1. |
Pews
05:22
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On Sundays I sat close to Dad
Aftershave and starch
Perfuming the pews as we listened
Flipping through those thin-edged leaves
That held the word, the flesh
I guess
In the pews and we listened
And I knew the gentle pull of his arm around my shoulder
I knew the gentle pull of his arm around my shoulder
Holding me together, as if he knew the future
Sometimes I'd trace the lines
on his hand with the ring
Trapped
Inside the pew of his fingers.
(So damn confident that he believed)
And I knew the gentle pull of his arm around my shoulder
I knew the gentle pull of his arm around my shoulder
Holding me together, as if he knew the future
Knew how I would break--knew the bond he'd fake
His last business trip lingered on his lips:
A green vine blooming fast around his neck
And I was blind; we were blind
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2. |
Sands
03:02
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You're a river growing faster in my head
Running over mountains, around the bends
And the land is changing, but your current only grows
I'm still wondering where you go
The summer's fading faster into fall
My legs are growing weary after all
You and I are like a saddle on the wall:
Have we run our race after all?
Did we fall too fast, my love?
Did we fall too fast?
The sun's in the sky but the moon aint far behind
And the sands are running faster after all
Do you think that time would slow if we asked?
Or could we simply try to break his grasp?
I've got a hundred years or maybe a hundred days
to make you mine or lose you in the pace
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3. |
Orchard
05:37
|
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My body is tilled with rake and hoe
Exposing the musk of fertile loam
All is only life, budding in the ground
Birthing light and glory, shedding warmth around
A planted peach to swell,
bloom, and fuzz the branches
with bark unfit to snap
Where are you planted?
My body is cracked from loin and limb
Starved of water, the famine of winter
All is only worms, burrowing to the core
birthing blight and chaos that only begs for more
A kind of pit to feed
the cold and barren void
A meadow ripe for rot
Where are you planted?
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4. |
Part I: Insomnia
02:52
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5. |
Carolina Wren
04:44
|
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She was 21
Found her baby birds on the front step
Three nestlings dead
Broken bodies thrown down from their nest
A vacant cradle
Flightless chicks taken from their beds
A cold act of nature
Momma bird's gone crying, lost her kids
She swept them into the flower bed
And tucked them in goodnight
Tears fell from her eyes:
This wouldn't be put right
Underneath the cherry tree
A house wren flew away
She lost her sweetheart melody
Never sang again
This was not the plan
When will sad things come untrue?
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6. |
Part II: Dawn
01:50
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Ben Nelson Winston Salem, North Carolina
Ben Nelson dabbles in multiple instruments, including guitar, brass, and keyboards. Based in his basement in Winston Salem, NC.
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