Have Plenty of Fun

by Fake Major

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03:22
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credits

released May 1, 2013

All songs by Ferguson/McGinty.

Recorded at Old Mill Studios by Marshall Craigmyle. Mixed and additional production by Andrew Bush. Mastered by Iain Cook.

Additional instrumentation: Cat Calton, Kieran Heather, Fergus MacDonald, Pete MacDonald, and Mike Truscott.

Cover image: Richard Crawford. Line drawing: Alison Stell. Model: Ruby Crawford.

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Fake Major Glasgow, UK

A four-armed singer songwriter.

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Track Name: Little Researcher
Little researcher chart it all up,
Plot it on a graph of what you've found and all of the things you've seen,
From the insects to the stars, you collect them in a jar,
Where you've kept them all,
What if they're the same as what you are

Like Mother said, child, she said 'I love you, sure, but I don't know'
(She said 'I love you, sure')
Like Mother said, child 'The world is made of what you are',
'The world is made of what you are'

Sure as all our cells divide,
One day we ourselves will die, though we might not know why,
But child unfurl your sunken brow for we'll get older as from now,
So accept it all, It's not as if it matters anyhow

Like Mother said, child, she said 'I love you, sure, but I don't know'
(She said 'I love you, sure')
Like Mother said, child 'The world is made of what you are',
'The world is made of what you are'

Oooh these are just shadows of the leaves,
You can chase them if you need to,
But they still fall from the trees
Track Name: Fiction
From sugar paper hearts through all the false starts
to Valentine's cards we bought but never earned

Not that I deserve all of your respect
Command it and I get it all that never works, I've learned

There's no time to find love inside these walls
Set the clocks to all chime but never reach their tocks

Did you ever stop to think that you're alive
Or that it won't be long before you up and die?
Was it a fiction because you lived a lie?
Just promise you're at home tonight

If I call you we'd try to work things out
We only make it worse,
and stories never end if everyone ignores each page after the first

So go and tell the children they're all on their own
So better act tough, better smart up, better get full grown

Did you ever stop to think that you're alive
Or that it won't be long before you up and die?
Was it a fiction because you lived a lie?
Just promise you're at home tonight

Did you ever stop to think that you're alive
Or that it won't be long before you up and die?
Was it a fiction?
You swore that I would be the last thing you wear
But if I come rushing back and you're not even there
Just promise you're alone tonight
Track Name: Cotton and Ink
Pull the sheet across your shoulders, form a canvas of perfect scale
And I will draw onto your body a map in full detail

But with every mark I make I seem to cover what lies beneath
And once they've been made those lines can't be erased
'Til your body's been mapped and defined

Each attempt I make with these dilettante's hands isn't faithful enough
But as close as i'll ever get is a sketch that looks awkward and rough

But with every mark I make I seem to cover what lies beneath
And once they've been made those lines can't be erased
'Til your body's been mapped and defined

The cotton and ink won't even begin
To capture the grace that's wrapped up within

See those lines transform in time,
Though I can't get it

I'll be tracing lines 'til the map collapses,
I'll be tracing lines 'til the map collapses,
I'll be tracing lines 'til the map collapses or you do
Track Name: Love in the Mundane
Gather all of our notes together, left on Post-its around our home,
An epistolary, called Love in the Mundane

In a series of purloined glances from the top of the page I'm pretending
to read I catch you smiling to yourself.

Remember that:
All the love that you take is borrowed and won't be yours to break
As long as there's someone who can make it go away

Pretend that we are all old and scrawny, like we were both drawn by Quentin Blake,
The shoes on our bedroom floor are dancing a waltz .

The autumn days we spent kicking acorns, the summer we spent indoors,
All the steps of our weekend dance, our attempts at romance

Remember that:
All the love that you take is borrowed and won't be yours to break
As long as there's someone who can make it go away

You kick the crutch from 'neath crippled heart
And all stupid things that we said at start
We're only disguise the words that we didn't know

All of the sentimental ruse you learned but but never get to use,
You said you don't know who to blame but love in the mundane.

There's no fall from high trapeze, and there's no begging on bended knees,
Just two sets of skin that feel the same in love in the mundane