1. |
Ireland
03:38
|
|||
|
Come into my arms, unwind your shoulder blades.
I know you're cold. I've seen those winter days.
Where is your kin?
Way far away in the land of Ireland.
Underneath your nails, there's blooded dirt and skin.
Against the east, your child eyes can't tell.
All the gentleman from rogues and motherless fiends.
So listen to me.
You offer ugly winds no offering.
Yet you speak of a time so different now.
I dream of it somehow.
Little one, will you carry my breath
Rabid dog, will you swallow pestilence
August rock, do not fear your past
Lady bug, stay on your blade of grass.
We're not long for this world.
There's no fire here to burn.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.
We're not long for this world.
From the mire to the fern.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.
Rabid boy, do you feel the madness?
In your dreams, you can taste her skin.
Naked girl, and all your dry sockets.
Cannot taste a thing.
We're not long for this world.
There's no fire here to burn.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.
We're not long for this world.
From the mire to fern
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.
|
||||
2. |
Parting To
01:42
|
|||
|
I hear the words in your head
Speak and only ever said
Well, the memory is more the feeling
I dream of what my fingers drawn
from the end of you to your wild of crown
Well, the memory is more the feeling.
Groping for the roof, the sky is hell
The gravelled song of a flat feathered cardinal
The dark is always dots along
The province where my songs can not hold you
But wisdom was a dotted line
That i'd finish in my sweetest time
That I would owe to
Mother's peace and the release of no
more hammering woes.
I hear the words in your head
To hear the words in your head
But the memory is more the feeling
The memory is more the feeling.
|
||||
3. |
For Yours
02:54
|
|||
|
For you to fault a tree.
For dropping a seed. A seemingly simple thing.
Your fear departs over a need.
You steep in your coffee or off to your jogging.
You block out your week
And creatures come, as hostile or costly as me.
I'll have scripted enactments of loss.
The gates for you will pay it off.
This side I'm on, it seems, could learn a few things
From all you are tendering
Yet, I cannot complete the link between murder and what makes you happy
and that was defeat.
And creatures come, as hostile or costly as me.
As me, as me.
|
||||
ish Gulfport, Mississippi
Lonely, baroque ukulele artist.
If you like ish, you may also like:
Hotel Landifornia
by Fuzzy Jones
Swooping, pristine folk-adjacent songs with bright guitars and soothing melodies that quietly entrance.
go to album
The Texan sibling indie-folk duo is back with a new album that is filled with sweeping, cinematic tracks.
go to album
The Oh Hellos return with their glorious Southern Texas twang-tinged rock.
go to album
Bandcamp stalwarts Maggie and Tyler Heath return with a brand new album, and for the first time - vinyl!
go to album
Hilary Parkin Will Kill You
by Hilary Parkin
Hoping the threat in the album title isn't real, because her voice and nostalgic production is such a good listen.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jul 27, 2021
go to album
This quartet layer hypnotic, baroque strings that ebb, flow, & crisply play out 18th-century British folk songs.
go to album
