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Deciduous Eccentric

by Stephen Hero

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD comes in a six panel card digisleeve featuring lyrics by Patrick Fitzgerald and artwork by Karl Harris. All pre-sale orders will be signed by Patrick. If you don't want a signed copy please let us know in your order.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Deciduous Eccentric via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      £5 GBP or more 


  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £5 GBP  or more


The Green North We learnt the names of birds and trees We learnt the names of stars Constellations in the west Wild and cold and far These keen northern nights We mapped the walks, the beaches, coves The shingled fragile strand Lightning struck to fulgurite, foraminifera Green northern lights I remember I remember It feels far and distant Vague picture, blurred vistas It was fantastic We learnt to sing and cook and dance Picked up the piano The soups and jams were boiling up Boxed wine, candlelight As if your soul was in the sky Glowing, glowing As if your soul was in the sky Glowing, glowing In the fields lie cows and sheep Turf smoke is drifting The drunkard tractor driver men In the pubside muttering Outside there are shimmerings Wild waves of silvery lights Hard rain on the boggy roads The dunes down at Strandhill Bee orchids, grey seals Oystercatchers, sanderlings We lived so well We burst our minds Ejaculating splendour Now it’s singing in the past Savouring the memories Fade into night I remember, do you remember? Indigo nights?
Colin 04:22
Colin Colin cuts his hair short Brushes out his wig Slips his arms into the dress Smears red on his lips I'm home in this baby doll Pink champagne on ice I'm home in silk and pearls Such a paradise Colin saves the buttons Of every soldier he's kissed Colin calls it a museum It's my museum of bliss Colin straps are hurting Stockings on the floor Put the girl in white tonight Tomorrow boy once more Shoot your arrow up in the sky Watch it dazzle Watch it fly Shoot your arrow high in the sky Colin sings for strangers Makes them feel relaxed Soldier Colin, sailor Colin Banjee Colin, fag Can't you see I've learnt to fly, prettiness inside Can't you see I've learnt to fly, I'm a butterfly inside Colin's drinking too much gin Falls across the floor Colin's tired, but can't stop trying Smiling, waving, smiling, crying Shoots his arrow up in the sky Watch it dazzle, watch it fly Shoots his arrow high in the sky Will it fizzle out and die?
Fly A Rocket 04:27
Fly A Rocket Captain, oh captain Hoist up the John B sails England's cold and lost its soul There's a cherry blossom glow in Tokyo I know what's coming next I'm not afraid I'll swing with the sweep of time To a French chateau (Chorus Voices: Captain, captain Underneath my skin Captain take us out To cherry blossom snow in Tokyo I quit my whoring, I'll be so clean I quit my dreaming, I'll be so clear Captain you're the calm Diamond of my soul Part of me is tethered in The part I thought was missing I quit my drinking, I'll be so clean I quit my dreaming, I'll be so clear) Captain, oh Captain How many breaths are left? I feel a rush to get things done Now I've gone and quit my selfishdom I quit beer and whoring Smoking's so boring And studied Manet I quit my obsessing Religion's depressing Is there enough time to play? I'll learn to dance I'll learn to sing I'll learn to fly a rocket Where shall we go to avoid the snow? It's late now and the Derbyshire hills are dark Time to take myself to bed Captain, oh, Captain Help me wear the skin of a wiser man And whilst there's still time there's a flat in Berlin Full of light and ghosts Let's go there next April Then Porto in May Olives with Elizabeth I will dance I will sing I will fly a rocket
Elsie, the sea
 Is calling me
 Lulling me back and forth
 Blue and green and cold and deep 
Sleepy Sargasso sea
 What wonderful fields of green
 What wondering fields of green upon grey
 What wonderful fields of grey, what wonder
 A walk through the field to the beach to the tide 
 Crashing big breakers soaking my shoes
 I wasn't expecting such a big welcome
 I wasn't expecting you
 The ship, the ship can’t see this
 The ship, the ship sails on
 Here is the rest I long for tonight 
Here is the bed where the moon rests its head
 What wonderful fields of black upon black
 What wonderful greys and blues
 What wonderful fields of green upon grey
 What wonder

A Gunshot In The Fog
 Hunters in the valley
 Where are you now? Did you get to the station? 
These separations cause such worry
 I’m anxious at night, the men shoot the partridge 
In this foggy wet valley I trudge with old faithful
 Wondering where the train takes you
 Where thinking of you takes me
 Roses, such perfect roses
 Pink petals in the Belfast sink.
 Roses, Ashes of Roses 
 The Austin A90 stalled on Hampstead Hill
 A gunshot in the fog deafens, it deafens 
I can’t hear the birds, are they done singing?
 Are you calling? There’s no signal 
 I shout into the fog, the mist doesn’t answer
 There’s a body in there somewhere
 Tomorrow they'll find it, tomorrow you're home

Patient Here Myself
 I’m sorry I can’t help
 I’m a patient here myself
 I used to know the exit
 The way through the doors
 We’ll both just have to wait
 Buzz and beep go the machines
 As we sit and stare at the TV
 Their digital humming, digital numbing
 The more they bleep the less you feel
 The nurse wheels us to the needles 
Where they bleed us, then try to feed us
 They call me by my first name like I’m demented
 Then wheel me back behind the curtain again 
 Take him down, take him down 
X-ray form, X-ray gown
 The doctor frowns at the screen he sees 
He can't even bear to look at me
 “Is it alive or dead? How can you tell?"
 "Prod it, prod it, see if it moves
" "Prod it, prod it, see if there's goo.”
 I’m sorry I can’t help 
I’m a stranger here myself
 I got lost in the hall, in the white corridor
 We’ll both just have to wait.

Skinny Cupboard Pill Boy
 A cupboard of pills
 Tells me he’s ill
 "Mind if we don’t?" he asks
 "I don’t mind" I say
 He leads me to bed
 I hold his frail body 
And into the darkness we go together
 A simple release now folded into sleep 
I leave him a kiss, behind me a wave
 From a skinny cupboard pill boy
 Waiting on his rattling grave
 On his rattly grave

Stripping Oliver
 Just a step, step closer 
To the edge, I'm going over
 Stripping Oliver to the bone, to the gold
 Falling head first into his heart 
Let the music take control
 Bones and tendon
 Electric nerve shake 
Birds, just bird song (no music at all)
 Stripping Oliver to the sound
 Of his grinning
 Feeling Oliver inside his skin
 The music prickling
 Motorbike boy underneath lips
 Lies the promise of his kiss
 Bones and tendon, electric nerve shake
 Birds, just bird song (no music at all)
 A breathing hole In the skin
 We're going to sing like birds
 Just one breath, breath closer
 I'm slipping in, I'm going over 
By stripping Oliver to the skin 
His soul's unzipping

Turn To You 04:15
Turn To You
 I hope today went well, the kids behaved
 I love what you do, it's great I haven't said it 
 Lost in my crisis, half-listening, half-falling 
Off imaginary bridges
 Sometimes it feels so hopeless 
And I'm supposed to be Hercules 
At times like these, I turn to you
 I turn to you ashamed of my despair
 I turn to you knowing your face, the trace
 The space between us
 Into which I poured concrete and messed up 
You stand there arms open, smiling, sighing
 That you've always been here, there
 But never seen, why don't I listen?
 What's the matter with me?
I turn to you 
I turn off the cinema of traffic accidents 
I turn off the cinema of overdoses
 Plunges into freezing reservoirs 
I turn to you in my failings, and you take me
 And I can't bear that you take me I can't leave you
 Because back there was too frightening
 I never said thank you, what an asshole
 I never said thank you, what an asshole
 You shush my self-loathing
 Pull up my face from your sweater
 And you say I've always been here
 Here, there, wherever, turn to me
 I turn to you

Don’t Say It’s Too Late
 Don’t say it
 Don’t say it’s too late, don’t mean it
 I couldn't do more it's not in my grasp 
I couldn't do more 
Why do you even ask? 
 Don’t make me say it, don’t make me 
Don’t make me mean it, don’t make me
 December ends, what a charade
 Sparkling cards and melancholy hearts
 The seesaw dishonesty, Bacardi and gin 
Come home loose-tongued expecting a grin 
Look at us now, all grey and useless 
I’m not your nurse now, you can be replaced 
 Childhood ambitions in your juvenile brain
 Haven’t you seen it?
We're not the same
 Nothing is coming, and nothing now will
 Yes nothing new is coming, nothing ever will
 There's a unicorn of hope 
In a rainbow field
 Neighing out a certainty
 That everyone's real
 Dreams breed despair
 Resent, discontent
 The door is open
 It's time that I went


Deciduous Eccentric features 10 new songs of baroque chamber pop that sizzle and simmer with piano, cello, and electronics all topped off with that distinctive voice. For his final record Patrick has written songs from personal memories, initially set to small piano pieces, that have then been brought electrifyingly to life with some amazing cello work by maverick composer and media artist Semay Wu. Along the way we discover harmonies from Heidi Berry (4AD/Creation) and a duet with Simon Rivers (The Bitter Springs) plus further cameo appearances from assorted friends and musical accomplices. "The door is open
, it's time that I went


released November 1, 2019

© + ℗ Written, made and played by Patrick Fitzgerald with:

Semay Wu - cello on all songs except Don't Say It's Too Late
Yves Altana - cymbals and percussion
Heidi Berry - harmony vocal on Stripping Oliver
Simon Rivers - first lead vocal on Don't Say It's Too Late
Fern Smith - backing vocal on Fly A Rocket and Elsie, The Sea
Philip Ralph - backing vocal on Fly A Rocket and Elsie, The Sea
Will Fulford-Jones - mandolin on Patient Here Myself and violin on Elsie, The Sea and Turn To You


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Patrick Fitzgerald was the singer and bass player in Kitchens of Distinction. After Kitchens he was: Fruit, one half of three fabulous duos - Lost Girls | The April Seven | Oskar's Drum - and Stephen Hero. He has been releasing records under all these guises and more since 1987. ... more

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