‘FOLKMOSIS’

Beth Malcolm lyrics

 

OSMOSIS 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm/Trad.]

Who will sing o’ the guising 

When bairnies blether to the auld yins?

Who will sing o’ the Greylag 

Who tak their leave when the leaves turn? 

Who will sing in oor language 

That you love your brother in 

That you tell you story in? 

 

[Trad lyrics] As I cam in by dunideer, an’ roon by Nether Ha 

There were fifty thoosan’ hielan’ men marchin tae Harlaw 

Wi a diddyayeoh and a fal and the doe, and a diddyayeohayeae 

 

[Trad lyrics] Ally Bally, ally bally bee 

Sittin’ on yer mammy’s knee 

Greetin’ for a wee bawbee 

Tae buy some coulter’s candy 

 

(Martyn Bennett/Lizzie Higgins/Trad) What a voice, what a voice  

What a voice I hear 

It’s like the voice of my Willie dear 

But if I had wings like that swallow high 

I would clasp in the erms 

Of my billy boy 

 

These are the sounds, the songs 

I drank up as a wee one 

Drunk on milk and auld Scots song 

I slept and cried and wailed along 

My folkmosis had begun 

 

Drinking from the breast 

With wee ears pressed 

To songs that rumbled through my mother’s chest 

These are my sounds, my beats, my rhythms 

And as certain as the rising sun 

My folkmosis had begun 

 

Hallowe’en 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

There was an auld wifey and she lived Sconewards 

Over the fields a wee bit, twenty minutes walkin’ from mine 

On Hallowe’en, the story goes, three excited bairns turned up at her door 

One was dressed a round, orange pumpkin 

The other two were non-descript spookers, with ASDA labels 

 

The bairns knocked on her door, hopeful with their dreepin’ baskets 

“Trick or treat, trick or treat!” 

“Whit?” says the auld wifey “you’ve no got a song, or a joke, or a story for my troubles?” 

Blank we faces.  

“Trick or treat” offers the pumpkin again, shyer this time, unable to sound out this most unusual Granny type. The auld wifey grumbles on about things the pumpkin and the spookers dinna understand: 

“Americanisms, bairns these days, guising.” 

She closes the door on them, and awaits the next round of guisers, with something to offer her in return for a chocolate coin, a handful of monkey nuts and a tangerine.  

I remember hearing this story when I was 12 years old. Delighted to be let into any adult joke, I watched as the grown ups laughed, rolled their een, but agreed, she wasn’t wrong.  

My grown ups were most unusual grown up types.  

 

Edward

[Lyrics: Trad.]

Why dis yer brand sae drap wi bluid
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Why dis yer brand sae drap wi bluid
And why so sad gang ye-o
Why dis yer brand sae drap wi bluid
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Why dis yer brand sae drap wi bluid
And why so sad gang ye-o

I hae killed my hawk sae guid
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my hawk sae guid
And I had nae mair but he-o
I hae killed my hawk sae guid
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my hawk sae guid
And I had nae mair but he-o

Yer hawkis bluid wis never sae reid
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Yer hawkis bluid wis never saе reid
My dear son, I tell taе thee-o
Yer hawkis bluid wis never sae reid
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Yer hawkis bluid wis never sae reid
My dear son, I tell tae thee-o

I hae killed my reid-roan steed
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my reid-roan steed
That erst wis so fair and free-o
I hae killed my reid-roan steed
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my reid-roan steed
That erst wis so fair and free-o

Yer steed wis auld, and ye hae gat mair
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Yer steed wis auld, and ye hae gat mair
Some other dule ye dree-o
Yer steed wis auld, and ye hae gat mair
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
Yer steed wis auld, and ye hae gat mair
Some other dule ye dree-o

I hae killed my faither deid
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my faither deid
And alas it was me-o
I hae killed my faither deid
My dear mother, my dear mother
I hae killed my faither dear
And alas it was me-o

And whatten penance’ll ye dree for that
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whatten penance’ll ye dree for that
My dear son, now tell tae me-o
And whatten penance’ll ye dree for that
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whatten penance’ll ye dree for that
My dear son, now tell tae me-o

I will sail in yonder boat
My dear mother, my dear mother
I will sail in yonder boat
And awa and over the sea-o
I will sail in yonder boat
My dear mother, my dear mother
I will sail in yonder boat
And awa and over the sea-o

And whit’ll ye dae wi yer towers and haw
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye dae wi yer towers and haw
That war sae fair tae see-o
And whit’ll ye dae wi yer towers and haw
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye dae wi yer towers and haw
That war sae fair tae see-o
 

Thay can stand until thay faw doun
My dear mother, my dear mother
Thay can stand until thay faw doun
For here never mair maun I be-o
Thay can stand until thay faw doun
My dear mother, my dear mother
Thay can stand until thay faw doun
For here never mair maun I be-o

And whit’ll ye leave yer bairns and wife
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye leave yer bairns and wife
When ye gang over the sea-o
And whit’ll ye leave yer bairns and wife
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye leave yer bairns and wife
When ye gang over the sea-o

The warldis room, let thaim beg
My dear mother, my dear mother
The warldis room, let thaim beg
For thaim niver mair will I see-o
The warldis room, let thaim beg
My dear mother, my dear mother
The warldis room, let thaim beg
For thaim niver mair will I see-o

And whit’ll ye leave yer mother dear
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye leave yer mother dear
When ye gang over the sea-o
And whit’ll ye leave yer mother dear
Young Edward, oh, young Edward
And whit’ll ye leave yer mother dear
My dear son, now tell tae me-o

The curse o hell shall ye bear
My dear mother, my dear mother
The curse o hell shall ye bear
For sic coonsels ye gae tae me-o
The curse o hell shall ye bear
My dear mother, my dear mother
The curse o hell shall ye bear
For sic coonsels ye gae tae me-o 

 

Aberdeen Angus Bairn 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

We bairns all go through an indoctrination of sorts 

I was born to two folkies in the late nineties. By the time I could speak, my education in the traditional music of Scotland was well underway 

I spent much of my childhood in the back seat, driving through a songbook, from Perth, to the Red fields of Angus, to sing with my Granny. 

Who grew up in the bonny high hills in Glen Artney 

I sat helplessly in the way of music, and like a little folky sponge, I drank it all in.  

 

Folk songs translates as songs of the folk, songs of the people 

In all corners of the word, these folk songs speak of the joys and sorrows of humankind 

Sung to the bairns at bedtime, or at work in the paddy fields, or in moonlit song circles in the desert, their messages stand the test of time.  

And there are many recurrent themes.  

Pacifism 

A yearning to live free like the greylag Geese 

Togetherness against greed 

And our rights to roam and ramble through this wild land 

The folk songs of Scotland were written, sung and passed down on the carrying stream long before they got to me. I never sat down to learn them. Yet they seeped into my consciousness, with no effort in my part. 

 

Goretree

[Based on a poem by Violet Jacob, adapted by Beth Malcolm, and a tune called ‘The Beautiful Goretree’ by Tommy Peoples]

 

I canna see ye, Lad I canna see ye  

for the road ootby is dim wi nicht 

Your licht, your licht a sicht for the weary 

Lad ye live and its mysel that’s deid 

Ye gaed awa, ye gaed tae France  

And the toon is grey wi empty streets 

Nae mair, nae mair can I see yer face 

Lad, ye live, and it’s mysel that’s deid 

 

Beside the brae, and soughin’ through the rashes, 

Yer voice sings at ilka turn, 

Amang the whins, an’ whaur the water washes 

The goretree wi’ its feet amang the burn. 

Come hame tae me when day is fleein’ 

And the road is dim wi’ nicht, 

Lad, your hands, a touch for the weary, 

Lad, when I see ye, I will be blind wi’ licht. 

 

Come back tae me-et me by the goretree 

Come back tae me-et me by the goretree 

Come back tae me-et me by the goretree 

Come back tae me-et me by the goretree 

 

In the Seam Between 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

Born of the cusp of a new century 

My childhood was split in two 

I grew up in the seam between the old world and the new 

 

My teenagedom merged with a new era of quickening 

Where the rate of change transported me from Red fields 

To the dazzling bright lights of screens 

 

Folkmosis is my story of a lost bairn 

And her journey back to the carrying stream 

But first to the rejection years 

Where I’d rather have stuck a fork in my eye 

Than to sing of the land 

And the times gone by 

 

Ghosted

[Inspired by a poem by Cara Matthews, adapted by Beth Malcolm]

 

There is nothing wrong with us 

But that is not enough 

I haven’t time for that’ll do  

So it is done 

And there is nothing left to say 

You didn’t say much anyway 

And I’ve got pride that much is true 

So we are through 

And we speak its on your terms 

I’ll never learn 

That if he wanted to, he would 

So there’s my proof 

And I feel lit up inside when you decide to take the time 

But I haven’t heard from you in days 

So I’ll be on my way 

 

And your face is my favourite place 

But I’m looking for home 

When I sit by the phone you never call.  

 

There is nothing wrong with us 

But that is not enough 

I haven’t time to suffer through 

And see if I’m enough for you 

And there is nothing left to wait for 

You never told me you were grateful 

For that night I spent with you 

The shame I feel splits in two 

And when we speak I get the crumbs 

Of the life you live for fun 

And when you flash up on my phone 

I come undone 

And I feel lit up unside, but the relief I feel subsides 

And I haven’t heard from you in days so I’ll be on my way 

 

And your face is my favourite place 

But I’m looking for home 

When I sit by phone you never call 

And your face is my favourite place 

But I’m looking for sunshine 

When I sit home alone  

I’ve never felt so cold 

 

To Glasgow 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

And then I moved from the nest 

No more singing in the hallway 

No more journeys in the back 

Following fingers, pointing to a town where a song was born 

To Glasgow I go 

First loves, and a thousand pints of fun 

And a world beyond folk music 

 

Pop, jazz, electronica and disco 

These songs all spoke to me  

And my wretched late teenage soul 

 

Old folk songs had always been my currency 

But in Glasgow, you pay with cash 

So I don’t sing them  

I put them in a box at the bottom of the bed 

And turn on Amy Winehouse instead 

 

Growing 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

 

In this here house, these four walls 

Where I’ve come from all I’ve known I have outgrown 

In this here house, with four tall steps 

As I step inside I say goodbye to the young girl 

Oh, I’m growing 

Oh, I’m growing 

  

In this here house perhaps I’ll lie with a love 

In this here house perhaps I’ll find that I’m carrying life 

With a heart wide open I’ll sow seeds for the healing 

I’ll shelter my mother and I’ll grow with my brother 

And I’ll sing with my old man in the bar 

Oh, I’m growing 

  

In this here house, golds and evergreens 

When morning comes I face the dawn and I ask her all my questions 

In this here house, when leaf has turned to tree 

Will I awake up alone when I’m fully grown? 

Well time and tide will tell 

Oh, I’m growing 

Oh, I’m growing 

  

Let there be laughter, let there be wine 

Let there be heartbreak in time 

Let there be laughter, let there be wine 

Let there be heartbreak in time 

Let there be laughter, let there be wine 

Let there be heartbreak in time 

 

A Man who loves the worst of me 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

I didn’t know my ugly side, til I fell in love 

I learned to push my anger inside, til I fell in love 

And I’ve always been afraid of the silence before the sleep 

But his comfort in the quiet, you know it sets me free 

 

I didn’t know my darker side, til I fell in love 

I people-pleased my way through life, til I fell in love 

And I’ve always been afraid of the ice, when they roll over to their side 

But his rays of midnight sun keep me warm til morning comes 

 

Some days all of my demons, and all of my vices 

Come to light 

And all the time this man takes me in his stride 

 

I didn’t know my lonely side, til I fell in love 

I can’t deny I starved by body sometimes, til I fell in love 

And I’ve always needed to be touched to feel wanted 

But his kind words showed me how to love 

 

Some days all of my demons, and all of my vices 

Come to light 

And all the time this man takes me in his stride 

 

I learned it from my kin, some matriarchal destiny 

To take pain on the chin, and let is make the best of me 

But I watch him from the sidelines and how he’s taking care of me 

And I wonder if I’ve broken free, here’s a man who loves the worst of me 

 

 

The Captain’s Bar (Bonny Glenshee) 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm/Trad.]

I live an alien life, really 

To that which I grew up in 

I leave my house before the sun comes up 

And I am tired when I get home 

The piano lid stays closed 

 

Fatigued and unsatisfied by the modern working week 

I come alive a little every weekend 

Joining in with the revelry of the city on a Friday night 

 

One evening I pass by the Captain’s folk music bar in Edinburgh 

And decide to stop in 

An old woman is singing a beautiful old song 

 

[Trad.] “Busk busk, bonny lassie 

Aye an come awa wi me 

And I’ll tak ye tae Glenisla 

Near bonny glenshee” 

 

I think my Granny sang this to me, two decades ago 

Or did I hear it muffled through a closed door 

In my sleep maybe, while the grown ups were singing in the kitchen 

 

It is a strange joy to stumble upon a room of people 

Singing in praise of the wise mountains 

Words and a tune I learned by folkmosis, years ago 

I feel something swelling in my throat and it tastes like home 

 

But the bar is full and my friends are waiting 

There are glistening pints to be drunk at the jazz bar down the road 

 

Little Lows

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

These little lows, my little lows

They lie with me as I toss and turn in my head

These little lows, my little lows

They lie with me as I toss and turn in my bed

 

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

Face the dawn in time

 

These little lows, my little lows

They play with me as I toss and turn in my head

These little lows, my little lows

They sing to me as I toss and turn in my bed

 

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

Embrace the dawn in time

 

Boy was I blue (and I was frightened of those hues)

Boy was I blue

Boy was I blue (and I was frightened of those hues)

But you taught me child, you know that sun it will rise in the sky

 

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

These little lows of mine (how you show me to)

Face the dawn, and embrace the dawn

And to chase the dawn in time

 

Rolling Stone

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

Here is a heart 

Here is my heart 

And I’ll give it to you, I’ll tear it in two 

 

Here is a life 

Here is my life 

And I’ll give it to you, I’ll break it in two 

 

And I always thought love would come slow 

I never needed a home 

I always thought I’d be a rolling stone 

I always thought I’d be a rolling stone 

 

Here is a mind 

Here is my mind 

And I’ll bear it to you 

And I’ll mind your bruises too 

 

Here is a hand 

Here is my hand 

And I’ll work them to you 

And I’ll cool you down when we’re through 

 

And I always thought love would come slow 

I never needed a home 

I always thought I’d be a rolling stone 

 

And I always thought love was just a scheme 

For ego and comfort and self-esteem 

I always thought I’d be content being free 

I always thought I’d be content being free 

 

The more I’ve come to know 

The more I’ve come to know  

 

The more I’ve come to know you 

The less I’ve felt I owed you 

So I left my bed on the ocean floor 

And to my great surprise  

As I washed up in the night 

Your tides they led to the shore 

And that’s how the stone found home 

I always thought I’d be a rolling stone 

 

And I always thought love would come slow 

I never needed a home 

I always thought I’d be a rolling stone 

 

And I always thought love was just a scheme 

For ego and comfort and self-esteem 

I always thought I’d be content being free 

I always thought I’d be content being free 

 

And I always thought love was just a bind 

A willing ensnarement of body and mind 

I never hoped it would be you by my side 

I never thought that I’d find you in time 

 

To Orkney 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

Around this time I took a trip to Orkney with my Dad 

We drove the long way to the ferry,all the way to Scrabster through the black isle 

We sings songs and tell stories of the places we pass by 

And we are dwarfed by the mountains that frame our view of Scotland through a cracked windscreen 

On our last morning on the island, we took a drive through the wild Orchadian landscape 

The rain was lashing against the car and it was almost funny how dreich the day was 

We talk freely in the way that you can when you are both facing away from each other 

The impacts of the years of right-wing governance 

Under-funded foodbanks 

The destruction of the earth’s wild places for profits sake 

The devastations of war and prejudice 

And how disconnected I feel from all these issues day to day 

Distracted into inaction by the dazzling lights of my mobile phone 

 

Dad sings the Worker’s Song 

A folk song about the plight of the working people 

Written by Ed Pickford from County Durham 

And I listen 

 

The Worker’s Song

[ A slightly shortened version of Ed Pickford’s influential song]

 

Come all of you workers 

Who toil night and day 

By hand and by brain 

To earn your pay 

Who for centuries long past 

For no more than your bread 

Have bled for your country 

And counted your dead. 

 

In the factories and mills 

In the shipyards and mines 

You’ve often been told 

Keep up with the times 

Your skills are not needed 

They’ve streamlined the job 

With slide rule and stopwatch 

Your pride they have robbed. 

 

But when the sky darkens 

And the prospect is war 

Who’s given a gun 

And then pushed to the fore? 

And expected to die 

For the land of his birth 

When he’s never owned   

One handful of earth. 

 

 

By Process of Folkmosis 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

In a moment the power of Ed’s words 

And that melody rips me from some teenage need to be free 

Free from old songs, and indoctrinations 

This life I designed so far from the tree 

Its roots just arent so deep 

I need handfuls of earth 

And pies in the sky 

And by a process of folkmosis I ask myself why 

Why wont you sing? If not you, not us, then who? 

 

So I will sing of the guisin’ when bairnies blether to the auld yins 

And I will sing of the greylag who tak their leave when the leaves turn 

And i will sing in oor language that I love my sisters in 

That I tell my story in 

 

I am bound 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

I am bound 

I am bound 

To this land 

To this place 

To my home 

I was bound to wander 

I was bound 

I was bound to wander 

Far from this land  

Far from this place 

From my home 

 

I was lost and found 

I was lost and found 

When I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

When I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

When I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

When I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

 

I am bound 

I am bound 

I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

I heard those familiar 

Heard those familial voices 

 

I am bound  

 

I am bound 

I am bound  

To this land 

To this place 

To my home 

 

I am bound 

 

Come Gies a Sang

[Written by Dick Gaughan]

“Come gie’s a sang”, thae asked the poet
(Owre the water, cross the muir
“Tell our joys an tell our woes”)
The linnet sings sae bonnie-o
The poet waved his pen aloft
“My art’s too great for the common trough”
“What fame is there for one like me
Reciting poor folks’ history?”
“There’s precious little wealth or glory
In telling common peoples’ story”
The people turned untae thair ain
Tae sing thair passion an thair pain
“Come gie’s a sang”, they asked the makar
“Tell our story wi your craft”
The makar traivelled through the land
Pentlan Firth tae Solway strand
Through the Lawlans an the Hielans
Frae the Border tae the Northern Isles
He’s gaen frae Stornoway tae Brechin
Listenin tae the people speak
He listened as the day wis dawin
Eagle’s cry an houdie’s caw
He heard the roar o ragin seas
Branches whisperin in the breeze
He heard the weepin widow mournin
The crack o broadsword cleavin bone
Heard the shipyard haimmer ringin
The lilt o playin children sing
The wind it blew frae aa the airts
Bringin tunes frae ither pairts
He’s taken every sound he heard
Crafted thaim tae makar’s words
The poet’s work lies in a book
Whaur naebody but scholars look
But still the makar’s sang is sung
His words are pairt o everyone 

The poet’s work lies in a book
Whaur naebody but scholars look
But still the makar’s sang is sung
His words are pairt o everyone 

 

The Mountain 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm] 

When I dream of the Mountains 

I yearn to breathe 

I was born in the mountains 

I was born among trees 

When I speak of the mountains 

I yearn to roam free 

I was torn from the mountains 

From the yows and golden fields 

 

When I walk to the mountains 

I follow the carrying stream 

 

Oooh 

 

When I die in the mountains 

I will die among trees 

When I die in the mountains 

I will live on a breeze 

 

 

End of the beginning 

[Lyrics: Beth Malcolm]

So there ends this story 

Of how this lost bairn came to be 

Here I stand now, 27 

I am rooted, and I am free 

Maybe freedom is belonging 

And like the graylag Geese each Autumn 

We are all bound to roam 

 

But we carry with us, messages of joys and woe 

From the fields we grew from 

Sung a thousand times before 

 

By a process of Folkmosis 

They seeped in as bairns 

And became part of us 

 

When I sing them alone 

Or aloud to you 

I feel known 

For the songs and sounds of Scotland will always bring me home