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Bruce Ley Collection One 'The Peacock, the Deer, and the Moon'

by Bruce Ley

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    Included at the end of the digital download are two extra tracks in progress for the following two CD's coming out later this year. The first belongs to Collection Two, a gathering of country, roots, and folk songs. The second will be in Collection Three, a CD of lyrical jazz to be released at the end of 2014. Extra tracks also included in automatic download that accompanies the purchase of the physical CD.
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How does she know what she knows without looking? She leads the revolution with the way that she’s cooking, Going left when the crowd is leaning right, Listening to angels in the middle of the night. Peering out from her shades she sees into the shadows, Reaching out her hand she grabs hold of the battle, Nothing passes easy, nothing’s left to hide, Her white charger is a streetcar, her lance a subway ride. How does she know, what she knows, what she knows? How does she know, what she knows, what she knows? How does she know, what she knows, what she knows? How does she know, what she knows, what she knows? What does she know that she’s not telling? What does she know that she won’t say? Where does she get the strength that’s inside her? How does she triumph day after day? How does she know? How does she do what she does without talking Leading the revolt with the way that she’s walking? With the tiniest of shifts in her splintered heart, She’s gonna tear this whole wide world apart
You don’t love me baby, we both know it’s true. You don’t love me baby, there ain’t nothing we can do, ‘Cause love won’t be commanded, It won’t do what you tell it to. You don’t love me baby, and that ain’t gonna change. You don’t love me baby, no matter how I rearrange. The heart has its own fire, girl, And it flickers with its own flame. Your smell is on the bed sheets, Your spices on the shelf, Your music’s on my headset, I can’t think of no one else. Your cat it keeps on crying, Your mail lies there unread, I peer ’round each corner for you You’re still spinning in my head. ‘Cause I still love you baby, I’m just a broken hearted fool. Your heart’s flame has flickered out, girl, But mine’s still burning bright and true. You don’t love me baby, there is no kindness in the fact. You don’t love me baby, my soul is stretched out on the rack. There’s a bleak landscape before me, And a cold wind’s howling at my back. Ain’t the heart a strange thing, Taking prisoners as it will, It don’t ask permission, When it sneaks in for the kill. We were both so willing For its fiery embrace, But now I’m burning up inside And you’re gone without a trace. You don’t love me, baby, what more is there to say. You don’t love me baby, You’re already miles and miles away. I’m just a broken hearted fool for you, honey, ‘Cause I still love you anyway, ‘Cause I still love you anyway, I’m just a broken hearted fool.
I’m sitting right down Gonna stay a while resisting the pull. I’m sitting on down Gonna stay a while resisting the pull. You can’t draw me to you Playing on greed, I’m not buying what I don’t need, Resisting the pull, Resisting the pull. Empty condo’s selling peace of mind, Empty temptations of every kind. Expensive cars so you can go faster, Expensive clothes to make you look like the master. Pretty women selling dreams for the night, Pretty handshakes to make your world right. Spend your money so you won’t be alone, Spend your money right from home. The whole world’s telling us that we’re small, The whole world’s turned into a shopping mall. It doesn’t matter if you need it or not, ‘Cause baby don’t you know It’s ‘bout the stuff that you got. I’m not saying that it’s easy, Sometimes I give up and give in, But if you don’t try They’ll suck you dry You lose and they win. They’ll take every dollar Leave you dry as a bone They don’t care if you end up on the street All alone, no, no.
My little girl she’s got a face so sweet, It makes me wanna holler, it makes me wanna weep. She’s got legs, man, they’re so fine, They make me wanna walk the line. Ooo my my she’s built like a tank, She’s got money in the bank. Talk about assets, well, man she’s got ‘em, What tops it off is her great big bottom. Her great big bottom, She’s got a great big bottom, She’s got a great big bottom, And that’s all right with me. She’s so high toned, it’s obscene, Like some girl in a magazine. When we go dancing, I feel like a king, ‘Cause everybody loves it when she shakes that thing. When we go strolling accidents happen, Some men whistle and some start clapping, It’s enough to make you go into shock, When my baby walks that walk – with he
Walking Free 04:47
Hey, whatcha’ doing Down there in the dark? That ain’t no place to sink on down, That ain’t no place to park. Of all the places In the world so big and wide, Why d’ya choose a prison? It’s a foolish place to hide. We can be captives, Of many different kinds, In isolation, Held hostage by our minds. Fear and anger, Refusal to forgive, They keep us locked up inside, And that ain’t no way to live. You could be walking free, You could be walking free, You could be walking free, Liberty. That door can open, You have got the key. Why don’t you come on out? You can be walking free. Come on and look up, The sky is bright and blue. It’s a brand new day, And it’s waiting here for you.
You walked out the door Swinging those fabulous hips, You muttered something rude, But hey, I could read your lips. You took the keys to the car And the dog and the cat, That pouting red mouth, And my best ball cap. You had your Prada over your shoulder And your leopard skin purse, And those stiletto heels you know I love But I’ll tell you what’s worse, You wore that grey pencil skirt, With the zip up the back, And I know you’re not wearing Much under that. You wore your red cashmere sweater Pulled tight across the top Showing off all your charm Just in case I forgot. Oh, sweet girl, I’m beginning to see the error of my ways, Give me one more chance, Come on back and stay. I want you back baby, I want you back. I want you back baby, I want you back. I want you back baby, I want you back. O.K. alright I know Things got a little out of hand, I’ve been spending way too much time With the boys in the band, I know your birthday present wasn’t Exactly what you had in mind, And where your friends are concerned I haven’t been perfectly kind. But you know I’m a gentleman at heart And I'm a lover too, And if you’ll give me just one more chance, I’m gonna prove it to you.
I’ve been sitting by the Mayflower, All this time, just waiting for you. Right here at the Mayflower, Wondering what you’re gonna do. My bags are standing in the dockyard, Beside a different point of view. I’ve been sitting by the Mayflower All this time, just waiting for you, Right here at the Mayflower, I swear I’m gonna see it through. The dawn is breaking, and I am breaking too. I wake up in the morning And from the first light to the last I’m cramped and cursed and kept down in my place. But I’ve heard that in the new world A man can be what he wants to be, And mostly what I want is to be free. I’m sitting here at the Mayflower, Watching as they load up the rum. Just sitting here at the Mayflower Polishing my boots and my gun. I’m still waiting for you baby, I’m still hoping you’ll come. How I talk and hold my knife, My profile and my hands They hold me in my place just like a vice. But my dreams won’t be contained Nor my worth stamped on a page, A man can’t live his life inside a cage. Well, I’m leaving on the Mayflower, Hadn’t planned to leave without you. I’m sailing on the Mayflower, You have to do what you have to do. I’m so sorry you’re not with me, wish you were sailing too.
Oh, my sweet one, I’m talking to you, Come on let’s take a little stroll, Let’s amble round the corner, babe, And leave behind the rock and roll. I’ve got words, I’d like to whisper, Words I’ve been saving just for you, Seems like ages since we wandered Arm in arm alone, just we two. Would you like to hear some stories About the way things might have been, Or tales of how they might yet come to be? I won’t take my eyes off you baby, Just smooth talk you all night long, I’m so hoping that you’ll spend this time with me. Hip to hip, Walking slowly, I’m not rushing you through the night. There’s nothing on in the morning, So let’s take our time and get it right.
My face is cracked-up little tiles, Like some dried-up old river bed. Searin’ desiccating hatred Been blowin’ all round my head. Why don’t you oil me? Come on and oil me, My love, anoint me, Oil me some more. My face been chiseled by the clever, A pummeled Easter Island Dope. I’ve been chipped right down, and tipped right down, My face is runnin’ out of hope. Eyes can create, so take my face, And make my face and shape my face. Ease round my eyes, all twisted from lies, Knead my tired face I need your care, Design me with your lovin’ stare. My face truly polished by the smooth, Been well buffed from all the push offs. I got those low-down-dirty-down Gone-all-featureless-smooth-face-blues.
We come from different places, We all search different skies. Sometimes we are foolish, And sometimes we are wise. We’re all searching, For a pathway through the dark, Driven by the hunger of the heart. We wander and we wonder, We pick through the debris, Of a shattered landscape, Where ain’t nobody free, Through the mess and through the muddle, That’s tearing us apart, Driven by the hunger of the heart. So hold on now, Hold on tight, Stand together, Till the morning light. You know, change takes time, We need to hold each other tight, And stand together, In the morning light. The sun rises each morning, A parade of endless days, We each have our burdens, We all see in different ways. But gathered all together, Embracing all who roam, The hunger of the heart will lead us home.
I don’t want it to be said That I hide my art in complication. I don’t want it to be said That I hide away from what is cruel. I don’t want to think that I was capable of hatred. But the truth, it’s complicated, In truth it’s complicated. I don’t want to spend my life Chasing photoshopped realities, Wanting for the easy things You can touch and you can hold, Quantifiable results that others have created, But the truth, it’s complicated, In truth it’s complicated. Calculations, numbers, approved or not approved, Everywhere are scales and measures leaving my soul bruised. Where to rest, where to wander? Where to be alone? Where to curl up with Annie and whisper to a stone? I don’t want to waste this life With lofty self ambitions, Slithering through the endless gutters, Passing all those in need. I don’t want to reach and fail until my breath is abated. But the truth it’s complicated. The truth it’s complicated.
Ellen's Song 03:31
Wondering in the morning how I’ll find you, Wondering in the evening how you’ll be, Knowing that the time is near to leave me behind, And let yourself be set free. Watching all the people that have loved you, Watching the parade that passes by, Listening to the gentle words of comfort, And the sorrow in their sad goodbyes. All your life you’ve struggled, Just to make it through the day, To breathe and stretch, And tell us where you’ve been, Courage comes in forms, That we never would suspect, And saintliness is not always serene. Now after all the struggles, Peace descends upon your soul, You sleep so sound, it must be time to go. Wondering in the morning where you’ll waken, Wondering how it feels to drift away, Knowing even now as tears begin to flow, You’ll begin a bright new day, You’ll begin a bright new day.
No, No, No 03:45
If you’re going down that road, babe, You’re not going down it with me. If you’re going down that road, babe, You’re not going down with me. Because the only thing down there, Is a graveyard of use-to-be’s. There’s nothing down that road, But pain and misery. I tell you there’s nothing down that road, But pain and misery. Go on ahead if you want to, But you’re not going down it with me. No, no, no, I’m not coming with you, No, no, no, I mean it this time. No, no, no, Ain’t nothing but meanness, No, no, no Bad tempers and traffic fines. No, no, no I’m not coming with you, No, no, no, And I’m telling you that I mean it this time. Just a pile of bad memories, And a long list of ‘should have dones’, Just a pile of sad memories, And a very long list of ‘should have dones’, Nothing good coming from it, No love making babe, simply ain’t no fun.


I have been a working musician since I was sixteen. It’s been a good life doing what I love for a living, though not without its challenges. After years of recording, working as a musical director, scoring for television and film and producing and writing arrangements for others, I have returned to the place where I began - writing my own songs and performing live.

I think the material I have been working on the last few years has merit. I’ve tested it out in some concert venues the last couple of years and it seems time to let the music go out into the world.

So, this year I am releasing it in a series of three CD’s.

Collection One, aptly named, is the first. It is a collection of blues, soul and rock that surveys the current landscape with a hopeful heart.
Well, mostly hopeful, and possibly helpful too.

It’s a foolish idea, perhaps, but I have this thought that the world is much in need of music as both a balm for the soul and a wake up call for the spirit. There are many wonderful singers and song writers who have offered up their creative work to the universe, and I think we are all better off for it. Here is my offering.

A word about the lyrics. Almost all of them are written by my wife, Candice Bist. She is, of her own accord, a wonderful writer and scholar. But I also happen to think she is remarkably musical, marrying the music effortlessly with her poetry at the same time she seems to channel both my own thoughts, and the deeper voice of the music itself. Quite remarkable really. I cannot say that I am a singer/songwriter, but rather that we are a singer/songwriter. Candice has written short intros before the lyrics of each song to give you an idea of their birthplace. You will know she is speaking to you because there will be a 'CJ' afterwards.

The revolution has begun, of that you can be sure. 
Embrace romance. Learn to wonder.
Listen for the Backbeat.
And don't believe for one moment that change is not possible.

"The Peacock, the Deer, and the Moon"

"We cannot see the tendrils that trail from one thing to the next,
but we are woven together, all of us, the peacock, the deer and the moon,
all warp and weave traveling through time,
heartstrings and memories one
moving, who knows where?

The vast darkness,
the interceding light crackling with laughter born of love,
all move in a grand sweep of grace,
majestic and bold.
But the movement is not solely the instrument of some great other,
though that grounding both bolds us fast and propels us forward.
The direction we move is guided by the invisible
bracelet wrapped around our wrist,
binding us to the beloved in breath and woods and sky.

When lovers entwined stand open faced toward the moon,
the peacock in hopeful anticipation spreads his courting robe,
and the deer nibbles contentedly on the winter wheat and dreams of spring.

Is it not better, then, to gather in the world’s embrace,
holding fast to one another and our eternal goodness,
which, though so often obscured by our conceits, burns eternal no matter our intent?

In humility lies hope.
And in our professed love for one another a way forward." CJ


released March 26, 2014

Production Notes

Scott Bruyea, drums, percussion

Bob Hewus, bass

Steve Kennedy, soprano, alto, tenor and baritone saxophones

Larry Kurtz, blues harp

Eric Mahar, lead guitar

Bruce Ley, lead and rhythm guitars, keyboards, percussion, lead vocals

Steve Kennedy, Carole Warren, Russell Jones, Bob Hewus, Scott Bruyea, Leslie Arden, Aaron Solomon, Rob Lang, Graham Corbett, Norm Trudeau, background vocals,

First Friday Soul Singers:
Juliette Reynolds, Anne Thompson, Laura Wark, Lisa Watson, Alta Wilber, sopranos
Candice Bist, Jenna Kessler, Joanna Mackie, Julie Mae Nemeth, Amy Ouchterlony, Laura Walton, altos
Graham Corbett, Russell Jones, Rob Lang, Norm Trudeau, tenors

Recorded by Bruce Ley at Bruce Ley Studios
Mixed by George Semkiw at Amber Studios
Mastered by George Graves at Lacquer Channel

Tipher Ley, Candice Bist, Art Direction
Zip the Dog, CD Manufacturing

Bruce Ley, Candice Bist, producers
Web Site: www.bruceley.ca
All rights reserved SOCAN 2014


Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.



Bruce Ley Mulmur, Ontario

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