1. |
Heart of Snow
07:04
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See here this winter'd blanket
in this forgotten field,
crows of ink surround me
with their kin.
The splintered bones of reed
reach up towards their maker,
their broken prayer
sings to the wind.
My heart of snow
holds love and longing.
Captures a memory.
Captures a dream.
My eyes of coal
glow pink at sun set;
see silver'd moon
as from my childhood room.
I stand at the farmhouse window,
my wooden fingers stroke the glass
to tune to the feeling
of the people inside.
Their fire dances
in happy sighs.
Blades of flame set free
from its ancient eyes.
My heart of snow
holds love and longing.
Captures a memory.
Captures a dream;
and in the dream I am a boy,
the frozen fields are melted into spring
and we're making a toy man
in the field
of cherished memory.
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2. |
Away from Her Manger
03:51
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Coloured lights in the front room,
she sits wrapping gifts
for the mystical people
that live on the list
of love
and loss,
the lies and the broken
chains that fell,
away from her manger
bed.
Red light.
Yellow light.
Green light.
Blue light.
Green light.
Yellow light.
Blue light.
Red light.
Eats her turkey with ghosts now
and cards for those sent
to the mystical people
that died on the list
of love
and loss,
the Polaroid memories now
blue and grey,
away like her baby
bed.
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3. |
Bleak Forest
01:40
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4. |
Otesanek
04:40
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Mud and straggled hair,
eyes crazed in the moonlight
of the woods.
Hacking at the soil
just like the witch had told her.
Just like the witch had told her!
All she ever wanted was a baby
but her body told her no!
What is a woman to do?
What is a woman to do?
A glint of golden root
to drag back home behind her
like a dog.
Seems it has a taste for meat,
just like the witch had told her
Just like the witch had told her!
Otesanek
Eating up larder
Otesanek
Eating up the house
Otesanek
Eating up the street
Otesanek
All I ever wanted was to be a Christmas tree
with its pretty bows and bells,
and its flashy blinky lights of joy
but the forest told me no!
There goes the cat!
There goes the teacher!
There goes the policeman!
There goes his mother!
Mother! Mother! Mother!
A flash of silver
in the hands of the stern
old woman.
Hacking at the tree
just like the book had told her
Just like the book had told her!
Otesanek
Out comes the cat
Otesanek
Out comes the teacher
Otesanek
Out comes the policeman
Otesanek
Out comes the mother
Otesanek
I'm in the forest.
I'm a tiny shoot
of shivering green.
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5. |
Won't Be a Silent Night
04:12
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I wish you could live in peace
in wisdom and harmony,
and escape your technology
so dear.
I grasp at infinity,
the silvery heaven sea,
to escape the cacophony
and fear,
for it won't be a silent night
for those in the storm tonight,
and there won't be a silent night
this year.
I watch the nativity
with hope and a sense of grief
at the loss of the blood of branch
and leaf
for it won't be a silent night
for the trees in electric light,
or the lonely surviving out
of sight.
Mother can you hear me?
Mother can you hear my call?
Is there anybody?
Anybody there at all?
Or am I in a silent night?
Did I sleep through the final fight?
And what will be left by morning light
to see?
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6. |
Hotel Scarborough
01:36
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Mark Sheeky Crewe, UK
Mark Sheeky is a surrealist artist from the North of England. His music began as synth, game influenced, music then experimental classical piano and art rock/art pop, and surrealist rock music.
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