1. |
Movement I - Woods
00:46
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2. |
Cultivate
04:27
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Have we come undone?
You don’t have to run away
Please stay
We are more than words
We are more than we will ever say
And it will stay that way
So let us cultivate
I’m wishing on the wind
To carry all my thoughts into your night
It’s a sorry plight
Such a lonely night
Would you let them in?
Or cast my words off too the side?
Leave them where they lie
You can let them thrive
May the be a guide
To lead your heart to mine
In the harvest, may we bear
And burn away all the tares
We will reap what we sow;
Keep me with you and I’ll grow
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3. |
Eastern Gown
03:45
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The Moon will show a long way home
But in an eastern gown, the sun will rise
Giving warmth to trav’ling bones and tired eyes
On your way, you’ll waste the day
Driving back to all the things you left behind
Coming fast to some poor boy who missed your Wooden Eyes
Will my heart be the one
To break away and end this longing day?
If my heart is the one
Then when will this carry itself away?
The shifting shadow
Will soonly dissipate
I am waiting for the day I will see your face
But it will be a different light
And we will live separate lives.
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4. |
Eau Claire
03:57
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Did you wait that year for me?
Were you waiting for my errancy?
Did I let go of all I chased
For a time with you, face-to-face?
Eau Claire, you don’t know I can’t be there
With the dirt in my hands, running through your hair
Eau Claire, you don’t know of all the nightmares
That keep me running back to grace
Kiss until all the clouds are gone
Just let this be our swan song
By the fount, deeper in the garden
You ardent, you aren’t like me at all
Eau Claire, you don’t know how much I care
Just to keep you safe from what you think is fair
Eau Claire, I am trying hard to save you
But I’ve gone in too far, letting all that ever hurt me have its way and
Tear me up to pieces in its vile mouth
Imparted wisdom
Failure to go on
And all the tenderness has run aground
Now I know this,
And I can’t go on
All the madness that your days have wrung
I am letting go of this now
In your hand I feel your soul;
In your soul, you are not whole
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5. |
Movement II - Leaves
01:37
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6. |
Gold Demesne
05:13
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Gold Demesne, you struck a vein
Of openhearted tendencies;
A mind as wild as wind and sea
It’s my demise
To no surprise
I cannot catch every fox on my own
So let my bearing be sweet to your bones
Pack of wolves in restless woods
I came as night, swift and light
Drawing your days with fangs of white
And now I stand with fists full of sand
I have awoken my love before its time
So I wait ‘til they say I’m absolved of my crimes
I have awoken my love before her time
I wait ‘til they say
I’m absolved of my crimes
Gardens grow inside of you
With seas of evergreens
in my eyes turning blue
I can try to wait a little longer
Try to wait a little longer
Try again
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7. |
Absence
03:25
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All I want are words with you
Always short and always few
Thimble kisses weaving through
Tension passes me to you
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8. |
Candles
03:01
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What a four hour
remedy that we need
Candles like you and me
speak like the sea
Written skies and painted words
Dry my eyes and open yours
And dead air calls for depth of care
If you are there
All that you miss
If you don’t
If you won’t
And if you don’t
And if you won’t
This will die
This will die
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9. |
Movement III - Clouds
01:17
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10. |
Here
03:34
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Sleepless in my bed I lie
Sickness comes from late at night
You come to me
In every thought
And I can’t help
But feel you’re lost
This season brings so much
Promise you will
Take and drink your fill
Whenever you will find me
Whenever you will find me
Home alone in lonely homes
Fragile thoughts will break like bones
You wanted me to grow away
I wanted you anyway
I just can’t seem to think
That you never will
take and drink your fill
Whenever you will find me
Whenever you will find me
Take and drink your fill
Whenever you will find me
If ever you should find me
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11. |
Movement IV - Shy
05:03
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Fall into my arms
A solace, the morning dream
Set forth in the dawn,
A love so long
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Holden Days San Juan Capistrano, California
The occasionally collaborative dream-folk project of Timothy Jude Andrews of Southern California, who is carefully amassing castles of songs as if to fill every page of the world's journals and storybooks.
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