VITALE SPRETIS

Vitale Spretis - Alan McLeod

The vital spirits of life.  In his Works, Sir David Lindsay (1490-1555) wrote, “amang the flowris fresche, fragrant, and formose; my vitale spretis dewlie did reiose.

© McLeod, Brora, 2019

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Album Lyrics

EYE OF THE STORM

I sit on the shore boys singing the songs,

the songs of our land boys where we were born;

then calls the Captain, “you’d better come on,

take hold of the tiller, we’re bound for a storm.”

Til the day that you die boys from the day you were born

When life starts to calm boys: you’re in the Eye of the Storm.

Bound for a storm boys perfect and strong,

beautiful too boys with the breaking of dawn.

The Captain calls “Mercy” when the spinnaker’s torn.

Hold fast tae the riggin’: life is a storm.

Til the day that we die boys from the day we were born

Our life starts to calm boys: in the Eye of the Storm.

Life is a storm boys, the calm is the eye,

you’re a fool if you think boys, yea never will die,

fated tae suffer, the heart’s made to mourn

don’t forget if it’s easy, yer in the Eye o’ the Storm

Til the day that we die … from the day we were born

Don’t long for the calm: … tis the Eye of the Storm.

 

HAUNTED

Haunted by the notes you write

Driving through your traffic lights

Banging my head against your Wall

I don’t understand at all

What it means to be haunted

Catch a cab to Churchill Park

Where you came and broke my heart

And I think about you still

When I leave for Gypsy Hill

Disturbed to be haunted (x2)

Haunted by the words you say

Haunted by you every day

Haunted by you in every way

Haunted since you went away (Since you went away)

We’re haunted

Watching sunsets in Dunvegan

Do they rise in Copenhagen?

When we’re tripping over we fall

We don’t understand at all

What it means to be haunted

We don’t understand at all

What it means to be haunted

 

Monument

You said we’d be fine, sitting in Timespan drinking wine

When high above, the river bank, stood the Monument

Monument, to The Clearances, of Sutherland

I don’t understand, what is “Home”

Home is where the heart is

Home is where your God is

Home ain’t where they lay you to rest

In the unmarked graves

Of Highland Heroes

Who went to North America

They said they’d be fine, praying in the Church to a God in Clyne

When up on the Ben, they built, a Monument

Monument, to Progress, in Sutherland

No-one understands, what is “Home”

Home is where the heart is

Home is where your God is

Home is where you take your rest

From the torment

Of endless Progress

“Home” is your Monument

 

Heart of Stone

You used to have friends when the going was smooth

Easy to be kind when lying’s your Truth

When the going gets tough; your backs against the wall

Sitting with your gin & lemon aching for a call

All alone; all alone

You gotta work out why – you don’t belong

All alone; all alone

Gotta cry on your own to melt your Heart of Stone.

Winter was a bitter time: ice for tears

Summer: an illusion – you wasted all the years

Autumn can be beautiful – life’s blood-red

Spring has hope – that’s what your lovers said

All alone; all alone

You gotta work out why – you don’t belong

All alone; all alone

Gotta cry on your own to melt the Heart of Stone.

Reprise:

Life is somewhat lonely cos we always die alone

Lovin’ men and lovin’ women – can melt the Heart of Stone