The Naked Truth Vol 2

by Ian Bruce

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Ian's second venture into the simple one man and his guitar....ish. This time there's frequently his own second guitar and harmony.


released July 1, 2004

Ian Sings and plays everything.


all rights reserved


Track Name: Labyrinth of Chance
(Ian M. Bruce)

Muster, muster, stand before me now
All you who are blessed by birth
Through me alone your future shall unfold
And its quantities of misery and mirth
Some through me shall gingerly tread
Some may run, skip or dance
Whatever way, you must take what you can
From me . . . the Labyrinth of Chance.

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, from me, the Labyrinth of Chance.

Go with open eyes through my tunnels of light
In the footsteps of those gone before
But go with caution if my abysses are dark
For it may be danger you explore
By ploughing dark some may harvest light
Dictating the sidle or prance
Or tardy adventurers who are seeking their rewards
In me . . . the Labyrinth of Chance.

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, from me, the Labyrinth of Chance.

Awaiting shortcuts?
Now don't you wait too long
My walls are tough, they rarely yield
Don't go seeking for my lucky breaks
I keep them well concealed
I can't deny I have some in store
If you sprint or you cannily advance
There are few who don't earn their quality of life
In me, ... the Labyrinth of Chance.

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, from me, the labyrinth of chance.

So enter by my front door
And a few by my side
And make of me what you will
I wish you confidence and a presence of mind
And a great ambition to fulfil
But before that last great tunnel you traverse
In retrospect I want you to glance
How many tunnels did you light on your way
Through me . . . the Labyrinth of Chance?

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, through me, The Labyrinth of Chance.
Track Name: Stan The Singer
(Ian M. Bruce)

The lazy, the tryers, the honest and liars,
Ladies and children can all die in fires.
Blame won't discern for the ones it admires.
An artist can die without warning.
And if he's a singer and writer of songs,
There's tears where he never knew he belonged.
Space in the hearts of his audience forms
A space for the singer.

Now I'm sure you will find, on the brink of your mind,
A singer of stature, his name underlined.
Your loyalty won't let him be undermined;
His music's so good he deserves this
But who is the man with the short cut career
Whose songs rise above those of most of his peers!
Whose voice is constantly fresh in my ears!
Stan Rogers the singer.

His songs are embroideries with words neatly sewn.
His needle of melody stitches so strong.
Deep coloured threads are his bellowing tones
Singing songs of seas, ships and lovers.
Stan Rogers now, he's dead I regret
A giant cut down by a lit cigarette?
The flames took the man we ne'er shall forget.
Stan Rogers the singer.

Do do do da da da de de de 'n' de etc

He's gone to the sun with a million and one
Of his unwritten songs that will never be sung.
But, in his music, he's left us a 'son'
Who sings as if from the heavens,
For when he sings, 'the father' comes down
And lives once again here with us on the ground.
You're moved along by the undying sound
Of Stan Rogers the singer.
Track Name: Bizzie Lizzie
(Ian M. Bruce)

Lizzie lived in the first house past Peebles Drive.
It changed into Lauder around the time that Lizzie died.
She'd walk by and "Hello" we'd say;
Sometimes I'd run away.

She'd be bewildered, sometimes annoyed.
Sometimes I'd greet her, sometimes avoid;
Running, hiding behind the wall
Till we didn't talk at all. . .

I'm sorry Lizzie,
Bizzie Lizzie.
If I could only explain.
I'm sorry Lizzie, ever Bizzie Lizzie,
But I'm never gonna see you again.

There was a raincoat I hated to wear.
For this old mackintosh I didn't care.
Don't look now, I don't want you to see
This old raincoat on me.


Lizzie lived in the first house past Peebles Drive.
It changed into Lauder around the time that Lizzie died.
She'd walk by and "Hello" we'd say.
Sometimes I'd run away.

Track Name: Speakin' Free
(Ian M. Bruce)

Speakin' Free - good to hear
Speakin' Free - good to hear
Cross my heart, I hope to die.
We are eye to eye for the first time.

Best of friends - sometimes asunder
Unspoken thoughts make me wonder.
What makes you tick?
How I wished I was psychic
To understand you.

I've known you so long
You were always strong.
Too strong to fall
Not so strong as that wall that surrounds you


Now this change is kinda strange
Good to see you're no different from me.
Broken bricks lie on the ground
Fists of Steel smashed them down. Good for you!
Let me welcome you through,
It's good to know ya.

Track Name: Recovery
(Ian M. Bruce)

Music surrounds me! It fills the air.
Golden pagodas spark sunlight everywhere.
A cathedral dome above me
So wondrous to see.
There's a freedom in my fingers
An awakening in me.

And the dawn drifts through the window
On a gentle breath of change
The sky in streaks of colour only nature could arrange.
Turquoise, blue and amber
The darkness turns to light
I am gratefully transported from the cold and dismal night.

Thank you for loving me
For I did not have the strength to fight alone.

So I throw off my duvet
A crumbled prison wall
I bathe in the peace of mind that greets me in the hall.
The back door just a skin twixt the new born day and I
Which yields to floods of springtime beneath an autumn sky.

Great gulps of daylight and O they taste so good
My appetite's returning and it's crying out for food.
So I fix myself some breakfast, a little tea and toast.
A tear behind my teacup and a wiggle in my toes.

And I step into the forest, less dense now than it was
The branches thick behind me as they interweave and cross.
As I head for open space I slowly bend to take
Solace in reflections I cast upon the lake.

But still a tinge of golden where the eyes were pearly white
Though heartened by improvements delivered in the night.
I am tired now I have strayed a little further than I should.
I rest my weary head at the edge of this dark wood.

Track Name: All or Nothing
(Ian M. Bruce)

You poached my freinds.
Some ask about you.
Some think we're one.
I think you want them to.
Sure I like you
And you've been good to me.
But you come on too strong
And I can't let that be.

It's all or nothing
And you're forcing me to choose. It's all or nothing
And 'All" is going to lose.

Go on deny it.
Pretend you're squeaky clean.
Spin your famous line
"I don't know what you mean!"
Phone my mother.
Tell her I'm bad.
Then fail to understand why I get mad.


Stop trying to touch me.
Stop trying to mother me.
Stop trying to kiss me.
Stop!...Smothering me.

Gimme some credit.
I see through your plan.
And I will dodge your little trap
In any way I can.
No I won't kiss you when you call.
Well now I would say..
"That 'bout says it all."

Track Name: No Noise
(Ian M. Bruce)

Bustling people, they're driving me crazy
I was thinking, "I'm never gonna see home"
I must lie down for an hour being lazy
i must have some time on my own

Straight lines of sunlight go somewhere behind me
A speck of dust moves so slow
In and out of the light it's drifting
Like me, it finds nowhere to go.

No noise, no noise, no noise
No noise, no noise, no noise.

Outside my windows a bush in the breeze
Creates a hypnotic display
Somewhere in the distance,
The tap of a hammer
But it must be a mile away.

A ringing phone could shatter this silence
So disconnect from the wall
And a knock on the door
Could send my heart racing
I only hope no-one will call

My eyes grow heavy,
Soon they'll be closing
Sourceless hissing surrounds
All things tranquil make their contribulion
While me and the sun go down.
Track Name: When The Bough Breaks
(Ian M. Bruce/Ian J.Walker)

Innocence won't see
The twisting of the tree.
Or how the trusted oak
Bent before it broke.

Running home from school
Brimmed with news to tell
But why the locked front door
And the need to ring the bell?
Seconds pass like hours
A neighbour lets her in
But how d'ya tell a child?
Where do you begin?


No-one will ever know
How a heart can ache
Till they're left alone
When the bough breaks.

But heartaches gave her strength
To find her own way through
And from a broken bough
Another oak tree grew.

Track Name: Corners
(Ian M. Bruce/Ian J. Walker)

Singing Na Na Na, etc.
In the corner of a country,
In the corner of a town,
In the corner of his room,
There's a man sitting down
In restful preparation for another working day,
And his little shop downstairs is a million miles away,
For the evening.

The lights shine on Broadway,
Man lands on the moon,
Paul Simon writes American Tune.
The big world rolls on by.
A different way is waiting
But he never thinks to try.

So, in the corner of a country,
In the corner of a town,
In the corner of his room. .'' '
There's a man sitting down.
And if the notion takes him
There's a jigsaw on the go,
Or his unwitting fingers just work remote control For the T.V.
And he just sings

Na Na Na etc.

In the corner of a country,
In the corner of a town,
In the corner of an office,
There's a girl sitting down.
Everyday she sits with her fingers on the keys.
When she's not typing she's making cups of tea,
Sometimes coffee.

Big Yellow Taxi, Well it Drove 0l' Dixie Down.
"You've got a friend", in every town.
Where fingers play piano
Admiration flares.
Fingers typing memos, no-one really cares.
So, in the corner of a country, In the corner of a town,
In the corner of an office,
There's a girl sitting down.
Does it never get her down ?
Does she never want to show
There's so much to this girl no-one will ever know?
It's locked inside her.
And she just sings

Na Na Na etc.

In the corner of this country,
In the corner of this town,
In the corner of this room,
Is there someone who's singing Na Na Na etc.?
Track Name: Lincoln and My Brothers
(Ian M. Bruce)

I tried to grab a handful to take to my heart.
There's nothing here for me to hold.
No love to grasp, no ghosts from the past
And not a single memory to guide me.

On these terraced streets
My brothers used to play.
That was long before I was born.
I never saw them kick a ball
Against the red brick walls
Nor trudging off to school in the morning.

"Bonny" was the cat.
They were very fond of 'that!'
In later years they told me all about him.
How he'd followed them around..
A bit more like a hound.
There's no photograph of "Bonny"
And no album.

Lincoln and my brothers saw my parents' younger days.
An older mum speaks fondly of Bampa
I wrap her words so tightly round..
Like a loose fitting hand-me-down
As she tells me of his kind and gentle nature.

I'm like some anxious yankee with his book on history.
Probing for postion in the past.
But this past was never mine.
I'm simply from a different time.
With heavy heart..
I may as well go home.
Track Name: Yours For The Night
(Ian M. Bruce/Sandy Stanage)

The stage it is your altar
The hall the palm of your hand.
Your fingers fold around me
And my world turns to sand.
Which trickles through your fingers
As you sing me songs and tales
That let me feel your sweet soft breath
And the sharpness of your nails.

Do you use those eyes to hypnotise?
Where d'ya get the power to shine?
You give no more than you want to
Now I'm yours for the night and you're mine.
Those angry eyes.
Those lovely eyes.

There's no sound in the hall
Except your mystical song.
I could have heard a pin drop
And yet far less a bomb.
And though a hall apart,
You've become so strangely close.
You're singing from a cloud of light To which I am exposed.


And now the concert's over
Applause invites you to stay.
You gimme one more encore which I humbly take away.
But still your secret's safe
I was too engrossed to see.
That magic spell you cast so well
Remains a mystery.

Track Name: Lonely Old Lady
(Ian M. Bruce)

She's a lonely old lady
She sits by her fire
Scorching her legs as the flames dance higher.
Reflections in specs of a flickering screen.
Her favourite programme again is unseen.
She's been snoozing.
MmmH! Snoozing.

But has she been sleeping for one hour or two?
She fumbles from sleep.
She finds little to do.
But glance at the phone which infrequently rings.
Hum unwritten songs
She frequently sings

La la la la.
La la la lonely
She's lonely
La la la lonely.

Then speakin' out loud she says
"Don't be so lazy!"
Mobility isn't so easy these days.
She shuffles her way past last month's mag.
To a wintry kitchen and a one cup teabag.
She's lonely
La la la lonely. Lonely.
La la la lonely.

There's an old shoe box
And it's tied round with string.
Creased black and whites.
She got Brownies within.
But the prized Polaroids, they adorn the piano.
Grandchildren's silent "Hello!"
Grandchildren's silent "Hello!"

All lights out but one on the bedside table.
No more late nights.
She's no longer able.
Just one more day put to memory's store.
She lies there wondering "How many more?"
She's lonely
La la la lonely.

Her mind's eye sees the shoebox untied.
Prized Polaroids join the Brownies inside.
The faces drift past her bed as they go.
Grandchildren's last cheerio.
Grandchildren's last cheerio
Track Name: A Dollar a Dream
(Ian M. Bruce)

Daddy can't buy you a brand new car;
Not with things the way they are,
See this ticket in my hand,
This is our ticket to the promised land.
This is our ticket to the promised land.

One little dollar, that's all it cost,
So if it don't win there's not much lost,
If it don't bring peaches and cream,
You can't grudge a dollar a dream.
You can't grudge a dollar a dream.

Daddy can't take you on a Concorde plane,
But he'll take you to the seaside now and again,
But if these winning numbers fall,
I'll take you round the world till you've seen it all.
I'll take you round the world till you've seen it all.


You can't buy love. We all know that,
But that's one thing we've already got,
What more could we want when we've got love?
But Money! Money! Money!
And lots and lots of!!!!!!

Track Name: Believe In Love
(Ian M. Bruce/Iain J. Murray)

You have to believe in love
Believe and want to change
You have to live your life around love.

You gaze from your window
On another rainy day
The telephone rings
You hear your friend say
"Aint you glad that I rang?"


You tell me your dreams
And how they don't come true
You tell me how it seems
That life is leaving you behind

Those who never seek, they rarely find
Their counterpart of the loving kind Fools may say
I don't really mind
I Don't really mind
So look to your dreams
See that some have come true Run for your life
Don't you know it won't run to you?

Track Name: The Ladies Left Behind
(Ian M. Bruce)

"Where are all the gentlemen?"
The question crossed my mind.
For here we have their widows,
The ladies left behind.
They've all come to the party,
To sit down in a row
Of sad eyes saying "Nowhere else to go".

The ladies don't take to the floor.
The ladies don't dance any more.

"Is there still ambition?"
The question crossed my mind.
"Did they grow too old to dream?"
The ladies left behind.
"Is there still steel will frailty denies?
Have they yielded to time
As it ever faster flies?"


"And who will be waiting?"
The question crossed my mind.
"Who will kiss the tears from
Will their loved ones greet them
At some great golden gate?
Will Peter hear them shout
"Hey, this was worth the wait?"


Many years have passed
Since these questions crossed my mind,
And we've become the ones
That the ladies left behind.
Were their expectations realised
Upon that final call?
For all those little ladies
Was there anything at all?


Maybe they met gentlemen.
Are they somewhere dancing again?
Track Name: The Mind of a Child
(Ian M. Bruce)

He just made a bus from a row of chairs
It's a game he seems to enjoy
Full on top but seats downstairs
So says my little boy
And though there was no one there
From each seat he picked up a fare

It's a curious thing, The Mind of a Child
A world of play and fantasies wild
But let them believe in the man in the moon,
They'll find truth too soon.

Out in the garden playing at ball
He receives a pass from no one at all
He kicks and scores one goal more
I know he heard that Hamden roar

Back in the garden playing at war
"I know what soldiers are fighting for."
With no careful aim, he fires his gun.
"Soldiers are fighting cos fighting is fun."
Track Name: I Can't Sit Still
(Ian M. Bruce)

There's times when I'm doing nothing
My mind just gets taxed.
Even with this so-called doing nothing
I can't relax.
It's worst when I'm alone
And I'm rattling round the house.
I'm best when I'm with my friends
But for one grouse.....

I can't sit still.
There's always something to do
Sometimes I have to sit on my hands.
It's almost like I'm ill.
I can't sit still.
OoooH! I can't sit still.

I am the anxious type
There's lots of us around.
Many 'nervies' just like me Generally 'has' found........

Because there's always something broken
Or something needing cleaned
A letter needing written
Well....You know what I mean.

(Pick up the broom, sweep up the dust Pick up the steel-wool, take off the rust Get to the bank
Pay all the bills
Get it all done...Maybe I will...
Do everything according to plan. Man...Don't you know what I mean?)

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