Supplementary Material (Audio Files)
Application to Creative Victoria: Music Works June 2022
Ruth Hazleton – Second Album Project
Reference: (Ref: GA-F4496869-857)
Track One (Stay Quiet – demo only)
Written, performed and arranged by Ruth Hazleton
LYRICS: Hours and hours before the light Stars are falling A flash of lightning strikes the night She won’t stay quiet anymore She’s tired by the burden of unwelcome gaze She won’t look back, her bridges have been set ablaze Don’t sanctify her beauty, it’s not her worth Nor is she the circumstances of her birth Her beauty is her anger & she is not a slave She’s deafened by the noise and it’s her own voice that she craves Don’t tell her to hold her tongue Like her mother once before She can speak her mind Her mind it isn’t yours
Track Two (In Your Hands – demo only)
Written, performed and arranged by Ruth Hazleton
A desert rose, reaching for the sunset, Seeds held by rusty coloured ground, Evening stars that light ancient pathways, Where dancing spinifex can be found. The call of birds returning to the valleys, The sound of rain on cindered ground, The slow retreat of ash upon the hillsides, Where new growth on obsidian can be found Hold it in your hands, it’ll find a way Hold it in your hands, it’ll find a way Perfect curl, a pearly brittle seashell, Relentless waves that break the shore, Every moment so tired in the passing, Barely noticed when they disappear and can’t be found anymore Hold it in your hands, it’ll find a way Hold it in your hands, it’ll find a way
Shackled (Song for Nudem Durek), from Daisywheel (2019)
Written by Ruth Hazleton
This song is included here as an example of previous work undertaken by Ruth Hazleton, Luke Plumb (Producer/ Engineer) and Mattie Foulds at Caribou Records, Scotland (Mix/Master). This is the primary team of creators that will be engaged for this second album project.
Black the night, I am bound A silent bird in a foreign cage March of men, the bells are ringing Poets shackled in iron chains Hush child and halt your singing Dark eyes turn to the ground Whispers of truths, deceiving Ghosts, echoes and chanting crowds Rivers and mountains, sickle moon, snow Shackle the dancers; an ancestor’s woe Militant daughters and absent her sons A mother is grieving, the damage is done Murmurs of a thousand voices Song the needle that weaves the thread Weave and spin the ancient stories Word for which your daughters bled The mother tongue of stateless pilgrims Threaten the pillars of prison walls Guards lay siege to the songs of children Fettered by thieves as darkness falls Rivers and mountains, sickle moon, snow Shackle the dancers; an ancestor’s woe Militant daughter not silent by choice Shackle my body, but never my voice