Bring Back Home

by Ange Hardy

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4sunkamanitu
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4sunkamanitu such wounderfull music I sent it on to 8 others to enjoy!!
Anita Botman
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Anita Botman This album feels indeed like coming home. It's cosy, yet full of adventure. There is a sweetness to this music, but it's definately not without strength. Step into the wonderful world Ange Hardy creates and keep walking, you are in for a treat!
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Limited Edition CD in digipack with gold foil, embossing and 28 page booklet

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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 11 Ange Hardy releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of My Christmas EP, Bring Back Home, The Quantock Carol & Mary's Robin, Findings, Windmills and Wishes, Bare Foot Folk, By The Tides, The Little Holly Tree, and 3 more. , and , .

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1.
Let the girls run into the woods and climb the tallest tree, for the ivy and the climbing vine shall bring you to your knees. My roots they hold this hill together entwined in soil and sod, wound between the gorse and heather and bound to stone and rock. Young Mary she had children three of white and black and green. One was good and one was bad and one had woes unseen. Her youngest she was sweet and good, as pretty as a pearl. The second had a blackened heart, nasty little girl. The third she had no heart at all just emptiness within, she swore one day she’d find a way to steal one from her kin. Young Mary she was pure and wise, loved her children three. She knew she had to take a life to stop her daughter green. She took her to the farmer’s land and on the blackest night she gave to her a final kiss, held her daughter tight. She tied her to the old oak tree and left her there to die. But the old oak tree it opened up and swallowed her alive. It was for a while all well, and calm had settled on their lives. But the eldest of the two would on her mother’s doting thrive, she wished her sister dead and in an instant was compelled to take her sisters life and have her mother to herself. So the two of them together left and to the woods did go, but when they did arrive the eldest hung her with a rope. She hung her sister from the tallest tree of solid oak, but before she could come down again the branch beneath them broke. And as both sisters fell quite dead and lifeless by the tree it opened up and drew them in, let the young girl free. She cut out half the blackened heart and half the heart of white. She went back to her mother’s home and there lived out her life. Let the girls run into the woods and climb the tallest tree, for the ivy and the climbing vine shall bring you to your knees. My roots they hold this hill together entwined in soil and sod, wound between the gorse and heather and bound to stone and rock
2.
Harsh are the winters, the evenings have drawn in. Home it is cold and my working day’s gone. Long are the hours for coming and going, home it is empty my patience is done. Once I was a summertime, past time, long ago. Once I was a summertime, once I was a rose. And slow are the winter days sitting and waiting. Fast were the finer days when I was young. Loud is the time piece my grandfather gave me, and I too like him one day soon will be gone. Grown are my little ones, constant and working. Far are their homes from the place I am now. I was a daughter once, living and growing, and wishing my days past, I wish I’d slowed down. Once I was a summertime, past time, long ago. Once I was a summertime, once I was a rose.
3.
Four and twenty sailors hauled away the bonny bay, away the bonny bay and to the vast and rolling sea. Four and twenty sailors hauled away the bonny bay, all to fetch a find to bring back home. Bring back home! Oh Johnny said to wait for me, he said that he’d not leave me on my own. Bring back home! Too many tides have come and been, too many ships without him come and gone. Bring back home! Oh when will you come back to me? Oh Johnny will I always be alone? Bring back home. Four and twenty sailors bound all o’er the briny sea, all o’er the briny sea for more than 20,000 leagues. Four and twenty sailors bound all o’er the briny sea, all to fetch a find to bring back home. And four and twenty sailors heard a ringing of the bell, a ringing of the bell and the boatswain’s call to flee. Four and twenty sailors heard a ringing of the bell, all to fetch a find to bring back home. Four and twenty sailors drowned beneath the blackened sway, beneath the blackened sway now all are lost unto the sea. Four and twenty sailors drowned beneath the blackened sway, all to fetch a find to bring back home. Bring back home! Oh Johnny said to wait for me, he said that he’d not leave me on my own. Bring back home! Too many tides have come and been, too many ships without him come and gone. Bring back home! Oh when will you come back to me? Oh Johnny will I always be alone? Bring back home.
4.
04:00
Oh the yew tree stands on sacred grounds by the wall that circles those in peace. And beneath the tree by the stones and leaves stands a wild boar before the priest. I will rest my bones by the seven seas, oh and for my cloak will a vessel be. And by the well upon my hill I will pray for all before my feet. I will bore a cow by my cloak so fine, oh and how the milk it shall be my wine. And pray I will upon my hill for the coming of a Christian time. It was by a Dane, by a sharpened blade, in a single stroke took away my head. And away it fell upon my hill, now I am to fetch it back again. I will, to my well and the waters deep, pray unto my God for my soul to keep. And there I will upon my hill see my head onto my shoulders meet. And the people see how the milk and wine, oh it shall not run from the wounds of mine... and pray they will upon my hill for the coming of a Christian time
5.
I am the hunter that hunted the prey, run away, run away! I am the hunter that hunted the prey. Now her spell does bind me. For many a year I have waited in fear by the tree of my mother who changed me. From fighting and fears with gun and with spears to the shape of the young hare that claimed me. Now I must run and hide from the guns in the hope that the hunter won’t find me. But when I’d begun I was mighty and young, I’d none but the strong wind behind me. My blood it is thick and my heart it is quick and the life of a hunter defines me. For now I must sit with the wood and the stick and the hoping the forest will hide me. I trod the land and chased the hare down it was here that my mother did take me. My head to the ground for to hide from the hound, my mother a hare she did make me. So what had become of the man and his gun who had sworn in a shot he would slay me? What of my son who aims as I run, how the tables have turned to betray me. And then comes the shot, I fall to my lot and the spell of my mother it leaves me. I was the hunter that hunted the prey, now how my boy is to grieve me.
6.
How the buttercup does smile when the day’s begun, she welcomes in the morning new and turns toward the sun. And when we find her in full bloom all in the month of May, we know that all shall join her soon all on a summer’s day. Smile for the sun does shine and June shall find her way, and know that all shall join her soon all on a summer’s day. And how the little bird does sing it’s morning chorus song, sat upon the tallest tree she welcomes in the dawn. And when we find her in good voice, all in the month of May, we know that all shall join her soon all on a summer’s day. And how the baby lambs have grown and with their mothers run. How they leap and sport and play all in the morning sun. And when we find them fine and free, all in the month of May, we know that all shall join them soon all on a Summer’s day.
7.
As I walked out one morning all in the month of May. Down through some flower gardens I carelessly did stray. I overheard a damsel in sorrow to complain, all for her absent lover who ploughs the raging main. I stepped up to my lover, put her in surprise, I know she didn’t know me, I being dressed in disguise. Said I “my lovely maiden, my joy my hearts delight, how far are you to wander this dark and dreary night?” “All the way kind sir to Claudy, if you will please to show, pity a poor girl distracted it’s their I have to go. I’m in search of a faithless young man, Johnny is his name, and on the banks of Claudy I’m told he does remain. If my young Johnny were here this night he’d keep me from all harm but he’s in the field of battle all in his uniform. He’s in the field of battle, his foes he will destroy… like a roving king of honour he’s fought on the banks of Troy!” “It’s been six months and better since your Johnny left the shore he’s cruising the wild ocean where foaming billows roar. He’s cruising the wild ocean for honour and gain… the ship's been wrecked as I am told all on the coast of Spain…” As soon as she heard him say so she fell into deep despair. By the wringing of her milk white hands, the tearing of her hair. “If Johnny he be drownded, no man on Earth I’ll take, but through lonesome groves and villages I’ll wander for his sake” As soon as he heard her say so he could no longer stand. He fell into her arms saying “Bessy, I’m your man! I am that faithless young man whom you had thought was slain. And since we’ve met on the Claudy banks we’ll never part again.”
8.
9.
I cannot get to my love if I were to die for the waters of Tyne run between her and I. And here I must stand with a tear in my eye, both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see. Oh where is the boatman my bonny hinny? Where is the boatman? Bring him to me. To ferry me over the Tyne to my hinny, and I will remember the boatman and thee. Oh bring me the boatman and I’ll give you money. And for your trouble rewarded shall be. To ferry me over the Tyne to my hinny. Oh scull her across the rough river to me. I cannot get to my love if I were to die for the waters of Tyne run between her and I. And here I must stand with a tear in my eye both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see.
10.
03:28
When I did go to the home of John. A working man now married long. To be a maiden to his wife, I set my eye to the finer life. Oh he was tall, he was fine, I set my mind to take thee. Oh John dear John do listen well. For this to you I now must tell. As I went in, your child to feed, I saw your wife by the willow tree and there she lay on silken sheets while I did hold your baby. She was not there alone to lie… there was another by her side, and as I set about my chores she gave to him all that was yours and rode away on the dappled horse and left me here to brave thee. Oh John dear John do hear my plea. For she has gone and you are free. She left her husband and her babe, knowing that his heart would break and all the while I kept him safe. I pray that you’ll believe me. You must be sure and tell me true. If this is real what shall I do? Young girl, young girl he said to I, You’ll not do well to tell me lies for when you come to the Devil’s side ‘twill be too late to save thee. Oh John dear John I’d not deceive. Upon my shoulder you may grieve. And lay with me your second wife until the devil takes my life… for I know where her body lies and you’ll not know I betrayed thee…
11.
There are no words for a girl like her. No box to fit this child in. There are no labels to discern. No books can know her heart within. And as we try to understand, she keeps with her a thickened skin. The days they deal a hardened hand but through it all her smile wins. She’ll rise up singing in the morning sun. Seize the day with a smile and song. None will deter and none will harm, she’ll rise up singing in the morning sun. There are no words for a girl like her. No one can tell which way is right. There are no lessons we can learn to give to her this will to fight. And as we try to understand she keeps with her a strength in song. The world to her is a foreign land, but through it all her heart is strong. There are no words for a girl like her. No box to fit this child in. And through it all I hope to learn from all the joy her kindness brings. And as we try to understand, I find a comfort in her ways. The world will try to pull us down. We should from her a lesson take.
12.
Christmas is near and we’re just about managing, able to get through the day. What comes in we pay out and most months a bail out is needed to make our own way. The overdraft’s heavy, the fridge isn’t empty but Christmas… oh God just the thought! The turkey alone would be more than our savings, but at least we own all that we’ve got. What may you do for the JAM? The just about managing labouring man. The hard working families who live by the day on a handful of hand downs and minimum wage. The should be retirees, born the wrong year, with no choice but work ‘till their body’s fall weary and just about managing turns into fear. What may you do for the JAM? And so I play mum with the small ones unknowing, their ignorance blissfully clear. And secretly breaking I carry on making a home full of Christmassy cheer. I hope in their days they will see some equality, not have to fight for their hand. May they have security, love and respect for the hard working labouring man. And thank God when mother, who just about manages, calls us to share Christmas day. Oh how will we cope when she’s no longer with us, a thought I can’t bear to convey. My point is the only rock left here to build on is that of a world which has hope. May all those in power see all our diversity and do what is right for our vote. What may you do for the JAM? The just about managing labouring man. The hard working families who live by the day on a handful of hand downs and minimum wage. The should be retirees, born the wrong year, with no choice but work ‘till their body’s fall weary and just about managing turns into fear. What may you do for the JAM?
13.
Find for me my roving boots, find for me my gown. Call for me my gallant horse and tie the tether down. Fetch for me my roaming lamp, purse of pence and pound. The time has come to take my gun, chase the devil down. Chase the devil down my dear. Chase the devil down. Time has come to take my gun and chase the devil down. Take for me my children three and take for me my crown. Make for me my travelling bag of the finest hide and down. Bring to me my shield and sword and let the bugle sound. All to feed this fight to free this heart of high renown. Heart of high renown my dear, heart of high renown. All to feed this fight to free this heart of high renown. And the damage done by the hand the devil holds on me had all but won, for I fell in with the enemy, but I will ride and bring back home a heart of blood and not of stone. A heart of blood not stone. So wait for me my constant love. Wait for me my sons. Hold for me a patient frame until my deed is done. Be for me a steady hand ‘til homeward I am bound, ‘til I have been to fight the fiend and chased the devil down. The damage done by the hand the devil holds on me had all but won, for I fell in with the enemy, but I will ride and bring back home a heart of blood and not of stone. A heart of blood not stone.
14.
03:34
Let it be what it is for the grieving is more than the time that you have, and coming is more for the leaving. It is more to have love than to have. Whatever may be make it welcome, whatever may go let it pass. For time it is precious, and seldom will your time be well spent on the past. It’s all in a day my dear. For time it is all that I shall fear. When the world has left you cold, take time, be bold. It’s all in a day my friend, for tomorrow is yesterday’s end. When all you have worked for it is gone. Take time, be strong. So let it be what it is for the grieving is more than the time that you have, and coming is more for the leaving. It is more to have love than to have. Whatever may be make it welcome, whatever may go let it pass. For time it is precious, and seldom will your time be well spent on the past.

about

“Bring Back Home” is my sixth studio album, and it marks a pivotal point for me. It many ways it closes a loop that began with Bare Foot Folk. This is the first album since “Windmills and Wishes” where I’ve had no agenda other than simply wanting to record the songs that have happened when I’ve sat at the kitchen table. It’s the first album where I’ve had no boxes to tick.

It features Ange Hardy (vocals, harp, guitar, whistle, songwriting, arrangement, producer), Peter Knight (fiddle, backing vocals), Lukas Drinkwater (bass, guitar, backing vocals), Evan Carson (percussion), Alex Cumming (Accordion), Jon Dyer (flute, whistle) and Lee Cuff (cello, backing vocals).

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released November 28, 2017

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Ange Hardy England, UK

Nominated for the Horizon Award for best emerging talent at the 2015 BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards, Ange Hardy is a folk singer, songwriter and recording artist from West Somerset, England. Ange performs original contemporary songs written in a traditional style with an emphasis on vocal harmony. ... more

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