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1.
It was a stormy day in Liverpool Bay As the Viking fleet headed home They pitched and yawed in the thund’rous roar Their sails grew tattered and torn As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day They’d traded with the Irish for livestock and hides For gold, tin and copper with the Cornish Celts They had solid blocks of salt from the Cheshire mines And fleeces from the foothills of the Welsh Then they’d headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day The nine daughters of the waves were the billow maidens Who wildly danced through that winter night Their mother, Rán, had her drowning net with her And the sky was filled with fire As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy night The swell was huge and the sky was grim On the mighty surge Rán pulled them in As drunk old Ægir stirred the briny broth He smashed the fleet apart on the Wirral rocks And took nine score young warriors back To a grave beneath the waves To drink golden mead in the coral caves Of Runcorn Gap
2.
It was a stormy day in Liverpool Bay As the Viking fleet headed home They pitched and yawed in the thund’rous roar Their sails grew tattered and torn As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day They’d traded with the Irish for livestock and hides For gold, tin and copper with the Cornish Celts They had solid blocks of salt from the Cheshire mines And fleeces from the foothills of the Welsh Then they’d headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day The nine daughters of the waves were the billow maidens Who wildly danced through that winter night Their mother, Rán, had her drowning net with her And the sky was filled with fire As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy night The swell was huge and the sky was grim On the mighty surge Rán pulled them in As drunk old Ægir stirred the briny broth He smashed the fleet apart on the Wirral rocks And took nine score young warriors back To a grave beneath the waves To drink golden mead in the coral caves Of Runcorn Gap
3.
4.
It was a stormy day in Liverpool Bay As the Viking fleet headed home They pitched and yawed in the thund’rous roar Their sails grew tattered and torn As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day They’d traded with the Irish for livestock and hides For gold, tin and copper with the Cornish Celts They had solid blocks of salt from the Cheshire mines And fleeces from the foothills of the Welsh Then they’d headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day The nine daughters of the waves were the billow maidens Who wildly danced through that winter night Their mother, Rán, had her drowning net with her And the sky was filled with fire As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy night The swell was huge and the sky was grim On the mighty surge Rán pulled them in As drunk old Ægir stirred the briny broth He smashed the fleet apart on the Wirral rocks And took nine score young warriors back To a grave beneath the waves To drink golden mead in the coral caves Of Runcorn Gap
5.
It was a stormy day in Liverpool Bay As the Viking fleet headed home They pitched and yawed in the thund’rous roar Their sails grew tattered and torn As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day They’d traded with the Irish for livestock and hides For gold, tin and copper with the Cornish Celts They had solid blocks of salt from the Cheshire mines And fleeces from the foothills of the Welsh Then they’d headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day The nine daughters of the waves were the billow maidens Who wildly danced through that winter night Their mother, Rán, had her drowning net with her And the sky was filled with fire As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy night The swell was huge and the sky was grim On the mighty surge Rán pulled them in As drunk old Ægir stirred the briny broth He smashed the fleet apart on the Wirral rocks And took nine score young warriors back To a grave beneath the waves To drink golden mead in the coral caves Of Runcorn Gap
6.
It was a stormy day in Liverpool Bay As the Viking fleet headed home They pitched and yawed in the thund’rous roar Their sails grew tattered and torn As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day They’d traded with the Irish for livestock and hides For gold, tin and copper with the Cornish Celts They had solid blocks of salt from the Cheshire mines And fleeces from the foothills of the Welsh Then they’d headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy day The nine daughters of the waves were the billow maidens Who wildly danced through that winter night Their mother, Rán, had her drowning net with her And the sky was filled with fire As they headed home Headed home Headed home Headed home on a stormy night The swell was huge and the sky was grim On the mighty surge Rán pulled them in As drunk old Ægir stirred the briny broth He smashed the fleet apart on the Wirral rocks And took nine score young warriors back To a grave beneath the waves To drink golden mead in the coral caves Of Runcorn Gap

about

Six distinctive mixes of a narrative song about Norse gods and death by drowning

credits

released June 21, 2014

Pete Jinks - guitar, vocals, percussion
Pete Muldoon - bass
Andy Fernihough - drums, percussion, samples
Paul Carroll - additional sound effects

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about

Pete Jinks Runcorn, UK

Pete Jinks studied guitar and bass at London's ICMP. He previously led the exploratory outfit Errol Nomad and the Random Tandem. Currently releasing new material under his own name, still mixing the exploratory and the mainstream.

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