Heritage EP

by Stu Daly

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about

This is Stu Daly's debut EP released in May 2013 by Toast Office Records. You can download it for what ever price you want . It is also available via iTunes, Spotify & Tunecore and physically from studaly [dot] bigcartel [dot] com

credits

released April 20, 2013

Stu Daly - Vocals, Guitars, Double Bass, Mandolin, Mandolin-Banjo & Harmonica
Sam Fitzpatrick - Piano
Simon King - Drums
Sharon Courtney - Violin
Emma O'Reilly - Backing Vocals

Artwork - Reuben Teskey
Design - Niall Earle

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about

Stu Daly Dublin, Ireland

Meandering folk songs. May or may not mention my hatred of public transport.

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Track Name: The Landing Light
As the world gets darker our sights float upwards.
But moonlight will not save you from unbearable truth.
We’re spinning tops out in the night, we kiss by lamp light.
Cobblestones will chip your teeth as we stumble down the street.

But as long as a light is up the back of the stairs,
I don’t mind the rain and the midnight air,
As I fall homewards.

My house is in the distance. Oh feet, don’t fail me.
‘Cause some days you wouldn’t believe, I wear a face like concrete.
I reach my door, turn the key lightly. That light still blinds me.
I wave the ghosts out of my way and fall down for one more day.

But as long as a light is up the back of the stairs,
I don’t mind the rain and the midnight air,
As I fall homewards.
Track Name: Plaster of Paris
Army boy of eighteen calls himself a man.
Walks to a café on the banks of La Seine where he sits every day.
Her shift starts at eight. He orders the same thing and waits.
Oh, you know? There’s something I must tell you if you understand my tongue.
I came for the work, I came for the lights and now I must leave with love.

I can’t promise you a good life. She said “Oh, that changes every day. But I’ll grow old alongside you anyway.”

When you’re young, young at heart, you swear you’re made of brick.
The older you get you’ll see it’s plaster of Paris.
Oh it crumbles and breaks and your fingers start to ache every day.
I don’t even want to know.

A man of sixty wishes he was a boy.
Braces to wind down at his Crumlin Road home where he sits every day.
Her shift ends at eight. He reads his newspaper and waits.
Oh, he remembers, she dances through the hard times. He knew that she wouldn’t wane.
Hand in hand fell through the decades. She still recalls him saying

“I can’t promise you a good life.” She said “Oh, that changes every day. But I’ll grow old alongside you anyway.”

When you’re young, young at heart, you swear you’re made of brick.
The older you get you’ll see it’s plaster of Paris.
Oh it crumbles and breaks and your fingers start to ache. You’ll stumble and quake at the sound your body makes every day.
I don’t even want to know.
Track Name: Lifers
I’m trying to rebuild normality.
I tried so hard but all I can see is I’m just a young man doing the best that I can.

And so it turns out that no-one’s impressed by the holes this world left in your chest.
I’m just a young man doing the best that I can.

We’re chasing an Irish remake of an American dream.
You’d swear that you could taste it from how real it seems.
I wake up and I walk home. I don’t know what it means.
But it changes through every pair of eyes I see.

Define the world that you want to live it.
Measure it against the person that you’ve been but I’m just a young man doing the best that I can.
And when I walk on , I’m as good as gone. If I wander on I’ll be leaving everything behind.

We’re chasing an Irish remake of an American dream.
You’d swear that you could taste it from how real it seems.
I wake up and I walk home. I don’t know what it means.
But it changes through every pair of eyes I see.
Track Name: Museum
Head first into the night, trying to outrun daylight.
Swinging my fists impatiently, eyes clenched so tight.
Chip your teeth on the ground, crack your head on a wall.
These are dramatic baby steps towards learning to fall.

I would never believe that I’d be the kind of man to hide his head in the sand.

Then a cold rain falls in the Summer. I can’t take another one like this.

When did the world become a museum? So sterile and untouched, but beautiful.
And will I see just where I stand? Am I clawing so hard to an empty aesthetic?
Does that make me pathetic? Does that make me anything at all?

I’ll never believe I could be the kind of man to hide my head in the sand.

Then a cold rain falls in the Summer. I can’t take another one like this.
They say only fools try to outrun daylight. But I’ll try, try, try as I like.
Track Name: Heirlooms
When I can’t see the future, I look to the past.
It’s mostly gold-plated, hid in shards of glass.
But you have to be careful, you can’t go home again.
The world lies between us, is it just in my head?

But now you’ve got me singing:
Love, some days I don’t want to try. I’ve ripped those years out of my life,
Years I’m too proud to give up.

You can slip into darkness, the home of your doubt.
The most basic choices can make you black out.
You find yourself choking on earth’s history.
You’re collecting heirlooms thrown up by the sea.

But now you’ve got me singing:
Love, some days I don’t want to try. I’ve ripped those years out of my life,
Years I’m too proud to give up.

Hope, I inherited hope and the means for a better life.

Love, some days I don’t want to try. I’ve ripped those years out of my life,
Years I’m too proud to give up.