Get all 6 Heather Aubrey Lloyd releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of My Kinda Quarantiner, Are You Lost? (quarantine demo), The Lucky Ones, Mess Countdown Podcast, A Message in the Mess, and Samples.
1. |
Caliber
04:32
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Hello, my name is: Third School in Three Years.
Shuffled around where there's money to spare.
New list of classes, new list of names.
So much that's different, so much the same.
When did I begin studying all the latches - Could I open them
if my hands were shaking? That one painted shut ...
Cataloging all the places a child might fit.
Five doors to the exit. Thirty feet to the ground.
One flight to the roof. Better up? Better down?
Decide in advance, if you're stuck on the staircase.
How much time could I buy them if I ran out waving?
I hate it -
The space it takes up in my mind,
when I signed up to raise
the caliber
of minds.
So much time drilling all of the calculations
I hope they never know all my preparations,
how I quiz myself daily,
that they think it's just lessons,
textbooks from Texas, Civil War, Smith and Wesson,
ancient history, irrelevant mathematics.
So ashamed to have been monkeys - so willing to be statistics.
Keep them safe while I get them the basics:
Reading, Writing, 'Rithmetic and Shelter in Place.
I hate it -
The space it takes up in my mind,
when I signed up to raise
the caliber of their minds.
Caliber:
the measurement of character
or the barrel of a gun.
Isn't language fun?
And the ones who are listening,
they think I know everything.
I'll make no hollow points here,
don't know what laws we should be passing,
don't need no degree from Princeton
for what to do about our children.
The trigger end's a person, hurt and scared and sad,
who could've been taught to talk or run or sing when they're mad.
Who needed comfort, a teacher, a parent.
a breath, a moment, before
there's no coming back...
I'd rather hold you than your bullet,
And so would everybody here.
And if they don't, I'll try to teach them
how to love instead of fear.
I'd rather hold you than your bullet.
You can take up this space in my mind.
'Cause I signed up to raise
the caliber of lives.
Caliber:
the measurement of character
or the barrel of a gun.
isn't language fun?
and the ones who are listening,
they think they know everything.
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2. |
The Stove
02:28
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If there's a God, I may be damned,
but I like talking to God
and he may not like the way I am,
but I won't know before I'm done
Sometimes I hope there is no god,
though it means I cry to just the air
like the girl who crawled in a stove
to tell it all she could not bear
It helps to tell something the pain
whether it is listening
to be held inside a quiet place
asks not what you're offering
and maybe God's an empty stove
a metal belly full of me
and I'm the fire lit inside
when I tell him all my suffering
I wrote myself a hymn today
to lullaby my aching soul
and crawled inside my little room
to hear the echo of it all
Hallelujah, Halle-lu,
sang the fuel to the furnace
I know mercy is uncertain here
but how the world it burns us
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3. |
My Demons
04:54
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When I am gone, maybe too young
And when you mourn all you might’ve done
Sipping your whiskey, singing my songs
And cursing my demons, got me after all
Spare me your pity, give me my due
And think more of me than you do of you
‘cause you loved my demons (though you’d never say),
Beloved mistress kept in the shade
‘Cause my so-called angels did me no favors
Caused as much trouble as the devil ever did
Loved the wrong men, played savior
So heavy a conscience for so good a kid
But oh, the forgiveness, I’ve known in the dark
The velvet obsidian of my broken heart …
Would I be different, trade in my blues
For all of that sunshine that’s working for you?
‘Cause my kind of fire drives me to the ledge
Where I look over, flames at my back.
And I do not jump, and I’m not consumed,
But when I’m myself they say I am doomed
Maybe it’s true … maybe it’s true
So, when I am gone, maybe too young
And when you mourn all I might’ve done
Sip on your whiskey. Go ‘head and sing all my songs,
But be kind to my demons
With me all along.
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4. |
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The city's coming down around us now.
I found the shell of that bakery.
I used to love the cookies as a child,
but now everything is empty.
All these beloved places, now so sharp.
Every turn as jagged as a war.
When it started we did not believe.
Now we have forgotten life before.
She, sheltered here as I.
Nervous glances turn to trust in time.
And though we would have never been so bold,
between the bombs she slipped her hand in mine.
If we are to die here, what could be the harm,
huddled crying in a stranger's arms?
If they care nothing for the dead, what care we for the shame?
I couldn't even hear her name.
Is it closer, or is it far?
I used to count the spaces in the thunderstorm,
the nine gates of the ancient citadel ...
Now we find there's nowhere left to run.
The ash it looks like snow upon her hair,
the final snow that I will ever see.
I didn't travel far or make my name,
never found a calling or a family.
If we are to die here, what could be the harm,
huddled crying in a stranger's arms?
If they care nothing for the dead, what care we for the shame?
I couldn't even hear her name.
To the girl who shared the siege with me, I love you,
lovely as the land where I was born.
I wonder if we will see the morning.
Is it closer now, or is it far? Is it closer now, or is it far?
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5. |
Only Baby Now
02:36
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Honey, I love ya ain't no denying
we stood up in the church, everyone was cryin
over the threshold, white dress went a-flyin'
couldn't wait a minute, finally had to try it
First comes love and then comes marriage,
then comes a baby in the baby carriage
love, love, another carriage
if we keep it up at this rate don't know how we gonna manage
The bible, I read it. I know the lord said it
be fruitful and multiply or you might regret it
fun to make an army or a baseball team
in the family band the toddler can hold the tambourine
First comes love and then comes marriage,
do they make a tandem bike baby carriage
love, love another carriage
gotta fake a headache just to sleep upon the mattress
The twinkle in your eye can go sleep outside
love ya so much, it's hard to say no
but a decade of lovin' and buns in the oven
and diapers in dustbins 'til they overflow
First comes love and then comes marriage
getting frustrated with the rhythm method
love, love, ya know I've had it
and had it and had it and had it and had it
and had it and had it and had it and had it and had it
We all have needs to feed and to plan for
You're the only one I'd ever want 'em callin' Dada,
but let's break tradition on this monkey business
or you can permanently hide your banana ...
First comes love, then comes marriage
then a little visit to the doctor's office,
but love, love, once you're out of the bandage
nothing wrong with gettin' just a little savage
nothing quite so sexy as some family plannin'
no one in the house - kids are at my parents' ...
baby, you're my only baby now!
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6. |
If We Come Too Late
04:28
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Do the ribbons in my hair look far too girlish for the gray?
Do we put our hearts away - Who says it’s time?
I’d rather not look foolish … Maybe I’m too old to do this,
But we don’t get to choose our prime - And yours might not be mine.
If we come too late to all we love, by the only road there was,
Do we not get to dance for as long as we can
If not for as long as we want? If not for as long as we want?
Couldn’t wander any faster, had to weather every mile,
Couldn’t gather all the treasure in a day.
Wisdom in my eye, but all they see is the time
Gaining like an enemy … I try not to agree.
If we come too late to all we love, by the only road there was,
Do we not get to dance for as long as we can
If not for as long as we want? If not for as long as we want?
The lines on my face, like the lines on the page
You cannot trade the heartbreak
For the song it brings
So I’m gonna sing … I’m gonna sing.
‘Cause we All come too late to all we love
By the only road there was.
And it is there we will dance
For as long as we can
If not for as long as we want
if not for as long as we want
if not for as long as we want
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7. |
That One Time
04:22
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You’re still too beautiful for your own good
And if you weren’t so kind I’d worry ‘bout
The favors you come asking me to do
Easy to have a soft spot for you
And there was that one time
For once in the same town
You walked me back to my hotel
After we’d had a couple rounds
I wouldn’t stop talking
You kissed me to calm me down
And left me speechless at the door
I never pined. We kept in touch where we could.
A phone call. A ride to the airport.
A place to stay.
A bottle of wine.
And that one time
I cracked a joke (wasn’t a joke at all)
You took my hand
And you led me down the hall
It wasn’t love
It was beautiful
And that one time
Sometimes bites you in the end
Mostly when you try to turn
Once into again
But some things stand alone, stand apart
It’s no sin
We were smart my friend
I smile when those girls write their songs for you
Sing along because I know a thing or two
But I never wrote you one
Didn’t seem the thing to do
You didn’t heal my heart, or leave me cryin’
You just stayed the night … that one time.
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8. |
||||
|
Hello, my name is: Third School in Three Years.
Shuffled around where there's money to spare.
New list of classes, new list of names.
So much that's different, so much the same.
When did I begin studying all the latches - Could I open them
if my hands were shaking? That one painted shut ...
Cataloging all the places a child might fit.
Five doors to the exit. Thirty feet to the ground.
One flight to the roof. Better up? Better down?
Decide in advance, if you're stuck on the staircase.
How much time could I buy them if I ran out waving?
I hate it -
The space it takes up in my mind,
when I signed up to raise
the caliber
of minds.
So much time drilling all of the calculations
I hope they never know all my preparations,
how I quiz myself daily,
that they think it's just lessons,
textbooks from Texas, Civil War, Smith and Wesson,
ancient history, irrelevant mathematics.
So ashamed to have been monkeys - so willing to be statistics.
Keep them safe while I get them the basics:
Reading, Writing, 'Rithmetic and Shelter in Place.
I hate it -
The space it takes up in my mind,
when I signed up to raise
the caliber of their minds.
Caliber:
the measurement of character
or the barrel of a gun.
Isn't language fun?
And the ones who are listening,
they think I know everything.
I'll make no hollow points here,
don't know what laws we should be passing,
don't need no degree from Princeton
for what to do about our children.
The trigger end's a person, hurt and scared and sad,
who could've been taught to talk or run or sing when they're mad.
Who needed comfort, a teacher, a parent.
a breath, a moment, before
there's no coming back...
I'd rather hold you than your bullet,
And so would everybody here.
And if they don't, I'll try to teach them
how to love instead of fear.
I'd rather hold you than your bullet.
You can take up this space in my mind.
'Cause I signed up to raise
the caliber of lives.
Caliber:
the measurement of character
or the barrel of a gun.
isn't language fun?
and the ones who are listening,
they think they know everything.
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
When I am gone, maybe too young
And when you mourn all you might’ve done
Sipping your whiskey, singing my songs
And cursing my demons, got me after all
Spare me your pity, give me my due
And think more of me than you do of you
‘cause you loved my demons (though you’d never say),
Beloved mistress kept in the shade
‘Cause my so-called angels did me no favors
Caused as much trouble as the devil ever did
Loved the wrong men, played savior
So heavy a conscience for so good a kid
But oh, the forgiveness, I’ve known in the dark
The velvet obsidian of my broken heart …
Would I be different, trade in my blues
For all of that sunshine that’s working for you?
‘Cause my kind of fire drives me to the ledge
Where I look over, flames at my back.
And I do not jump, and I’m not consumed,
But when I’m myself they say I am doomed
Maybe it’s true … maybe it’s true
So, when I am gone, maybe too young
And when you mourn all I might’ve done
Sip on your whiskey. Go ‘head and sing all my songs,
But be kind to my demons
With me all along.
|
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Heather Aubrey Lloyd Baltimore, Maryland
Recovering reporter turned songwriter, Heather Aubrey Lloyd also co-fronts Baltimore’s ilyAIMY. Her 2017 solo release, “A Message in the Mess,” spotlights Lloyd’s emotive alto and a polished departure from her band’s alt-folk grit. Awards from the likes of No Depression Magazine, Telluride Troubadour, National Women’s Music Fest, etc. soon followed. Lloyd will release new music in late 2020. ... more
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