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Album: Tears Began To Bleed

Recorded early 2007
Producer/Engineer: John Butterworth
Studio: The Lodge, Rochdale
Cover Design: Malcolm Journeaux

Tears Began To Bleed CD Cover

Tears Began To Bleed

Key:
Written in Em
Recorded in Am

 

Lyrics

Hear it in my voice
Lips they may en-trance
Eyes may pierce your soul
Heart won't take the chance
Do not understand
Why you cannot love me
Why you just don't see
Rejection hurts me badly

Nothing seems to matter
Clear I don't to you!
Nothing seems to matter
Treat me like you do
If I can give you love
Can't it come from you?
If I can give you love
Can't you love me too?

You say you think of me
In a nothing sort of way
Just a last resort
A muse with which to play
Needed so much more
Than a bit of idle chat
To you I'm just no one
Treated like a rat!

Gave you all I've got
Still you never notice
So humiliated
Leave me so emotive
Realised this time
Cold to what I need
Tell you how that hurt
My tears began to bleed

Amy Hannan - Vocals
John Butterworth - Guitar
Tom Szakaly - Keyboards
Malcolm Journeaux - Bass
Pete Smith - Drums
Lyrics/Music: Malcolm Journeaux
Copyright © Malcolm Journeaux

Crying Tears

Key: Em

 

Lyrics

Raced and chased so he could taste
Eastern spice with Western vice
Juices flowed, the honey sweet
Exotic dish, erotic treat

I’ve got tears,
Crying tears...
Of regret

Played with fire called desire
Closed his mind, lust is blind
Naked curves, the attraction
Expectation; satisfaction

I’ve got tears,
Crying tears...
Of regret

Shared his bed with her instead
Truth denied such stupid pride
Emotion raw; desecrated
Left her so humiliated

I’ve got tears,
Crying tears...
Of regret

Scream and shout just get out
Blazing row, cried leave me now
Pitch black dark, in my heart
Packed his bags, told him depart

I’ve got tears,
Crying tears...
Of regret

I’ve got tears,
Crying tears...
Of regret

Of regret

Amy Hannan - Vocals
John Butterworth - Guitar
Tom Szakaly - Keyboards
Malcolm Journeaux - Bass
Pete Smith - Drums
Lyrics/Music: Malcolm Journeaux
Copyright © Malcolm Journeaux

Paranoia

Key: E

 

Lyrics

Demons come, demons go
'Specially when he's on the blow
Poison pills, smack head treats
Uppers, downers, coloured sweets!

Chased the dragon, paid the price
Sectioned for destructive vice
Lost his grip on reality
Paranoia, via LSD!

Powder snorted, nose distorted
Chemical gain, fried the brain
Broken veins, in heroin chains
Turmoil, strife, restricted life

White-knuckle ride, vicious rip tide
Blood, sweat, tears, psychedelic fears
DTs trigger, shakes and rigor
Hallucinations, exploding bigger

Violent mood swing, scorpion tail sting
Physical, mental, nothing gentle
Laced up jacket, screaming racket
Excoriation in isolation

Amy Hannan - Vocals
John Butterworth - Guitar
Tom Szakaly - Keyboards
Malcolm Journeaux - Bass
Pete Smith - Drums
Lyrics/Music: Malcolm Journeaux
Copyright © Malcolm Journeaux

Yes Baby

Key: Am

 

Lyrics

Special mix, of black and white
A real delight
What you want, she got it baby
Yes, just maybe!

Yes baby, no baby, sure baby
Please don’t make her cry baby
Promise you're gonna try baby
Yes, no, sure...

Born to blues, she got soul
That’s her role
Rhythm n blues, her peace of mind
A special kind

Got no doubt, she ain’t shy
Don't make her cry
Singin’ baby, that’s her hit
She won't quit

Ain’t no lie, without her voice
Is no choice
It means all, to her you see
Singing free

Amy Hannan - Vocals
John Butterworth - Guitar
Tom Szakaly - Keyboards
Malcolm Journeaux - Bass
Pete Smith - Drums
Lyrics/Music: Malcolm Journeaux
Copyright © Malcolm Journeaux

Album review by music reviewer Duncan Rigby

Tears Begin to Bleed
Texan Rock N’ Blues out of Rochdale UNBELIEVEABLE! Personally I’d lower the Hammond in the mix and bring in a slide guitar just to accentuate the phrasing and megaphone the lead vocals, but hey less about all that. One listen, and it's two hours later now, and I can still hear it.

Crying Tears
Samba-esque and Funk-a-delic, (paraphrasing Pete Murray, Pop Pickers), this track is out of time, don’t get me wrong, not musically, a time slip, this is class classic hot nights in Miami in ’79, captured and toned in the funky soul delivery which got my feet shuffling. This track is not a fashionable retrospective modern rework of a style but a genuine embodiment of the mood of that time. Nice.

Paranoia
I was waiting for the musical theatrical menace in this track to come out from behind the hill and get me, given it’s title and description, but my analysis got sidetracked by the lyrics. Firstly by the strong vocal and secondly the actual words instantly painted a mindscape. Second verse I was singing the chorus, and that only happens to me on truly anthemic songs - “Poison Pills, Smack Head Treats, Uppers Downers, Coloured Sweets”.