a lazarus soul - The Flower I Flung Into Her Grave

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The Flower I Flung Into her Grave taken from the forthcoming album, No Flowers Grow in Cement Gardens, Out 5th July 2024 on Bohemia Records

LP Pre-Order https://bohemiarecords.ie/store/bohlp2019
CD Pre-Order https://bohemiarecords.ie/store/bohcd2018

als play Vicar Street (Dublin)- 26-10-2024 - Tickets: https://shorturl.at/rFLXa

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Inspired by the Marina Carr play, “By The Bog of Cats,” it is, like much of the album from which it’s taken, a meditation on wilderness, nature, spirit and humanity.

The album was recorded and mixed in France by Joe Chester.

(c) (p) 2024 a lazarus soul under exclusive license to Bohemia Records

Video Credits:
Directed by Charlie Joe Doherty & Gabriel Paschal Blake.
Filming & editing by Charlie Joe Doherty.
Produced by Gabriel Paschal Blake
Lead & Choreography by Tadgh Quigley Brennan.


Lyrics:
There's a blaze upon the bog
On sphagnum mattresses we lie
Through the dewy dusk we'd roam, where the outlands were our own
We were the catchers of the spark
Blacklisted lovers in the dark
& that swan, a soul in flight
Those dark wings cutting through the night

We grew up the special cases
We got our love of open spaces
From our days upon the bog
& when the arrows went to mass on Sunday morn
We let a sorrow settle on the world
Like the early morning fog

Back then when love was just a game
The young Kilbride & Hester Swain
The blood bouquet, the peat perfume
The wind it howled, a savage loon
That would stab you in the face
Disappear a sibling without trace
A wild to be barefooted bride
Her misplaced sense of social pride

We grew up the special cases
We got our love of open spaces
From our days upon the bog
& when the arrows went to class on Monday morn
We’d dance like sparrows balanced on the corn
In the early morning fog

The congregation they were crazy
To ever think you’d have a price
& you attracted to the fight
For a traveller place is never easy
But when you're raised upon a blade
The comfort keeps you up at night

This bruised brown bog's where you belong
It's where you heard you mother’s song
A cursed chord stemmed to her navel
The flower I flung in to her grave

We grew up the special cases
We got our love of open spaces
From our days upon the bog
& when the arrows went to mass on Sunday morn
We let a sorrow settle on the world
Like the early morning

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