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Foy Vance - "Closed Hand, Full of Friends" (Live from Bushmills Distillery)

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Published on Aug 1, 2013

The Wild Swan Out Now: https://FoyVance.lnk.to/TheWildSwan

Live Performance of "Closed Hand, Full of Friends" from Joy Of Nothing

Directed and Edited by Babysweet
Filmed by Tristan Crowe / Gregg Houston / Niall Savage / Tony Webster
Titles by Euan Allardyce
Remote Recording Live at Bushmills Distillery by Alastair McMillan
Mixed by Michael Keeney @ Western Seaboard, Donegal
http://www.babysweetsessions.com

Joy Of Nothing Out Now
Spotify: http://spoti.fi/2xtwmet
iTunes/Apple Music: http://apple.co/2fG6pPz
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2yikJoi
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2yif8yu

http://instagram.com/foyvancemusic
http://facebook.com/foyvance
http://twitter.com/foyvance
http://foyvance.com

Lyrics:

The scenery's changing
And it warms my soul
I'm two hundred miles down and a long way yet to go

So get your boots on
And your walking coat
We'll together leave our footprints out upon the virgin snow

That ancient sunrise
Will soon descend
And we'll be left here pondering on the things which we can depend

So let's start over
With no means to an end
Just an open hearted hope and a closed hand full of friends

Well London was alright but I was dead in the water
Couldn't see in it's light
I couldn't kneel at it's alter
All I wanted was to tear it right down to the ground
But I'm feeling alright now
Yeah I'm feeling alright

Every morning
When the coffee's on
And I rediscover that colour in your eyes that is gold in it's bronze

And in the moonlight
We'll get the candles going
With the recitations of the Parish Poets popping on our tongues

Well London was alright but I was dead in the water
Couldn't see in it's light
I couldn't kneel at it's alter
All I wanted was to tear it right down to the ground
And then sing
From the fleeting-less culture
And hide it away from all the wolves and the vultures
All they wanted was to tear me right down to the ground
But I'm feeling alright now
Yeah I'm feeling alright

In the recitations of the Parish Poets
In the building of the bowers and in the Loch Tay boats
I will find my means to an end
With an open hearted hope and a closed hand full of friends

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