1. |
|
|||
|
Once, when we were both driving playgrounds
up to blackness where a blue narcissist heals the eye
We'd stumble upon nearly everything
High as a tower built by different languages
I scraped my knees on the tapestry
laid out obnoxiously on the demented routine
And you'd disapprove of the scenery
Overfed flowers with ancient machinery
We've been eating peaches under the circle
We cannot see
We live by what the river said to us
"Oh my creatures of flesh and heiroglyph
Throw yourselves in the heat and burn motherly fine"
I recall when we, laughing violently,
viewed the overblown mirror until we agreed
to loiter in the architecture we handsomely vandalized
with unknown signatures
Why did we think we were permanent?
Summoning Marys who, onward, accordingly sang
And you disapproved of the miracle
Naked on the roof, your confession was lyrical
We've been eating peaches under the circle
We cannot see
We live by what the river said to us
"Oh my creatures of flesh and heiroglyph
Throw yourselves in the heat and burn motherly fine"
Raise our purring hands to the moon and sigh
Like the cats we once housed, temporarily
And when the outflow from the cavity
takes on the form of a stranger one evening...
|
||||
2. |
On Silent
04:46
|
|
||
|
I admit that I know a hunger
It's stronger than a thousand winds
Now, every morning I open a door
And I'm taken to another country
But then again I wouldn't mind
Starting every day keeping it all on silent
I keep it all on silent
I confess that I sleep all year
I only wake up to say goodbye
Now, every night I leave the window open
And my body just goes away
But in the end I don't mind
Starting every day keeping it all on silent
I keep it all on silent
Won't you hover with us
Hover with us
Why don't you hover with us
Come on and hover with us
|
||||
3. |
Returner
05:42
|
|
||
|
In the warmhearted comatose, I
was tethered for years to the sky
Conversations arose all around
in some radiant ways
And my animal out in the crowd
beating it's monologue down
In the mutual fabric of eyes
Here it comes, no disguise
And I remember falling asleep
under the pagan moon
See, I went away
But I can return for a little while
Come, young anger and fly out the mouth
of the lullaby stealing your crown
We can cry from the ear of the dream
We can sing our machines
So naive in a body of light
like an owl of the night
I am not the one that you hear
Turn, turn away from me
And I remember falling asleep
under the pagan moon
See, I went away
But I can return for a little while
|
||||
Louis Bardales Chicago, Illinois
Louis Bardales is a singer-songwriter from Chicago, Illinois.
If you like Louis Bardales, you may also like:
Gorgeous fingerstyle guitar playing from this Portland, Oregon musician that captures the spirit of American Primitive in dazzling detail.
go to album
The latest from the UK’s Chris Brain is a gorgeously wrought album of tender acoustic folk music.
go to album
Rich, pastoral folk meditations on nature and healing from the UK singer-songwriter.
go to album
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves.
go to album
A fresh, constantly-evolving vision on Americana from the New York trio, weaving together bluegrass, roots music, and pop rock.
go to album
Postcards From the Country
by Trae Sheehan
West Virginia country-folk singer-songwriter Trae Sheehan aims to find a balance between the traditional and the modern on his new LP.
go to album
Meet Me at the River
by Dawn Landes
On “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation.
go to album
