1. |
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Come with me, why won't you stay a while in this land of light?
I know the grass is brown, but I don't mind if we stay inside.
Let's take a walk amongst these subpar views and scattered thoughts.
And I know that you won't like it when it's cold.
You'll wanna stay inside beside the fire - wrapped in smoke.
And you'll say, "It's time to go, let's move down to the coast where the trees are high.
I know the water's brown, but I don't mind if we stay inside."
"And I know that you won't like it when it's hot.
You'll wanna stay inside beside the fan with a drink in your hand."
Come with me, we'll go where we will go; to the sun or snow.
I know our hair is gray and we don't mind if we stay inside.
And I know that I won't like when you're away.
And the second-hand moves faster every day.
But soon we'll find a place where we can stay.
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2. |
Reconciliation
02:50
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Words of hate, a decided fate, I see through their lies.
My smile is in disguise.
Please wait inside, I know you'll cry when you see
What they've done to me.
So put your good book down.
Your question is written in the ground.
And I don't know what the answer will be,
I guess we'll wait and see.
The water's moving faster now, tearing tree-roots from the ground.
Headaches, heartaches mix with silt.
Reconciliation tilts my house off the sand,
It's like drowning by the hand of John the Baptist.
So put your good book down.
Your question is written in the ground.
And I don't know what the answer will be,
I guess we'll wait and see.
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3. |
Damn Near
03:30
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Driving on the road again, there is a fork,
Where do I want to go?
The weather isn't looking good,
There might be rain, there might be sleet or snow.
Well some may find that giving up is where they want to end.
But I have found that I'll give in when I am cold and dead.
Our boots are wet, our coats are hung.
I'll step inside, breathe warm air in my lungs.
The weather starts to settle in,
The frost creeps in and rests on rusted rungs.
Well some may find that giving up is where they want to end.
But I have found that I'll give in when I am cold and dead.
It's cold.
No more fun. Drop one-by-one.
Three cans of food, our rations running low.
The smell creeps in, our stomachs hurt.
I'll leave the warmth and venture through the snow.
Well some may find that giving up is where they want to end.
But I have found that I'll give in when I am cold and dead.
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4. |
Take a Step Back
06:01
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And every time you watch us die, you say just wait for a sign.
Some new form of life from the ashes of our broken minds.
But in this life, you've lost all sight of the problems and the strife.
You keep your eyes wide shut from my contingency and pride.
Take a step back, just look and see
How your eyes, they fall down to a former scene.
You wade in the waters of our told past.
It's time to step back, where the fish can't last.
When you decide to hold your head high,
Steal your footprints from the night.
Your hands are untied.
Part with drying eyes.
Take a step back, just look and see
How your eyes, they fall down to a former scene.
You wade in the waters of our told past.
It's time to step back, where the fish can't last.
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5. |
Hunting Hearts
03:54
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I can see the stars before the sun goes down
As the lights go on in our little town.
I will count the studs upon the belt of the hunter in the sky
And wonder why you don't see him.
Just twelve months ago, your breeze entered my veins.
It chilled me to the core, then warmed me up again.
So as winter comes I hope you look for the hunter in the sky
And wonder why I don't see him.
As the city stirs, we put our swords away
Watch as shadows thin through our window pane
Our wandering finally through.
Under sinking steps, I heard your harmony
Tales of sinking ships in your mythology
So as winter warms, I hope we look for the hunter in the sky
To see him passing by.
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6. |
Mind Missing
05:00
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In the shadows I was lost for a year or two
Pulled my head from what was rot so I could start anew.
Backwards, step into the line.
In the lead, but think we lost our minds.
Planted on these wooden steps preaching my despair
Home to what I thought was dead, only brings me stares.
Pulled my glasses off to find
We're going nowhere, think we lost our minds.
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The Woodpile Laramie, Wyoming
The 5-piece “indie-folk-meets-rock-band” combines conventional folk instrumentation, charming storytelling, and rich vocal harmony with beautiful cello melodies, complex arrangements, and dynamic composition that take the listener on a rousing, soft somber and reflective journey. ... more
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