have shared still connect them; even out of horror, something good can come as they rekindle their love and reunite their lives.

For Tom and Magdalen, as for us, love has to be stronger than death. At the end, as at the beginning, both might be lying in a ditch, but at least, this time, they are lying in each other's arms.

credits

released August 1, 2009

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about

Triangle England, UK

To say we are “an all-female, three piece a cappella band” identifies us, but does not describe us. Our themes mostly revolve around beer, religion, politics and things that go bump in the night - in no particular order. And we don't just stand there in a row singing, either; we act the songs out as melodies switch from one line to another. ... more

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Track Name: Bedlam Boys
For to see mad Tom of Bedlam, ten thousand miles I've travelled
Mad Magdalen girls on dirty toes
go to save their shoes from gravel
While I do sing, any food, any feeding,
feeding, drink or clothing?
Come dame or maid, be not afraid,
poor Tom will injure nothing.

The spirits white as lightning all on my travels guide me
the moon would shake and the stars would quake
whenever they espied me
While I do sing, any food, ...

The moon embrace her shepherd
and the Queen of Love her warrior
while the first does horn the stars of the morn
and the next the heavenly farrier
While I do sing, any food ...

I know more than Apollo, for oft when he lies sleeping
I see the stars at mortal wars
in the wounded welkin weeping
While I do sing, any food ...

The moon's my constant mistress and the lonely owl my marrow
the flaming drake and the night crow make
me music to my sorrow
While I do sing, any food ...

For to see mad Tom of Bedlam ten thousand years I've travelled
ten thousand years I've travelled
mad Magdalen girls on dirty toes
go to save their shoes from gravel
While I do sing, any food ...
Track Name: The Unquiet Grave
Cold blows the wind to my true love
and gently falls the rain,
I only had but one true love
and in greenwood he lies slain.
I'll do as much for my true love as any young girl may,
I'll sit and mourn all on his grave
for twelve months and a day.

When twelve months and one day was past
the ghost began to speak,
"Why sittest here all on my grave
and will not let me sleep?"
"There's one thing that I want, sweetheart,
there's one thing that I crave,
and that is a kiss from your cold white lips,
then I'll go from your grave.

My lips they are as cold as clay,
my breath is earthy strong,
and if you kiss my cold white lips
your days will not be long.
Go, fetch me water from the desert
and blood from out a stone,
go fetch me milk from a young maid's breast
that young man never has known.

'Twas down in Cupid's garden
where you and I did walk,
the finest flower that e'er I saw is withered to a stalk.
The stalk is withered and dry, sweetheart,
the flower will ne'er return
and since I lost my own true love,
what can I do but mourn?

When shall we meet again, sweetheart,
when shall we meet again?
Ere the oaken leaves falling from the trees
are green and spring again.
Track Name: Shepherds, Arise
Shepherds arise, be not afraid
with hasty steps repair
to David's city, see the maid
with her blest infant there,
with her blest infant there,
with her blest infant there.
Sing, sing all earth,
sing, sing all earth,
eternal praises sing
to our Redeemer
to our Redeemer and our Heavenly King.

Laid in a manger, view a child,
humility divine,
sweet innocence, sounds meek and mild
grace in his features shine,
grace in his features shine,
grace in his features shine.
Sing, sing all earth ...

For us the Saviour came on earth
for us his life he gave
to save us from eternal death,
and raise us from the grave,
and raise us from the grave,
and raise us from the grave.
Sing, sing all earth ...
Track Name: The Mistletoe Bough
The mistletoe hung on the castle wall,
the holly branch shone in the old oak hall,
the Baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
keeping their Christmas holiday.
The Baron beheld with a father's pride,
his beautiful child, young Lovell's bride,
and she with her bright eyes seemed to be
the star of that goodly company.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
oh, the mistletoe bough.

"I'm weary of dancing now," she cried,
"Here, tarry a moment, I'll hide, I'll hide,
and, Lovell, be sure thou art first to trace
the clue to my secret hiding place."
Away she ran, and her friends began
each tower to search and each nook to scan,
and young Lovell cried ...
"Where dost thou hide?
I'm lonely without thee, my own fair bride."
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
oh, the mistletoe bough.

They sought her that night, they sought her next day,
they sought her in vain when a week passed away,
in the highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot
young Lovell sought wildly, but found her not.
The years passed by and their grief at last
was told as a sorrowful tale long past,
when Lovell appeared, all the children cried
"See, the old man weeps for his fairy bride!" (SM "Ah")
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
oh, the mistletoe bough.

At length, an old chest that had long lain hid
was found in the castle, they raised the lid,
a skeletal form lay mouldering there,
in the bridal wreath of that lady fair.
How sad was her fate, for in sportive jest
she hid from her lord in the old oak chest.
It closed with a spring, and a dreadful doom,
as the bride lay clasped in a living tomb.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
oh, the mistletoe bough.
Track Name: The Gower Wassail
A-wassail, a-wassail throughout all the town,
our cup it is white and our ale it is brown,
our wassail is made of the good ale and true,
some nutmeg and ginger, the best we could brew
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol,
fol de dol de dol, fol de dol de dee,
fol de dairo, fol de daree,
Sing tooralye-o!

Our wassail is made of the elderberry bough,
and so my good neighbours, we'll drink unto thou.
Besides all on earth, you'll have apples in store,
pray let us come in for it's cold by the door.
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...

We know by the moon that we are not too soon,
We know by the sky that we are not too high,
We know by the stars that we are not too far,
We know by the ground that we are within sound.
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...

There's a master and a mistress sitting down by the fire
While we poor wassail boys stand here in the mire,
Come, you pretty maid, with your silver-headed pin,
Pray open the door and let us come in.
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...

You have brought us your wassail that's very well known,
but I can assure you we've as good of our own,
and as for your wassail we care not a pin,
but it's for your good company we'll let you come in,
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...

We hope that your apple trees prosper and bear
so that we may have cider when we call next year,
and where you have one barrel, we hope you'll have ten
so that we may have cider when we call again.
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...

It's we poor wassail boys so weary and cold,
please drop some small silver into our bowl,
and if we're alive for another New Year,
perhaps we may call and see who does live here.
Fol de dol, fol de dol de dol ...
Track Name: The Trees They Do Grow High
As I was a-walking by yonder church wall,
I saw four and twenty young men
a-playing at the ball.
I asked for my own true love
but they wouldn't let him come,
for they say the boy is young, but a-growing

O father, O father,
you've done to me much wrong,
you've tied me to a boy
when you know he is too young,
for I am twice twelve, and he is but fourteen,
and they say the boy is young, but a-growing

Daughter, O daughter,
I've done to you no wrong,
for I have married you
to my Lord Craigton's son,
and he will be a fine lord for you to wait upon,
and a lady you will be while he's growing

We'll send him to college for one year or two,
and maybe in time this boy will do for you,
We'll buy you white ribbons
to tie around his bonny waist,
for to let the ladies know that he's married

The trees they do grow high
and the leaves they do grow green,
the time is past and gone, my love,
that you and I have seen,
it's of a cold winter's night that I must lie alone,
for they said the boy was young, but a-growing

At the age of sixteen, he was a married man,
and at the age of seventeen, the father to a son,
at the age of eighteen,
his grave was growing green,
cruel death had put an end to his growing
Track Name: Mad Magdalen's Song
To find my Tom of Bedlam
Ten thousand years I'll travel
Mad Magdalen goes on dirty toes
to save her shoes from gravel
Yet will I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys
Bedlam boys are bonny
For they all go bare and they live by the air
And they want no drink nor money

I now repent that ever
Poor Tom I so disdained
My wits are lost since him I crossed
Which makes me thus go chained
Yet will I sing ...

No gillot, slut or doxy
Shall win my mad Tom from me
I'll weep all night, the stars I'll fight,
The fray will well become me.
Yet will I sing ...
Track Name: Thousands or More
The time passes over more cheerful and gay,
Since we've learnt a new act to drive sorrows away.
Sorrows away, sorrows away,
Sorrows away,
Since we've learnt a new act to drive sorrows away.

Bright Phoeby awakes so high up in the sky
With her red rosy cheeks and her sparkling eye.
Sparkling eye, sparkling eye,
Sparkling eye,
With her red rosy cheeks and her sparkling eye.

If you ask for my credit, you'll find I have none,
With a glass and my friends you will find me at home.
Find me at home, find me at home,
Find me at home,
With a glass and my friends you will find me at home.

Although I'm not rich and although I'm not poor
I'm as happy as those that's got thousands or more.
Thousands or more, thousands or more
Thousands or more,
I'm as happy as those that's got thousands or more.
Track Name: The Leaves of Life
All under the leaves, and the leaves of life
I met with virgins seven
and one of them was Mary mild
Our Lord's best mother in Heaven.

Oh what are you seeking, you seven pretty maids
All under the leaves of life?
Oh we're not seeking for leaves, Thomas
but for a friend of thine.

Go down, go down to yonder town
and sit in the gallery
and there you'll find sweet Jesus Christ
nailed to a wide yew tree.

So down they went into yonder town
as fast as the foot could fall,
and many's the bitter and grievous tear
from the virgins' eyes did fall.

Oh peace, oh peace, oh peace, mother,
your weeping does me grieve,
oh, I must suffer this, he said,
for Adam and for Eve.

Oh how can I my weeping leave,
my sorrows undergo,
while I do see my own son die,
and sons I have no more?

Then he laid his head on his left shoulder
seeing death it struck him nigh,
May the Lord have mercy on this poor soul,
sweet mother, now I die.

Oh the rose, the gentle rose,
the fennel that grows so strong,
Amen, good Lord, your charity
is the ending of my song.
Track Name: A Spring Carol We Can All Agree On
Beltane, Easter, Pesach, welcome,
welcome sowing, April, growing,
welcome light and life returning
bright as primrose, sweet as violet;

New in blossom pink in gardens,
suburbs blushing into radiance;
hyacinth with ancient sweetness
breathing from Adonis' temple;

Welcome sweet return of gladness,
welcome as the parted waters;
Persephone's returning footstep;
empty tomb in Sunday sunrise;

People, rise! Throw off the winter-
throw it off at last, the winter!
Pesach, Beltane, Easter, welcome,
promise of the love to come!
Track Name: May Morning
On May morning early we rise before dawn
to dance the sun up as the earth is reborn.
On the hythe down in Maldon in our jackets of green
we'll bid a fond welcome to Jack in the Green

There's Ken and there's Peter
there's Sophie and Sue
with our hankies and bells in the chill morning dew,
there's Keith and there's Robert
and Nigel and Jeff
and Mike's there in spirit with a spring in his step.

We call to each other and merry we meet
as we gather in friendship the springtime to greet
and it's eight up for Vandalls!
We shuffle and yawn,
but nothing revives us like the wonder of dawn.

So our sticks swing and clash as the light slowly grows,
until on the horizon a golden gleam shows,
then a great burst of light and a globe of red fire
and we pause in our dancing to stand and admire.

Then memory surrounds me and tears fill my eyes
but I know that Mike's with me as I watch the sun rise
a magical moment with nature at one —
then it's on with the dancing in the bright morning sun.

So here's to young Jack in the Green, boys,
a health to young Jack in the Green, boys!
The winter is gone and the summer will come
and we wish you a bonny bright spring, boys!
Track Name: A Rosebud in June
It's a rosebud in June
and violets in full bloom
And the small birds
singing love songs on each spray:
We'll pipe and we'll sing, love,
We'll dance in a ring, love
When each lad takes his lass all on the green grass
And it's all to plough where the fat oxen graze low
And the lads and the lasses do sheep-shearing go

For their flesh it is good, it's the best of all food
And their wool
it will clothe us and keep our backs from cold
We'll pipe and we'll sing ...

Here's the ewes and the lambs,
Here's the hogs and the rams,
And the fat wethers too,
they will make a fine show:
We'll pipe and we'll sing ...

When we have all sheared our jolly, jolly sheep
What joy can be greater
than to talk of their increase
We'll pipe and we'll sing ...
Track Name: Rubies of Suffolk
Of all months in the calendar, the best month is June,
and the best day is Saturday, on a bright afternoon,
and the best place is Trimley, in Suffolk's fair land,
where the strawberries cluster like grapes in the hand.
Come, London, raise your glasses
and drink a toast so fine,
to the rubies of Suffolk, that are sweeter than red wine.

Too long was the winter, the days dark and drear,
too cold and too sullen was the spring of the year,
till June comes at last, to our kind mother Earth,
bringing light, warmth and sunshine
to the land of our birth.
Come, London, raise your glasses ...

Too hard is my work and too long are the days
that I spend down in London, the mortgage to raise,
till the sweet day returns, and with light steps I go
to Gosling's in Trimley, where the strawberries grow.
Come, London, raise your glasses ...

To the jewel of the earth in the land we love best,
to the queen of all berries, outshining the rest,
to our fields and our sky, and our kind mother Earth
that gave us such riches in the land of our birth.
Come, London, raise your glasses ...
Track Name: Glorious Ale
When I was a young man my father did say
The summer is coming, 'tis time to make hay
And when hay's been carted don't you ever fail
To drink gaffer's health in a pint of good ale

Chorus:
Ale, ale, glorious ale
Served up in pewter it tells its own tale
Some folks like radishes, some curly kale
But give I boiled parsnips and a great dish of taters
And a lump of fatty bacon and a pint of good ale.

Our MP's in parliament our faith for to keep
And I hope now we've put him there he won't sit and sleep
He'll always get my vote if he doesn't fail
To bring down the price of our good English ale

Some folks is teetotallers, they drink water neat
It must rot their gutses and give 'em damp feet
But as for my part I know I'll not fail
On boiled beef and bacon and good English ale
Track Name: The Lofts of Bedlam
On the lordly lofts of Bedlam
With stubble soft and dainty
Brave bracelets strong, sweet whips, ding dong
With wholesome hunger plenty
Yet will I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys
Bedlam boys are bonny
For they all go bare and they live by the air
And they want no drink nor money

The palsy plagues my pulses
When I steal from house or garden,
Your pigeons take, or loveless leave
Your cock upon the midden
While I do sing, any food, any feeding
feeding, drink or clothing.
Come, dame or maid, be not afraid,
Poor Tom will injure nothing

When I want for food, on nothing
I sup, and when benighted
I shall sleep in Paul's with waking souls
And never be affrighted
While I do sing, any food ...

From the hag and hungry goblin
that into rags would rend ye
all the sprites that stand by the naked man
in the book of moons defend ye,
That of your five sound senses
you never be forsaken,
nor wander from your selves with Tom
abroad to beg your bacon.
While I do sing, any food ...

So drink to Tom of Bedlam,
Go fill the seas in barrels,
I'll drink it all, all brewed with gall
and with Magdalen I will travel.
Yet will I sing bonny boys ...