1. |
Live How We Do
03:31
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2. |
Pants are Baggy
02:43
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Pants are baggy from wear three days in a row / you can't keep holding me / we both know // but / why / are / you so near / holding me in your arms? // I look forward to the winter's coats and chilly hold, frosty windy images on the bus ride home // Sleeves hang loose from pulling on the ends / I keep looking for you to come / and we're only friends // but / why / are / you here / holding me in your arms? // The armors and chests with empty drawers have more room for more of my wordy, empty chords // Undergarments are soaked through and through / from all the play out of doors / and the snowy indoors // is it all just silly games / where the differences are the same / and / you / are / just here / holding me in your arms.
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3. |
Milky Fingers
03:26
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Your milky fingers flowing down my waist, ghost like tingle making all the taste.
Your milk-life fingers flowing through my face, accentuating, recreating the things tongues taste.
The thingies tongues like to taste. All our tongues like to taste.
You keep all of your seeds in a jar, you know there's nothing better by far.
You keep your dream seeds in a jar. There is nothing better by far.
There's nothing better by far. Nothing better than life in a jar.
Small fox mother nesting much to close to the farmer trying to hold his post.
Small fox-like mother nesting her babes, all her efforts soon just a waste.
Gun shoots her efforts in to waste. Gun shoots all her babes.
Creaky floorboard is a metaphor for what we allow our minds to afford.
Dusty cup-board is metaphor for what we keep in our heart's reservoir.
We try to move on our own accord. We are but on note in a chord.
Store dry flowers in a dictionary, can you tell me what boundary means?
Find the flowers eventually, boundaries exist to identify the me.
The truth may be what we cannot read. With water words begin to bleed.
The earth is one gigantic sea. So it's simple you are me are we.
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4. |
Short Dreams
03:37
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5. |
Thought We Might Be Dead
04:35
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6. |
Black Sun
03:53
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A common place occurrence, but this time you came my way, this is how love comes and stays.
A rambling river sounds quite the same, hour after hour every day
What is evening if not the night, the gradual loss of sight
[Maybe safe, the solitary, unconditional contentedness of being]
Warm tones and the fluent cinnamon, sweet taste of lips on skin
Oh What is this feeling, a body for my side
Oh for my arms to encircle the heat of venus' grateful sigh
In our sleep, the sex, the hunger we define dreaming, we let free the caged beast
Let pass the baked rocks, the quarrel and let come the soft hand, the forest, the smiles
[We always find it, laugh it experience the bliss but always this is without recognition
Guiltless, untangled love, without grit the unattainable fleeting, whimsical wisp]
Oh What is this feeling, a body for my side
There's sand in my teeth, scratching my eyes and stickin to the bottoms of my bare feet
Clinging to my pockets, blinding my sight, I'll never rid of her completely
If we don't know one another then we can hide in the perfection without time
what is life without reality, without getting a little sandy
Oh what is this feeling, all I know is that I must let it go
Oh the impeding extreme opposite, already known, blissfully loathed
Where will this love go when you go in to the cavern of the unknown
Where will I go when you go into the abyss of the unknown
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7. |
Three Stray Girls
05:09
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8. |
Too Late
03:51
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Lena Maude Michigan
American Singer-songwriter, sketch artist, creative. Her music is marked by lyrics reflecting on connection to nature, mythology, psychology, and a yearning for magic and whimsy. Sometimes sweet, sometimes snarky - sometime beautiful and sometimes harsh. ... more
Lena Maude recommends:
CROSSFIRE BY LADYHUNTER slow, winding, hard-to-pin melodies
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