1. |
Inside The Tent
02:31
|
|||
2. |
Month of May
02:41
|
|||
|
The shiny things I've seen, I want them to be real.
The appealing and the clean, it's how I feel
when I need clean, when I need these things to set my scene.
I wear a face-mask walking in the yard.
Isolation is ok, you might say it's hard
I have to know it's the only way.
I have to stay up to date for the month of May.
The streams of thought I hear and see are like a dream.
But I'm lost to dependency, and that's real to me.
And I need sleep, but I feel dreams standing in my way.
Shiny things and plain, they make me reel.
Even though they're not well-arranged,
they still can appeal.
When I need things
I need appealing hopes, they're like gold rings.
|
||||
3. |
Indigo
03:49
|
|||
|
You hold me by my visage, Indigo.
You'd have me wear a violet crown.
Play me though your games with scarred fists.
Ah but you're never gonna pin me down!
You keep me talkin' till I'm done with talkin'
Keep me runnin' till you've won the race.
Now I'm holdin' up my mirror,
now I'm holdin' up my mirror
Screen me by my vaccination,
know me by my social feeds.
Run me through your lists and rank me
amongst the saints in your throng of thieves.
Into fits of pure frustration,
I'm sweating like a broker on the phone.
Ever since the day you met me,
you knew you weren't going down alone.
But now I'm holdin' up my mirror
Now true colors seem much clearer
But now I'm holdin' up my mirror
Now true colors seem much clearer
Indigo
Indigo
|
||||
4. |
Mary
05:04
|
|||
|
Rolling through the pain of heart,
that's how mercy's train starts.
And then into the roads,
who knows how far they may go?
Mary, Mary
Only the rider with no plans
can see the hill from the plains' spans
or a sun within herself.
In truth, she can see nothing else.
Mary, Mary
The lone creature in ragged frost
can feel the grip of pain and loss.
And how envy binds up the day,
he'd never ever want to say.
Mary, Mary
Cruel hands the anxious hold
through tests and crimes untold.
But we're learning to let go,
to free the fast into the slow.
Mary, Mary
Oh let me take my time this way.
You can take it as you may.
Only you can see the good.
Don't rush through things as if you should.
Mary, Mary
Oh Mary, Mary me
Mother of all we need to see
The loving hand reached to this world
The patient shoulder holds the squirrel
through the night, biting and scratching
Through the night, biting and scratching
Mary, Mary
|
||||
5. |
Winds
02:48
|
|||
|
Starting my day in a new town,
I hope the winds of the day
whisk me away.
Hearing the future on an old clock-radio,
and I'm cryin' in the silence of the glow.
All the gales sweeping through
were just the tillers of lands eclipsed from view.
The time-tables I thought I know
were just arrangements of silver, stormin' on the blue.
Well I wanted to fly high and I got charred.
To survey the land was a task too hard.
In the burning, drying heat, summer will slay.
But I still believe we'll see the lay of the land one day.
Now I'm starting my day in a new town,
I hope the winds of the day
whisk me away.
Hearing the future on an old clock-radio,
and I'm cryin' in the silence of the glow.
|
||||
6. |
Holy Weather
04:04
|
|||
|
Outside the tent, I am who I am.
Out on nowhere's unending stage, the wicked wind is my friend.
Not an intruder who pushes in the walls.
No solicitor heard making midnight calls.
Oh no
By an old volcano, that's where I know peace.
Her mother-earthly halo above will slow the beast.
Her incantations slip past the common ear.
We only know what we thought we heard of what we think we hear.
Lake Charles, Superior, Champlain
All wild on the inside
And here I am in garments, just the same.
Hold weather, it's warning and discipline
rolls and rocks me from my rusted hinge.
I'm headed up to north station by mountain trail.
My head is pounding, back bent like a mouse or snail.
The chorus of migrations enters in so strong,
without an indication of where they've been so long.
|
||||
7. |
Gone Great (Sha Na Na)
04:14
|
|||
|
Under a bright sky, night falls hard.
Dusks dampen and brusque dawns fade up the churchyard.
In the winter, I can hear the past
in crunching snow, in squeaking ice.
And in Autumn, the choir of festival lights.
Like a seashell, I'm hearing the roar of a small world.
The spiral leads me to the core.
Each whorl turns toward the curl.
I'm feeling the leaves fall from the depths of lakes,
far from their companions, lonely as saints.
Ocean shrimp dreaming in the net
or queens testing out their moves, locked in their sets.
Sha na na na na
Wandering days give way to wakeful nights
in the mind's scenery, under imagined lights
where all the stones in all the caves
and all the thoughts you've ever saved
dissipate, a new place is paved.
Snow machines slick the slopes upstate
for our enjoyable repass, first or last date.
but the lingering tones of what has been replaced
make your stay so sad that what's good's gone great.
What's good's gone great
What's good's gone great
Sha na na na na
|
||||
Julian Cartwright New Jersey
Julian Cartwright is a songwriter, instrumentalist, composer and arranger based in the Philadelphia area. Instagram @julian.cartwright.songs
If you like Julian Cartwright, you may also like:
Echo Dancing
by Alejandro Escovedo
The legendary Alejandro Escovedo returns with another country-rock scorcher.
go to album
Parque México
by Kevin Dickerson
Spoken word storytelling spun into a delicate web of acoustic guitar, from the Bay Area.
go to album
Turn My Radio Up
by The Coffis Brothers
Big, sunny country songs from this Santa Cruz duo summon the spirit of late-period Byrds.
go to album
A surprisingly tender and intimate concept record about long distance love from Cody Votolato of The Blood Brothers/Head Wound City.
go to album
This Bay-Area based band offer modern indie songs with intertwining harmonies and searching refrains.
go to album
Rootsy cosmic Americana with good time family vibes from Glendale, California.
go to album
I'm the Moon, You're the Wave (so plz change w/ me) (EP)
by Spooky Mansion
featured on Bandcamp Radio Feb 21, 2017
go to album
