1. |
From Dust
03:04
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She rode a pale horse for five days straight,
Up a mountainside to a frozen lake,
And the sun moved west through East,
Giving rest to all beneath.
She took a knife to start a flame,
And drew the fire from her vein,
And the blood fell drop by drop,
Staining the ashes on the mountain top.
She went, to find, the world, was blind, and prayed, to he, who let, her see.
She spoke a line, they sang a verse,
The litany became a dirge,
The priest cried on rhyme by rhyme,
Drunk and sad on Eucharist wine.
The glass above was cracked and stained,
The awning red and the sacred reign,
Hung above from a plastic cross,
The wooden one had begun to rot.
On the seventh day upon her climb,
She lost all sense of space and time,
There was black and nothing more,
Than the sound of hooves on the frozen floor.
And from the void there came a word,
And the voice was blessed, and the word was sure,
And the floods came drop by drop,
And swept the ashes from the mountain top.
We sheltered and we stopped, we learned what had been lost, we sheltered, and we watched, we learned that all was dust.
Dust from dust.
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2. |
Blue
03:04
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I woke at the dawn,
The mist was lying heavily, I stumbled through the thorn,
She stared into me,
With eerie calm she turned her back and walked into the sea,
She slouched into the deep.
For thirteen, silver moons,
We searched across the shoreline, for her mane and her shoes,
We searched through sand and dirt,
The captain is a holy man, we pray that she’s not hurt,
He whispers while we work.
What winters lie beneath?
The oldest, the wisest, spin rumours into sheets,
A throne wrought in the cold,
Where young dukes ride on frozen clay,
Not fearful and not warm.
I went, into the night
The winter winds had whipped the smoke high upon the moor,
I saw her shadow then,
Among the burning heather as she danced into the dark,
The silent ceaseless dark,
And I followed, from afar.
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3. |
The Bleak Below
03:34
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In fire breaks,
half burnt on cinder blocks,
the spent corpse of old guy Fawkes,
and winter treading soft.
When the air thins and the pines decline,
I take your hand in mine,
Autumn dealt her final round,
has blended the green and the white.
But you frown and raise a finger to the wind,
“These days are short and unkind,
the ground is hard and it promises cold,
come home my dear let us hide.“
But I don’t care,
About the cold,
I feel good,
In the frost and snow,
Take my hand,
And wear my coat,
I’m at home,
In the bleak below.
With ragged wool,
Draped loose around your neck,
You really are quite something to behold,
The warmest touch I’ve known yet.
My skin still tingles from the wet of a kiss,
Plumes of breath in the air,
The crunch underfoot and the droplets of ice,
On grass, on heather, on hair.
But you shudder and turn to check the sun,
“The dusk will come before long,
The sky is bare, and it promises cold,
Come home my dear we must run.”
But I don’t care,
About the cold,
I feel good,
In the frost and snow,
Take my hand,
And wear my coat,
I’m at home,
In the bleak below.
The withered tree,
The deserted sky,
The morning breeze,
Biting behind the eye,
Blood like fire,
And breath like smoke,
Stay with me,
In the bleak below.
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4. |
Our Master
03:37
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I persist on every tree,
I’m burned from every altar,
The wind blows, I let it speak,
And it wagers I will falter.
I go down down down,
My light won’t let me down, again.
There were speeches at the first,
Great summons to remember,
When I was vital and I shook,
The morning from December.
Rich laughter in the street,
The laughter that’s on me,
Wine flows I let it breathe,
The secrets that I keep.
Rich laughter, flowing free,
The secrets never sleep.
Last night there was a tremor,
I saw cracks form in the plaster,
Worried faces in the mirror,
And the stern words of our master.
Our master in the street,
Forgotten, now set free,
I light fire and let it breathe,
The secrets that I keep.
Their master, flowing free,
The secrets never sleep.
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5. |
Poor William
03:38
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The Horizon burned in Amethyst,
Autumn winds brought rain and snow,
Air had thickened into mist,
Which licked the roots in the valley below,
Where the shepherd’s wife had gone to dig,
A ditch beneath the standing stones.
The diggings not the difficult part,
It’s the covering up with soil and clay,
Travellers travelling Easterly,
Spot the burning hay upon a ridge,
Poor William did own that flock,
I wonder if he’s seen the flames.
He watched while we were sleeping,
His eyes rolled back and his mouth agape,
And took without speaking,
Then burned the syringe in a paper bag,
And the smoke touched the ceiling,
And the runes it cast read through a glass,
Darkly, but then face to face.
The Days pass in sequent toil,
As all forwards do contend,
The pillars once the main of light,
Fall to obscurity in the end,
Now the ground is bleached by flowerbed,
In Albion you’ll rest your head.
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6. |
DADGAD
02:57
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Soft and softly bearing down,
To wipe the water from your skin,
You’re cold, and then your burn
The more you talk, the less I learn.
Wasted hours in the dark,
The right man knowing when to talk,
I’m empty, like hunger after a meal,
And I’ve worked, and watched you steal.
You’ve bathed my skin, and helped me heal,
Then tore the ribbon from my arm,
Nothing, could feel more real
And no one else, could seem less here.
The patterns were violent in the dark,
And my hands kept running through your hair,
The wind wasn’t cautious of the rain,
But the melody still rang out, all the same.
I forget myself, today.
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7. |
Pastel Seascapes
03:27
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8. |
Goldscleugh
02:58
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Take me back home,
The only place I know,
If you love me please,
I’ll see you there.
Far from the buzz,
The streets, the city rush,
The place that I love,
I’ll see you there.
The heather moor,
The sighing bog,
The craggy peaks shroud into fog,
Where passers by will pass us by,
Passers by will pass us by.
The rope swing bridge,
The mist on top,
The mountain ridge carved from the rock,
Where passers by will pass us by,
Passers by will pass us by.
Take me back home,
The only place I’ll go,
If you love me please,
I’m waiting there.
The heather moor,
The sighing bog,
The craggy peaks shroud into fog,
Where passers by will pass us by,
Passers by will pass us by.
The rope swing bridge,
The mist on top,
The mountain ridge carved from the rock,
Where passers by will pass us by,
Passers by will pass us by,
Passers by will pass me by,
Passers by will pass me by.
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9. |
A Useless Good
03:05
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I pardon all of your sins,
But two I can’t abide
You read poems in silence
and kiss aloud.
a kiss, my dear, is not for the ear,
and music is not for the eyes.
So sin, blossom, be merry—
but take my advice:
Your delights and your fears,
Should align in the night.
a kiss, my dear, is not for the ear,
and music is not for the eyes.
*lyrics adapted from Robert Chandler's translation of a Sofia Yakovlevna Parnok poem. Her last unpublished cycle was called "a useless good".
I pardon all your sins—
but two I can’t abide:
You read poems in silence
and kiss aloud.
So sin, blossom, be merry—
but take my advice:
a kiss, my darling, is not for the ear,
and music is not for the eyes.
1931
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Ezra Briggs England, UK
Debut Album, 'The November Guest', released 02 August 2019.
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