Get all 16 PATRICK FITZGERALD releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Convalescence Songs Live '25 (2026), An Ache in Angerland (2026), Mad As Snow (featuring David McAlmont) (2025), Convalescence (2025), Deciduous Eccentric (2019), Folly (2013), Degenerate Art (2018), Anyone But Yourself / Golden (2017), and 8 more.
1. |
Christopher and His Kind
03:53
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Christophers I know and have known
Derek Richard and James
All the boys names
52 boys in their stance
In their Levis and corduroy pants
Handkerchief code 1983
Christopher street and the Castro beat
US men with this new disease
British kids full of unease
Oh Christopher would they dare crucify you?
With your withering and willowing
Wouldn’t you flop off the cross
Fey sigh and collapse
Looks like Lana Turner’s not alone
We’re all collapsing
And getting up and collapsing
If Derek hadn’t died?
If Klaus hadn’t died?
If Leigh and Jeremy hadn’t died what then?
If Keith and Michel hadn’t died? What then?
Frank is shouting
Joe B’s remembering
Paul is strumming
52 boys humming
Asking Jean, for his thievery
Asking Mark for his thuggery
Asking Joe for his memories
Leather boots outside the IDU
Before the kiss of AZT
Hey hey
Oh Christopher
I would have
For you
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2. |
Imagine Me Gone
04:40
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The flower blooms
The bow ties
Two seconds of a minute melt
That eyeliner leaves eyes desperate
To follow, with fever
Freezer store to candy aisle
The black beard that learnt to stroke itself
You’re a ghost and I’m a ghost
Play the game imagine we’re gone
Walk through walls in thin white sheets
I’m a ghost imagining we’re gone
And you can’t fix it
The flowers fade
Time erased
The lashes bat, uncombed
You remember it was autumn, autumnal
The meeting under floorboards
In the darkness of consent
Where we dared to speak our own names
I’m a ghost and you’re a clown
Play the game imagine we’re gone
Walk through walls in thin white sheets
I’m a ghost imagining me gone
And you can’t fix it. And it’s now.
Dust sheets, mice sleep
You resist, I said lie still
When there’s no one there
You’re to lie still
This clown face
This bow tie
Sympathy bordered black
The beard that now can’t stroke itself
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3. |
A Fingertip Apart
05:01
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Far the stars
How far we are
We’re far apart
As far as the stars
Pale blue dots
Farthering out
How far we’ve flown
Too long alone
Across a billion light years
Lost in fuzzy space
Telescopic distances
We're just dots and dashes
Telegrams of static
Semaphore of space
How to reach out?
How to touch
What once was close
Enough to touch?
A fingertip apart
Infinitely far
Lost amongst the stars
Constellation scars
I’m falling
I tried to reach you
But I was spinning out on
Double helix galaxies
Party planet hop
Dancing at the Big Bang
Balloon birth of Mars
The red from the yellow
The yellow from the blue
I would fall into that void
If you fell with me
Hello nothingness, hello big black star
Hello blank forever
Is that you calling?
Is that you reaching out?
Is that you reaching out to touch
What once was
Close enough to touch?
And time is dancing with itself
Only this one dance
In time and place and space
Are you dancing?
Yes I'm still asking
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4. |
Hard Mask
03:20
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Do the teeth
Do the hair
Do the lacquer
Then the stare
Do the stance
Do the sneer
Then the glance
Shot right back
Do the buzz
Do the comb
Then the rage
At the age of alone
Step into the cold
Take a breath feeling bold
See the crowd collecting tears
See the crowd burn their beards
It’s freezing
There’s a drug-fuelled lad
Machine gun mad
Why’d I come out
When it’s this harsh?
Why’d I come out
Without my hard mask?
Do the nod
To the beat
Cannot fail
In this heat
Take a sip
Make it last
Put the tube
In the guts
This skin’s not so thin
These things slide inside
Can we please stop spinning?
Home
Reach for Revolver
Play something older
Lee Morgan slides over
Spin it
Risk it
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5. |
Leave To Be Gone
04:25
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Some cuts don’t hurt
Some punches just thrill
Sometimes you pain yourself for pleasure
Black swallow on the scar
Black swift on the crease
Little black birds inking out the grief
For what feels like the first time in weeks
Today does not oppress
There is air
There is blue light
There is relief from the metal sky
Air, light, sky…
Something’s lifted, something gone
Something swallowed deep down
A shadow rises, turns to go
Watch the mirror, check the door
Given leave to be gone
Leave to be gone
Teasing out the sting, lancing memory
In the blackbird song late afternoon
Whilst the sun is hot new tingle of joy
Before the summer sinks back
In the soil
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6. |
Somehow We Live
03:48
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What’s the Dutch for courage
What’s the French for fear?
Stuck inside this tiny ward
Overlook the Travelodge
Watch the kid with the NG feed
It’s your turn next
It’s your turn next
But to live, breathe the air
The thrill of it, the mud and spit
To walk the planet or lie quite still
To be and see
To be and feel
Remembering the art show
Flicking your handkerchief
There’s bad art here, and bad art there
As if it might just disappear
And we live
I’m a man screaming in his madness chair
I’m a man gagging, pleading more more more
Put on music drown out the sound
The men are grizzly, the men are loud
Wait for news from a white coat ghost
You can’t go home, eat your toast
We reach and we grasp
As if there were things to hold onto
And we live, somehow we live
The thrill of it
We live, somehow we live
The need to exist
To be this and to be that
It’s quite the task
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7. |
The Map Room
05:28
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I saw you in the map room
Underneath the Netherlands
Followed you down the corridor
Pulling faces at the Bacon
Screaming Pope Innocent
You declare innocence
I can’t stop laughing in this holy place
Shushed in the Sistine
Behind the dark screen
Let’s get ice cream you say
It’s stifling
Gladiator pose
Coliseum rodeo
In the back streets we’re sick
Then we’re well
It’s not killing, it’s thrilling
On the road to Pisa I leant too far over
You got the map out, it covered the distance
Took a wrong turn, took a step back, clumsy me
Hid my face in the marguerites
Shame in the flowers
We kid ourselves to sleep
Tickled in the showers, polished off in the woods
Sleeping like we’re gods
If I could lose you, just to find you
Done in the map room
Walking the sainted halls
Gold frame gilds you
Castrated Belvedere
Apollo in my arms
You spit out an etching
“It’s priceless” giggling
Stupid Rome at 23
Glasgow at 24
Rotherhithe at 25
It’s over still I go on
It’s over still I go on
It’s not thrilling, it’s killing
You leant over and pressed play
Rubber Soul in Italy
Murakami beats me
Tears in Napoli
I got you, I got this
I lost it
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8. |
Blind Minotaur
05:18
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I wish the world were simple
Elegant and plain
A pink plastic house
Soft plastic rain
I wish the parting easy
A waltz in the dark
Cracked plastic mirror
Splinters of glass
Painting me happy
Repaint the past
How come the sun keeps shining
How come the island burns
A charcoal sky scratched with stars
Paint the future, paint it dark
The fields - we played in
The grass - we danced on
The moon - we loved under the stars
The future stars
A brand new kingdom
A brand new fall out
Blind minotaur led by girl with candle
Blind man stumbling deaf and dumbly
Leading him out of the impossible maze
Air to sniff and grass to graze
Let’s walk the mountain side
Let’s walk the darker peak
Let’s swim the shadow world
Imagine we can't sink
Blind minotaur
Is set free
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9. |
Never Let Me Go
04:52
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You want to feel
A moment
So tender and real
Be it small
Be it faint
Be it frail
A touch and it’s over
You hope
It holds the space
From where
Your soul has flown
Your heart’s soft murmuring
A lonesome time
Lost yearning
You need
A rush of ether
The touch of an angel
A life-giving grace
This saving vein
A blood that flows
Through the whole
Through us all
Could you hold
Hold this moment
Could you stay
When nothing binds you
To this earth
To me
To us
It’s not easy
But feels good
To want a solid truth
To flaunt your flag
And tell your tale
If I could
I’d find the words
Hunt the source
Of life’s rich river
To give you ease
To give you warmth
But it’s not in my gift
Not in my fist
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10. |
Exorcist Silhouette
04:26
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Your exorcist silhouette
Waiting at the window
Your bag of tools, the crucifix
Your skeletal voodoo shakers
Come to fix your possessed daughter
Who wishes you’d called first
And not just arrive
With your bottle of curses
Out come the books, out come the cursives
Read to me read to me dissolve the ghoul
Exorcise your own demons
You whisper to the bed
As I disrobe
Settling in with my nighttime rancour
Before starting in with the head spins
And see where it goes, see where it takes me
This rage, this bed, these unforgiving sheets
This rage, this beast, this tongue twisting epic
Talk the cure, please read to me
Your softness soothes anxiety
Hold the book taste the words
Whisper them in my greedy ear
You take the parts, give them voice
The day’s hell becomes
Just castles and peasants
Giants and wizards
Defeated by witches
A brutal killer
Beheads a king
Babe I'm in
(You start)
Orpheus travelling underground
To find his lost love
Don't look back, we shout together
But he’s caught her in the rearview mirror
And as his head spins and his exorcist grins
The back seat’s full of face-pulling demons
Beckett laughs, Beckett sighs
Waiting for the punchline
Beckett laughs, Beckett sighs
Waiting for the punch
You laugh
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PATRICK FITZGERALD Manchester, UK
Patrick Fitzgerald, singer and bass player in Kitchens of Distinction. After Kitchens he was: Fruit, one half of three fabulous duos - Lost Girls | The April Seven | Oskar's Drum - and solo he is Stephen Hero. He has been releasing records under all these guises and more since 1987. ... more
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