Boats

Dig
In these last days, the colours pale
You look for sources, dip the pail
In the well
But Only droplets 
Not enough to quench a thirst
Not enough for a first line
Or jumping off point
But none of that’s the point
You listen and read to steal and not to love
You wait and watch the sky above
But nothing turns that tap back on
And on and on, again you miss the point
				
Write something, you fraud
You worthless hump!
Let your screed sully paper
Spill yourself
Leave the page all soul-stained
Don’t you see the whys and whats are neither here nor there
But everywhere? and art,
It’s not a voice from some burning bush
The well never dries up, not really
Press your foot, cut through and push
But still, you never seem to twig
That all you have to do is dig

It’s in the city’s pulse, its hum 
Plastered across walls and lampposts 
In murals and micro-messaging, and flags,
So many flags
And in the reverb tail of bombs 

It’s in the barbed-wire wisdom and wit
Patterns of speech, idiosyncratic syntax
Grammar school systems, 
social split after social split 
After social split

It’s in the river, the bridges, and the lifeboats
Or driving past village shops beyond the city limits
Toward curving hills and barren fields out to the coast
In the mass rock signs
And in The Church’s heinous crimes



It’s in the banners and demands to address
The Mica mess – 
they bailed the banks out
But won’t help the people?
100% redress, 
And not a penny less!

It’s in the bricks and mortar of who you are
The frustration, the pride, the privilege, flaws, self-doubt,
It’s in your cúpla focal, a work in progress
Use it or lose it and make the most
Of these days and practice on the signposts
Dig
Dig
Tuigim 

It’s in the people that you know and love
And don’t
It’s in the touches and in the tones
In the loneliness that seeps into your bones
In the frictions, and the swelling of the heart
The art
Lives in the jag and smoke of memory
The gasp and choke of burning hope
Not from some Pentecostal dove
But in the ebb and flow of love
Dig
Dig
Tuigim

We are chemicals

Song With No Name

Everyone's Unique Except You

Empire

Tuar Na hAimsire

Tides

Who By Fire (Leonard Cohen Cover)

One Spin of the Wheel

Bridges of ice
Bridges of stone
Bridges of rope
Bridges of hope
Bridges of bone

Rivers of muck
Rivers of lies
Rivers of gold
Rivers of souls
Oceans to cry
 
I think we are one
Spin of the wheel away 
I think we are one
I cannot feel my way

Rivers of snakes
Bridges to spurn
Rivers of tears
Rivers of fear
Bridges to burn

Rivers of time
Mountains to climb
Bridges of rust
Mountains of dust
Oceans of crime

I think we are one
Spin of the wheel away 
I think we are one
I cannot feel my way

One Spin Of The Wheel

Disgrace

I followed the trail, I followed the little lights
In an otherwise dark and murky place
I couldn’t find vantage, I couldn’t find sight
And you couldn’t find grace

When you’re cast adrift, 
You see why fishermen don’t learn to swim
The grace is in giving in
But in dimming light, with fire to fight
The grace is your kin

Sure as rock, sure as bone
Trust me, trust me
Sure as land, sure as sky, sure as sea
Sure as blood and the unknown
Oh trust me, I trust you
With me

I’ve been thinking about the Ides of March
I’ve been thinking about that onward relentless march
I’ve been thinking about making peace with the sky
But I’m thinking of passing that by

Sure as rock, sure as bone
Trust me, trust me
Sure as land, sure as sky, sure as sea
Sure as blood and the unknown
Trust me, I trust you
With me

Disgrace

Love Is
Love is not screamed 
From rafters or mountain-tops
Does not echo from the heavens
Or burn bright like the sun;

Is not a stage show
Or a song
Or a poem 
Or clever rhyme;

Love is not dainty
Or elegant 
Or eloquent
Or fragile;

Love is not shop-bought
Dropped jaws
Fluttered heart
Or butterfly gut;

Love is not narrow but vast –
Big and bold
Cumbersome and blundersome
And mostly silent

Love Is (Feat. Paddy Nash)

Veneer
Here
There is only darkness for you here
Steer clear
This is but a thin veneer
But we’re so mired in these things
Sick and tired of these things
If I believed such things
I’d swear you’re growing wings

So sleep
For we are only flickering light
Release
We are only waiting to take flight
Oh, sweet bird
Sweetest one 
Dearest of kings
I swear you’re growing wings

Me: vocals, acoustic and electric guitar, keys
Paul Casey: bass, electric guitar
Liam Bradley: drums, percussion
John McCullough: Wurlitzer, keys

Veneer

Derry/Donegal indie collective.
Every Architect of Ruin is out now.

"Beautiful" - Tom Dunne (Newstalk)

"quite beautiful" - Cathal Murray, Late Date RTE Radio 1

“Such a wonderful song...already very fond of that” – Gideon Coe, BBC 6 Music

"I was transfixed" - Kate Brennan-Harding, 2FM

"songs that blend together like a book of poetry." - Chordblossom

"genius songwriter" - Stephen McCauley, BBC Radio Ulster

"I was just so struck by its beauty" - The Arts Show, BBC

“Everything they do is brilliant” – Fenne Lily, Islington Radio

We Are Aerials

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