“… loved the variety in the songs, the production is fantastic … Highly recommended. Impossible to pigeon hole stylistically - decent, solid music.” 

— Ms E S, Buxton

“Listened all the way home and now it's on again in the kitchen!! 100 times better than the Facebook taster! ... commands you to listen to the words. So deep at times."

— Ms E K, Tideswell

“… it's like reading a good book while soaking in a bubble bath. … [it’ll be] going in the car so we can study it further as we travel! That's a compliment BTW.” 

— Mrs L S, Buxton

"I have to be honest with you; I do not understand the lyrics of all the songs of this CD as English is not my first language but even without understanding every single words I can say that the songs are beautiful to listen to.  I do not say that because Paul is a friend of mine but because it is the true.  If you listen to this CD, only by hearing the vibration in his voice makes the CD amazing… Listening his songs gives you an amazing feeling (goosebumps). Furthermore, the songs are based on a “real” story, which makes the songs even more fascinating. I invite you to visit his facebook or website (http://www.paulcromford.com) page to get/have a little taste and why not buying the CD. 
                                                                                     - M-L G, Doha

Fly, You Fool - Paul Cromford

Paul Cromford

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"Fly, You Fool", the album that I released in 2015, can be purchased and downloaded on a track-by-track basis or as the complete album.  There are also a number of CDs available, and if you would prefer to purchase one of these please contact me.

Scroll down the page for the lyrics.

N.B. When ordering and paying by credit card, please follow the PayPal link where you can pay without needing to sign up for a PayPal account.

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LYRICS

STARRY SKIES

You were running from, not to 
When you wrote all those billets doux 
I don’t know but I can guess 
How you might charm your way into that mess 
And I can picture you 
Just waving every notion through 
Laying in ten years of clover: 
Were you fairly sure your game was over then? 

What left your eyes? 
Was there no joy for you 
In starry skies? 

If not I guess you’d just as well be hanged 
For a sheep as for a lamb; 
There should be another word 
For why you bore the cost you had incurred; 
Sometimes reduced to kneeling, 
Shoring up a massive ceiling; 
How soon down the line, I wonder 
Did you know you’d never get from under there? 

What left your eyes? 
Was there no joy for you 
In starry skies? 

And now I speculate without a clue 
On what it felt like being you. 
How far do our hearts compare? 
However different, is it fair 
To blame a boy 
Because he sees the joy 
In starry skies?

 

SABBATH CHILD

Sometimes your lungs will burn and ache; 
It seems the Lord your soul must take. 
Turned on your side, you quake and cough; 
Another bout will surely carry you off. 

Beside your bed I wait all night; 
My head is bowed, my throat is tight. 
Did I bequeath to you this bane? 
Woe to the man who'd bring you life in vain. 

For the child that is born on the Sabbath day 
Is sick and slight and sad and grey. 

I will not face the word ‘goodbye’ 
While keeping your covers warm and dry 
And from my fearful heart is wrung 
Prayer without words, and a hope that has no tongue 

For the child that is born on the Sabbath day 
Is sick and slight and sad and grey.

 

THE SCREW THAT HOLDS THE PLATE

Mine is the conscripted hand that tightens up the screw 
That holds the plate that shields the bolts that keep the wheel true. 
This undercarriage overhauled, the ‘plane can make its flight 
And my conscripted hand ensures a city’s fed tonight. 

Never well-regarded, just an errand-boy at school 
Then I became the tea-boy for an office typing-pool 
‘Til O.H.M.S. beckoned through the letter-box, and how: 
How everyone at home would gape to see the tea-boy now, 

‘Cause mine is the conscripted hand that tightens up the screw 
That holds the plate that shields the bolts that keep the wheel true. 
This undercarriage overhauled, the ‘plane can make its flight 
And my conscripted hand ensures a city’s fed tonight. 

I might live to ripe old age, I may achieve some fame 
Or I may found a dynasty upon my blameless name; 
I may perform some epic deeds for future troubadours 
But I already play a role to make you question yours, 

‘Cause mine is the conscripted hand that tightens up the screw 
That holds the plate that shields the bolts that keep the wheel true. 
This undercarriage overhauled, the ‘plane can make its flight 
And my conscripted hand ensures a city’s fed tonight. 

Yes, my conscripted hand ensures Berlin is fed tonight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Melody :- traditional 
Arrangement & lyrics:- Cromford

 

TEN WORDS

After the match, as the evening mist fell 
You shared his sandwich on the walk back to town. 
Both smiling, both having plenty to tell; 
Two skinny children with ten words in common. 

Who won the game if someone burst the ball then? 
Who then? Who then? 

Five years ago you’d have shot him on sight; 
Next year he’ll leave you and be just as dead. 
So watch the match, belt his greatcoat on tight; 
You mark the touchline and he’s your defender. 

Who won the game if someone burst the ball then? 
Who then? Who then? 

Ten words or less, to say he’d return; 
Ten words or less, you’ll murmur forever.

 

SHE FADED

So her home town 
And her kindred 
And her motherland 
All faded and faded 

In a half-world 
Full of half-lives 
Though he clung to her 
She faded and faded 

Just died away season by season 
Lost out to reason 
And that grey road. 

As the weeks dragged 
And the months passed 
And the years flew 
She faded and faded 

Just died away season by season 
Lost out to reason 
And that grey road. 

Did he dare fight? 
Did he question? 
Did he wonder if 
She waited and faded?

 

GLIDING THROUGH

See: there’s a big house in the gloaming 
See how the vacant windows stare 
Now wonder at the kind of people coming 
To settle there. 

See: there’s a cardboard suitcase open 
See a cut-price suit hangs on the door 
Now meet the owner of these things, who’s hoping 
For so much more. 

Come on come on, old man 
And throw your shutters wide old man 
And stoke those fires inside old man 
And by your grace I’m gliding through. 

See: there’s a big house in the gloaming 
See how the upper windows glow 
Now hear a fateful fearful storm-force warning 
And feel it blow. 

Come on come on, old man 
And throw your shutters wide old man 
And stoke those fires inside old man 
And by your grace I’m gliding through. 

Look out, look out old man 
Be wary of your bride old man 
It’s still not cut and dried, but man! 
It will be when I’m gliding through.

 

PENCILS AT THE READY

The first is in PERFECTLY 
The second in PLAIN 
The third is in FATUOUS, never in SANE. 

The fourth’s in MALEVOLENT 
And not in BENIGN 
The fifth is in SATURDAYS 
One of them mine. 

Figure out the characters herein intertwined; 
O who am I, and what’s the number you will find? 

The sixth is in NO-MAN’S LAND 
That unpounded beat 
The seventh’s in GUNNERY 
Not in RETREAT. 

The eighth is within ITSELF 
The ninth in SINCERE 
The same can be said of ten 
Often this year. 

Figure out the characters herein intertwined; 
O who am I, and what’s the number you will find? 

… what will you find? 

… what will you find?

 

CRADLE ME

Give me softness, give me quiet, cradle me; 
Tired of harshness, let me lie at your side. 

When there’s a thunderstorm raging 
And nothing’s assuaging the gales; 
When all the fences are creaking 
And mad with the shrieking of nails; 
Then I’m needing you to 

Give me softness, give me quiet, cradle me; 
Tired of harshness, let me lie at your side. 

We live bedevilled by ogres 
Monsters and bogus delights; 
We need to trust every sunset 
Will see everyone set to rights; 
So I’m needing you to 

Give me softness, give me quiet, cradle me. 

While there’s a DEW-line around us 
And enemies hound us for sport; 
While there’s a world in the balance 
And peace-making talents are short; 
Then I’m needing you to 

Give me softness, give me quiet, cradle me. 

Cradle me.

 

TRANSPORTED

Time for love to carry you off your feet 
Time to taste the finest things to eat 
Understanding one word in every ten 
Ignorance has blissed you out once again 

Wound up like a music box before you so much as step outside 
Bells are ringing in the most unlikely of places as you ride 
Towers dance around each other on a straight line outward and returning 
Magic never seemed so rife nor you ever so discerning 

Time for life to flash its teeth in a grin 
Time to have your cake and cram it in 
Walking up and down and a-waving your hands 
Bliss has kissed your senses, rapture commands 

Wound up like a music box before you so much as step outside 
Bells are ringing in the most unlikely of places as you ride 
Towers dance around each other on a straight line outward and returning 
Magic never seemed so rife nor you ever so discerning 

And yearning 
To hail every morning 
And with each new dawning 
A hunger for learning 

Wound up like a music box before you so much as step outside 
Bells are ringing in the most unlikely of places as you ride 
Towers dance around each other on a straight line outward and returning 
Magic never seemed so rife nor you ever so discerning.

 

HOME AT NUMBER NINE

Hanging up the ‘phone 
Turn away from the parade 
Wandering back to our sweet home at number nine. 

Then we fed the fire 
With the sketches I had made 
Keep me occupied re-drawing every line. 

Home at number nine is the only game in town as far as I can see; 
Everything is mine, from the disused rooms out to the barren apple-tree. 

Pass the railway bridge 
On an evening ‘bus from town 
Kicking heels to reach our home at number nine. 

Then the feathers flew 
With another law laid down 
Keep me occupied re-toeing every line. 

Home at number nine is the only game in town as far as I can see; 
Everything is mine, from the disused rooms out to the barren apple-tree. 

Anything at all 
Feeds my memory at play 
For a dream of our sweet home at number nine. 

Recollections slip 
Nothing stays as it would lay 
Keep me occupied re-thinking every line.

 

EARTH FALLS AWAY

Chains of aprons lead us gently down to sea 
Every one a dance-floor 
No matter what we dance for. 
Hesitantly and with shyness we beseech 
Can we feel lighter 
On tip-toe, springing wider? 

Earth falls away 
In the broad day 
All around us. 
See the Earth falls away 
In the broad day 
All around us. 

Escher-lating turns of stone for tumbling down 
In a dream recurring 
Forgetting we were soaring. 
Shoes with ideas of their own bestride the ground 
Seven leagues in each tread 
For dreamers far from their bed. 

Earth falls away 
In the broad day 
All around us. 
See the Earth falls away 
In the broad day 
All around us.

 

DOWN YOUR WAY

Grainy in the half-light, there’s an outside after all 
It’s that or stare another day at patterns on my wall 
Just as safe to walk but I feel better if I crawl 
Getting down your way. 

Hot enough for summer, or my calendar is skewed 
So my flank is basted and my silverside is stewed 
Heaving on an empty stomach, gag on thoughts of food 
Going down your way. 

Too early for the ‘buses, not that they will run today 
Dustmen haul the chimney-sweeps away 
Coalmen line the pavements, very still, not much to say 
This is down your way. 

Down our way, we never thought those angel horns would cry 
We’d clench our teeth and lie 
Down your way. 

There’s no-one cranking up the cars, there’s no-one stopping trains 
Music on the wireless with ominous refrains 
Menace moves the motor-scooters, peril points the ‘planes 
Now we’re down your way. 

I see my neighbour’s house wide open, china full of dirt 
Bulldog on a hunger-fuelled alert 
The woman cries and topples from her back-step, sits inert 
Going down your way. 

Down our way, we never thought those angel horns would cry 
We’d clench our teeth and lie 
Down your way. 

Ants will take the orchard, floating fish will choke the roads 
Thoroughfares be covered by a plague of frogs and toads 
Sing Hey-Ho, that your silos and their nasty little loads 
Brought us down your way. 

Down our way, we never thought those angel horns would cry 
We’d clench our teeth and lie 
Down your way.

Loving the album!    Astonishingly Good!”

— Mr D G, Buxton