When I was a toe head lad
Knee high to my father
They sang about the old brigades
And toasted to their honor
But now's the time of hungry men
The battle lines are laid
So raise a glass, get off your ass
To the Bairns of the New Brigade
Forty years, a trail of tears
The tightened chains that bind us
A lot of talk and regal walk
And bugger all behind us
What remains of the old Sinn Fein
A marketing charade
Now the Royal Fop sent a mob to stop
The Bairns of The New Brigade
Where has the time gone
Where are the lines
Who are the shining ones,
who Feel the times a changing'
The drill to zero hour
They rise and face a power
A beacon and a tower
Droning on and on and on and on
I heard it in the kitchen
And I heard it in the halls
The bills have all been painted
They're putting out the calls
Once more this time for winning
And when the end is made
They'll sing new songs of glory
To the Bairns of The New Brigade
A new EP from Low Leaf expands on the wide-ranging and intoxicating jazz and ambient fusion that defined her earlier work. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 3, 2024