Live at the Lizard Lounge

by Jamie Flett and The Flaming Jets

The ashes and dust The stone in the rain The piss and the rust The blood in the brain From the heart that beats like a fist That swings and never misses This is not the way that it should be But it is the way that it is The speaker of stories The teller of dreams He'll paint it for you But he won't say what it means And the only time I ever said a prayer Well I don't know who it was meant to be to There's a poetry that comes from misunderstanding It'll break your faith in two
We'll burn that bridge when we come to it We'll lose our minds we'll lose the bet We'll lose our train of thought around the bend We'll lose every last drop of respect Now Roxy's roaring the whole house down Quicksand carpet's spreading all around And the Kat will give you a vicious bite But she only means it as a kiss goodnight You scratch my conscience I'll scratch yours We can work it out rolling round on all fours But we're not going home, can't leave well alone Don't you take that tone rolling round the floor
Trying to have a little conversation with you It's like trying to speak to a bouncing ball "You're a hard one to read" she says to me You should try it from this side Then your view wouldn't seem so hard at all From over here the view looks foggier still She flicks me a glance like she was taking aim Makes me think maybe I should be ducking Or, should I try my luck? We could go out for a fffffff ..feed the ducks It's a merry dance we lead each other As we chance our arms on our hearts
Well I come from a silver city by the sea Where there's still a chance you won't come home I can't see all these things you want me to see Can't you hear the swell crash and foam? Can't you hear the swell crash and foam? My grandfather painted the trawlers at home When he no longer could go to sea He spat on his whetstone and he carved them from wood And he named them for my family Oh he named them for my family So we'll mutter some kind of prayer For friends and lovers on white horses And the will and the wish from dry land Like a light to keep them on their courses Now the other he built the boats on the Clyde Like sailing skyscrapers they rose And I'm thankful that he was not here to see Those yards when the doors had to close Oh those yards when the doors had to close So black gold is the soul of the North when I go And the trawlers are just on TV But the dolphins are jumping in the harbour below And the larks beside the golf course sing for me Oh the larks beside the golf course sing for me So we'll mutter some kind of prayer For friends and lovers on white horses And the will and the wish from dry land Like a light to keep them on their courses
I'm going to spend all my money on records So I could wake you up with a new tune every day And I'm not going to eat any breakfast If you told me to give mine away But I'm not going to do it for me If I can't do it for you It seems like such a long time Since I woke up with a tune that wasn't sad I've got a few pounds in my pocket Think I'll go and see what's to be had But I'm not going to spend them on me If I could spend them on you Well I don't read the papers 'Cause I'd quite like to stay as a fool And there ain't much news you could tell me that would Cheer me up as a rule But I'm not going to cheer up with just me If I can't do it with you
There's a ruby to the right of me and a pearl off to the left But the gold that's right in front of me is just as cold as it gets The sapphires that I once saw have headed for the ocean floor Davy Jones's ivory will keep them locked behind a door Treasure in your head it's hope the survivor said So if I could get my hands on sand or an alchemist's secret stone You know I'd keep my mouth shut like a fool and feed my secret hope Treasure in your head it's hope the survivor said So there's blood spilled to the left of me and whisky to the right And a trail of burned out tree stumps like the story of my life Treasure in your head it's hope the survivor said
The gypsy plays in the street Her accordion notes are so sweet While the bright orange young girls slouch by With their fries from the Mickey D's Dropping milkshake bright pink at their feet Talking so fast that there's no time to notice or to eat And later she'll stand by the station While they stride by in preoccupation The seagulls bathing on the Clyde disturb the flat calm As you stare into the morning, The evening has ebbed into the A.M. And you wonder where the gypsy slept and wonder where your memories laid their head In a moment of clarity you believe you can see their sleepy head in a soft morning bed


The Flaming Jets and I convened in The Lizard Lounge (or Kev and Andy’s living room, accessorised with many microphones and some cameras) and recorded a live acoustic session which has resulted in versions of seven songs now compiled on this mini album as well as some videos which can be viewed here:


released July 15, 2013

Played live in the living room by:

Jamie Flett: Acoustic guitar, 12-string acoustic guitar, vocals, harmonica, spoken drivel inbetween takes.
Andy Flett: Acoustic guitar, backing vocals and Hammond organ (not all at the same time, disappointingly.)
Meggan Reid: Violin.
Dochan MacMillan: Electric bass guitar, new spectacles and John Player Specials.
Grant Anderson: Cajon.
Kevin McLaughlin: Glockenspiel.

Recorded, engineered and produced by:

Kevin McLaughlin
Will McKechnie ( Tesla Productions )
Tom Bearne ( Filming and editing )

Artwork by Pam McDonald:


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