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Yulunga ( s p i r i t d a n c e )

The Ubiquitous Mr LovegroveThe Wind that Shakes the BarleyThe Carnival is OverAriadneSaldekTowards The WithinTell Me About the Forest

The Spider’s StratagemEmmeleiaHow Fortunate the Man with None

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I N T O T H E L A B Y R I N T H

( y o u o n c e c a l l e d h o m e )

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I N T O T H E L A B Y R I N T H

“ The Wind that Shakes the Barley” i s dedicated to the memor y of Maureen Cooper

PERFORMED BY L ISA GERRARD & BRENDAN PERRYENGINEERED AND PRODUCED BY BRENDAN PERRY AT QU IVVY CHURCH

RE-MASTERED AT MOBILE F IDEL ITY SOUND LAB BYNEAL HARRIS WITH SUPERV IS ION BY SHAWN R. BR ITTON

FRONT COVER IMAGE “HANDS OF THE WORLD”A PHOTOGRAPH BY TOUHAMI ENNADRE.COPYRIGHT BY TOUHAMI ENNADREBOOKLET IMAGES BY KEN KAVANAGH

DESIGN BY CHRIS B IGG AND BRENDAN PERRY

WRITTEN BY DEAD CAN DANCE. PUBL ISHED BY UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBL ISH ING / MOMENTUM 3. EXCEPT “THE WIND THAT SHAKES THE BARLEY” WORDS AND MUSIC : DR ROBERT DWYER JOYCE TRADIT IONAL. ARRANGEMENT: DEAD CAN DANCE. UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBL ISH ING / MOMENTUM 3.

“HOW FORTUNATE THE MAN WITH NONE” MUSIC : DEAD CAN DANCE, WORDS: BERTOLT BRECHT ( t ranslat ion : john wi l let t) . UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBL ISH ING / MOMENTUM 3 / STEFAN S .BRECHT. P 1993 4AD

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T h e U b i q u i t o u s m r L o v e g r o v e

I thought that you knew it al l. . . Well you've seen i t ten t imes before.I thought that you had i t down with both your feet on the g round.I love s low, s low but deep.Feig ned affect ions wash over me.Dream on my dear and renounce temporal obl igations.Dream on my dear. . . i t ' s a s leep from which you may not awaken.

You build me up then you knock me down.You play the fool while I play the c lown.We keep t ime to the beat of an old s lave dr um.You raise my hopes then you raise the oddsYou te l l me that I dream too much.Now I'm ser ving t ime in dis i l lus ionment.

I don't be l ieve you anymore. . . I don't be l ieve you.

I thought that I knew it al l. . . I 'd seen al l the s ig ns before.I thought that you were the one. . . in darkness my heart was won.

You build me up then you knock me down.You play the fool while I play the c lown.We keep t ime to the beat of an old s lave dr um.You raise my hopes then you raise the odds.You te l l me that I dream too muchNow I'm ser ving t ime in a domestic g raveyard.

I don't be l ieve you anymore. . . I don't be l ieve you.

Never let i t be said I was untr ue, I never found a home inside of you.Never let i t be said I was untr ue - I gave you al l my t ime.

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T h e Wi n d t h a t S h a k e s t h e B a r l e y

I sat within the val ley g reenI sat me with my tr ue love.My sad heart s trove the two betweenThe old love and the new love.The old for her, the newThat made me think of Ireland dearlyWhile soft of the wind blew down the g ladeand shook the golden barley.

‘ Twas hard the woeful words to frameTo break the t ie s that bound us.But harder s t i l l to bear the shameof foreig n chains around us.And so I said, “ The mountain glenI ’ l l meet at mor ning earlyAnd I ’ l l join the bold united men,”While soft winds shook the barley.

‘ Twas sad I kis sed away her tearsMy fond arm round her f l inging.When a foe, man ’s shot burst on our earsFrom out the wild woods r ingingA bullet pierced my tr ue love ’s s ideIn l i fe s young spring so early.And on my breast in blood she diedWhile soft winds shook the barley

But blood for blood without remorseI ’ve ta ’en at Oulart Hollow.I ’ve lain my tr ue love ’s c lay l ike corpseWhere I ful l soon must fo l low.Around her g rave I ’ve wandered drearNoon, night and mor ning early.With breaking heart when e ’er I hearThe wind that shakes the barley.

T h e C a r n i v a l i s O v e r

OutsideThe s torm clouds gathering,moved s i lent ly along the dusty boulevard.Where f lowers tur ning crane their fragi le necks.So they can in tur n reach up and kis s the sky.

They are driven by a s trange des ire.Unseen by the human eye, someone i s cal l ing.

I remember when you held my hand andIn the park we would play when the c ircus came to town.L ook! Over here.

OutsideThe c ircus gathering,moved s i lent ly along the rainswept boulevard.The proces s ion moved on the shouting i s over.The fabulous freaks are leaving town.

They are driven by a s trange des ire.Unseen by the human eye.The carinval i s over.

We sat and watched as the moon rose againfor the ver y first t ime.

S a l d e k

Towa r d s t h e Wi t h i nSTAGE SET BY JOHN SHERWIN6

T e l l M e A b o u t T h e F o r e s t( y o u o n c e c a l l e d h o m e )

Farewell now my s i s ter.Up ahead there l ie s your road.Your conscience walks bes ide you.It ' s the best fr iend you wil l ever know.The past i s now your future,It bears witness to your soul.Make sure that the love you offer updoes not fal l on barren soi l.

For the wind cries of late In the whispering g rass.Our way of l i fe i s held In the spinning wheels of chance.

I bel ieve in the ways of an older law.When we used to dance to a different dr um,and we are changing our ways.Yes we are taking on different roads.Tel l me more about the forest that you once cal led home.

For the wind cries of late in the whispering leaves,and the sun wil l tur n to waste the heavens we build above.

Father teach your chi ldren to treat our mother wel l.If we give her back her diamonds she wil l offer up her pearl.

But I 'm not bitter, no I 'm sur viving.To face the world, to raise the future.So why don't you te l l me, come on and te l l me.About the world you left behind.Come on and te l l me.

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H o w F o r t u n a t e t h e M a n w i t h N o n e

You saw sagacious SolomanYou know what came of him,To him complexit ies seemed plain.He cursed the hour that gave birth to himAnd saw that ever ything was vain.How g reat and wise was Soloman.The world however did not waitBut soon obser ved what fol lowed on.It ’s wisdom that had brought him this s tate.How fortunate the man with none.

You saw courageous Caesar nextYou know what he became,They deif ied him in his l i feThen had him murdered just the same.And as they raised the fatal knifeHow loud he cried: you too my son!The world however did not waitBut soon obser ved what fol lowed on.It ’s courage that had brought him to that s tate.How fortunate the man with none.

You heard of honest SocratesThe man who never l ied:They weren ’ t so g rateful as you ’d thinkInstead the r ulers f ixed to have him triedAnd handed him the poisoned drink.How honest was the people ’s noble son.The world however did not waitBut soon obser ved what fol lowed on.It ’s honesty that brought him to that s tate.How fortunate the man with none.

Here you can see respectable fo lkKeeping to God ’s own laws.So far he hasn ’ t taken heed.You who s i t safe and warm indoorsHelp to re l ieve our bitter need.How virtuously we had begun.The world however did not waitBut soon obsereved what fol lowed on.It ’s fear of god that brought us to that s tate.How fortunate the man with none.

‘HOW FORTUNATE THE MAN WITH NONE’ C 1940, 1968, 1980 BRECHT MUSIC CO. C 1993 BRECHT MUSIC CO./ UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBL ISH ING / MOMENTUM 3

8C 2008 4AD www.4ad.com

The 1993 release saw the leaders of Dead Can Dance,Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard. embark on moreindividual personal paths. While Into the Labyrinth,their first U.S. release of all-new material, was considered acommercial breakthrough (it was 4AD’s best-selling recordat a million copies worldwide, and counting!), it is also theirmost divided. They both wrote songs independent of oneanother – on separate continents.

Up to that point, the band’s releases had been hotcommodities in U.S. import bins and their only availableAmerican release, the compilation A Passage in Time, hadsold well over 100,000 copies.

This album was written and performed by Brendan andLisa with the exception of ‘The Wind That Shakes theBarley’ (words and music by Dr. Robert Dwyer Joyce), and‘How Fortunate the Man With None’ (words by BertoltBrecht from the play, Mother Courage). The album wasengineered and produced by Brendan at his QuivvyChurch studio in Ireland. Brendan and Lisa, whosecontrasting vocal styles (his medieval croon, hershimmering purity) were set against a curio shop of musicalinspiration that spanned everything from the 12th to the20th Century, from Gregorian chants, to Scott Walker.Dead Can dance was also featured in the soundtrack to thefilm Baraka, the 70mm epic made by Ron Fricke and MarkMagidson. The film included ‘The Host of Seraphim’ fromthe group’s 1988 album, The Serpent’s Egg.