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about

A blend of traditional and acoustic instruments, married with raw and emotionally charged lyrics and melody.

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released August 18, 2016

Produced by: Nightingale Cummings & Dave Gunning

Culp’s Hill - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings
Fiddle: J.P. Cormier

Holding My Breath - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings
Piano: Cathy Porter

Watching Amy - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings
Banjo: Dave Gunning
Accordion: Cathy Porter

Show me the Artist - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings

What to Say - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings
All other: J.P. Cormier

Odds and Ends - Guitar and voice: Nightingale Cummings
Piano: Cathy Porter
Cello: Tim Isaac

Special Thanks to: Dave Gunning, J.P. Cormier, Cathy Porter, Tim Isaac, Chris Chisholm, Mike Smith, J.P. Tremblay, Robb Wells, Gary Howsam, Nicole & Patrick Dooley and the entire cast and crew of TPB’s for their friendship, contribution, support and advice, that played a special role in making this possible.

Another Special Thanks to my great friends: Walter Mason, (and all the band-mates & musicians along the way), Derek & Angie Landry and family, Jenny Malloy & family (Frasers included!), extended Malloy families, Billy Rhude, Joe Landry, Andrew Roy and their families, Ben & Stephanie Andrew and family, the Entire “MacInnis Family”(Gary, Dotty, Troy, Shane, Leigh, & Devon), Ashley George, Rob & Tracy Roran and Family, Dennis and Bernadette Vint, Jennifer, Max and Bonnie Frosst and to my son Keegan, my family, and many others too numerous to name.

All songs written by Nightingale Cummings
Album photo - Chis Chisholm

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about

Nightingale Cummings Halifax, Nova Scotia

Nightingale Cummings is a singer songwriter from Nova Scotia, Canada.
Noticed first by Trailer Park Boy’s Mike Smith, his songs have been featured in a number of “Swearnet” productions. With the help of folk musicians: Dave Gunning, J.P. Cormier, Cathy Porter and Tim Isaac, he has released the first in a series of EP’s - Titled 1. ... more

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Track Name: Culp's Hill
Culp’s Hill

I pressed two flowers in a bible
Searched the fields for tokens
I count the petals when I’m idle
I’ve learned there’s value on the broken

Became a student of the game
And what I know I’ll teach no other
Some around me have learned the same
To turn a hand against a brother

Now I’ll take Culp’s Hill
Trade my Enfield for a blade and again…
Turn my hand back to making hay

I met a man in torn clothing
Said he’d laid rail in West Virginia
He feeds the horses in the morning
Prays he’ll walk from Pennsylvania

In the sky... I see,
No bird in flight above the haunting fields
Business of men and hell and wanting
And the voice of them
The devil steals. No god can help ya
To canons heard in Philadelphia

We’ll take Culp’s hill
And I’ll trade my Enfield for a blade and again...
Turn my hand back to making hay

Lay me in a field
A broken seal, a fair warning
A sign of stone to mark the day
Tell them how we’d greet the morning.
Track Name: Holding My Breath
Holding My Breath

You and me, we’re both free to leave if it’s broken
And by now after all who’s to blame
Maybe me, that’s always been the same soft spoken
Maybe you, that’s finally through, and gave up the game
Look at me when I’m talking
You haven’t heard a word from me in years

So shut your mouth and turn around
We’re gonna do this thing now
No, no, I ain’t finished with you at all…

You never knew when to just drop it
And when it fell all the hell would rip through here
And in my turn, I never learned the words that might stop it
Until the years left lines across my face

And now I know all these things are the things that I could never say
Cause I’d been holding my breath and I guess
It was easier that way

But I can breathe when I want to
I can wait you out however long
For what’s left, that clings to my bones for the moment that...
It’s grown old, cold enough to know to take its flesh

And for the cost of a pound,
I get to stumble around until I fall
No, no, I ain’t finished with you at all

Where’s my coat, my keys and my wallet?
While I’m here, where’s the years you took from me?
And where’s that person you promised?
Are they gone? Long far away from this place

Where’s they’re touch and they’re sound
Is there anything now behind the wall
There I go holding my breath to see if anything’s left in this at all.
Track Name: Watching Amy
Watching Amy

Young woman why have you come?
“My belly’s full and my weaving’s done.
I need a break from my man and maybe my son.”

Take this flower and wash the stem
Sew the petals up into your hem
And rest there a while like a priceless gem

And dream of all you ever wanted to be

If all I can lose is my mind
…and all is better than this
Might be better than this
If all I can change is the time
Then it’s all worth while for watching Amy

Can you feel the rain on Monday
Can it wake your heart or wash you away

Old man with your burlap sack
Containing the dreams you once had stacked
High up and hard... now they lay on your back

Well I heard you say there’s always pain
To trade your dreams for what remains
Or for a memory
Of a soft exchange

If all I can lose is my mind
Then all is better than this
Might be better than this
If all I can change is the time
Then it’s all worth while for watching Amy
Track Name: Show Me The Artist
Show me the artist

Show me the artist that can draw... out conclusions
On wisdom and pages
And has he got the knowledge to pass through all of these
Gardens and tunnels and stages
Tell him or her
That I got something else to turn
Besides a profit or a cheek or a back
And I got something else to burn
Besides my bridges or my passion
Or my witches or my actions
Besides my extraordinary fear of your reaction

That’s fine, stay in line, lose time, that’s mine
Man… you’re far too kind
I know it hurts but it’s in the plan and I’m a fan so pay the man
Look now Ma… no hands…

Show me the artist that can draw out conclusions
On wisdom and pages
And has he got the knowledge to pass through all of these
Gardens and tunnels and stages
Tell him or her
Track Name: What To Say
What to say

Trying the best, that I can with the things I have
Do more with less, and I’m careful on what I spend
Look at the mess that I’ve managed to get myself in
All over again

Cause I got the hang of it right off the bat again
Got everything out of place and can’t get it back again
And I don’t know, I don’t know what to say anymore
No no… wrap me up and give a knock
And leave me laying out by her door

I did what you said. I organized everything
Got numbers and names. Got columns, rows to put them in
But look at the mess that I managed to get myself in
All over again

Cause I got the hang of it right off the bat again
Got everything out of place and can’t get it back again
And I don’t know, I don’t know what to say anymore
No no… wrap me up and give a knock
And leave me laying out by her door

Trying not to do the things that don’t work no more
Like when there’s nothing in something and thinking there’s something more
But look at the mess that I’m in like I was before
All over again

Cause I got the hang of it right off the bat again
Got everything out of place and can’t get it back again
And I don’t know, I don’t know what to say anymore
No no… wrap me up and give a knock
And leave me laying out by her door
Track Name: Odds and Ends
Odds and ends

I’ve written things,
Thoughts threaded onto strings.
I’ve pinned words, to fifths and thirds,
Until barely heard… I need to cover things.

But now and then,
Your name comes up again.
and I am lost to find
a single thing to say, before the moment ends.

And I see your face,
And other things I tried to chase
From my mind, that vine I prune…
Part of you each year is back in place.

Do you think I’m trying to sew some silver lining
to the sky today?
Well you’re wrong, it’s just a song I made,

Just because I never stopped,
Loving things I never got,
Doesn’t mean that simple things,
are lost on me… like somehow I forgot.

Cause I’ve been told, many times,
“just change your mind. It’s all it takes.”
But I’m no fool.
I’m well aware of all the rules to the game.

But I’m a maker of things that are sold to richer men.
I write them down so they come up again,
And I can stay among the things that I had then.

But I’ve been wrong,
to live in verses of a song.
Believing things, that no one else will ever sing
until all the years have gone.

And then there’s friends,
they talk about those years and how long it’s been.
They don’t know… but then again…
I probably show that long ago I’d given in…

And I am tossed into a bin like spare cloth and loose ends.
Lost in the thoughts I let myself pretend,
And all along you’ve grown roots, sprouted your fruits, and have your garden to tend.