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You And Me Against The World EP

by The Sleeping Years

From the harbour hill to where the crescent curls, The black water swell, the turning of the world. Strung lights and drunken sounds Glimmer at the edges of your town. We were hiding for so long With everyone else all trying to hold on But that time has gone now – It’s you and me against the… (It’s a) bleak light to figure in, Our hands thrown up against the wind Like mottled masts and lightning bolts, We’ll call up storms to take us far from home. We’ve been running for so long From jaded hearts and broken love All waiting for the ground to open up, Well it’s you and me against the… They’re down on us again, Trying to keep us apart but we’ll refuse to give in For this is it; something we can win – This time. And they’re frozen in this light while they’re marking time For their fears shape them all until they’re rooted to the ground. We’ve been trying for so long Just to be ourselves, to be left alone, Well if everyone is getting slow Then it’s you and me against the world.
This pulse that made you fight upstream Sends the eels to mass and the salmon leap. And on this rock you set your home, The light that leaks from pitch and stone. The floods that came took cattle and earth, A broken wake where the currents turn. And you saw the town when the river froze, The swans at war and the foreign boats. The water pools and your shadow grows long To the tall tales your brothers spun. In the house, lost, where the light grows dim, I leave you now as your journey begins. Borne along by an autumn moon, He’s bearing north, heading for the mouth. The river birds and the falling leaves Open their wings and our heaven’s won. His arms cut through a darkened Bann, In his pale clothes, ghosting along. He took his silences from there And his hands hold the river back.
Little girl, it’s time to go, They’re waiting for you now, Down by the boat to take you to the north, Tie up your hair, colour your nails, And take his name, You light a fire to warm the house again, Draw village wives and churchmen to your gate, Your accent standing you apart. On the hour, dressed for rain, She comes down from the house To feathers and broken blades and on, To the centre of her world Where all the birds wheel around her for all time. The years pass, Your children have gone, you’re rooted to the land, You tie up your hair, got winter in your hands, You’re breaking bread to call them out. And on the hour, dressed for rain, The light retreating to the house, The figures that wander there Are waiting to open up their arms, All her family around her for all time.
You’ve been carrying that word for days, Weighing it up, drawing breath, Finding faults in lines, in the space that’s left, You mouth the sound until it makes no sense. How long have you waited for someone to find you here? You wear your fictions out to the end From false starts to cold trails And leave your letters to speak of you now Through characters, through hooks and tails. How long have you waited for a love to track you down? How long have you waited for someone to find you here? How long have you been this way, Waiting for someone to work you out?


The Guardian: ‘his voice breaks exquisitely between hope and despair in songs that the acoustic guitar was invented for’

Dazed and Confused: ‘a one-man show that owes his lilting metaphysical lyricism to the likes of Nick Drake, Elliot Smith and John Martyn. It's good to know that there are people like him out there’

Stuart Bailie (BBC Radio): ‘just as Sufjan Stevens has been moved to celebrate the quirks and character of the United States, so Dale Grundle is devising his own charts, full of wonder, dread and reverie. Can't wait to see where he takes us next.’

Rolling Stone: ‘a very beautiful mini-album’‘

Hot Press: ‘absolutely gorgeous‘

Time Out: ‘engagingly mournful, melodic song craft'‘


released May 31, 2013

Sleeve design by Pika Pika


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The Sleeping Years London, UK

The Sleeping Years is the solo project for Dale Grundle, formerly of the Catchers.
‘We’re becoming Islands One by One’, showcases Dale’s exquisitely crafted, highly personal songs, influenced by the language and culture of Northern Ireland.

Guardian: ‘his voice breaks exquisitely between hope and despair in songs that the acoustic guitar was invented for’
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