1. |
Down Easy
03:23
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Let me down easy, over the edge
Dangling for a minute blood rush to the head
Spinning like a dynamo into the abyss
Searching for a foothold in the skin of the cliff
Every fissure a saviour in the face of the wall
Not until I strike bottom will you hear me call
And we’ll watch you fly your ultra-light aeroplane
Your a propeller cutting up the sky
Nearly all systems a go, we can see your smile
Along the fence line of the pasture side
The curious are gathered
Will you rise or will you come down
At this bend in the river you make the call
Portage the vertical or succumb to falls
The yoke is a splinter, a cross to your neck
Will you be wet from exertion?
Or the cool spray of death?
(Chorus)
In your grave rest easy, grass, leaves then snow
In the spring time the crocuses above you will grow
And every raindrop that sinks through the earth
Brings a message of belonging, reassurance of worth
’Til the lively roll over, the rise to the air
We'll look for you in all that moves
See you everywhere
(Chorus)
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2. |
Emmylou
05:17
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You might be alone tonight, your mind all crazy
The memories you rely on to survive
All faded and hazy
The clock ticks one time for the second passed
One time for grace
The needle drops, the record turns, the bands engaged
Then she sings and the wall you can see over
Into the courtyard of a dream - hydrangeas bloom
You taste the wine for a hardy region
Where all language is unheard
But your words ring true
Like the Birmingham Belle’s
The lepers return to the shade, the gutters empty
The busker shakes out his hat, last call for song
The long walk home is a jumble of noise,
All dogs and sirens
The stairs echo the pending toll of a night without end
The earth is alone tonight the stars all absent
The surface we call home is slick with rain
A breath escapes, a candle answers
Your heart beats one time for life to come, one time in vain
Then she sings and the wall you can see over
Into the courtyard of a dream - hydrangeas bloom
You taste the wine for a hardy region
Where all language is unheard
But your words ring true
Like the Birmingham Belle’s
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3. |
Memorabilia
03:16
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There's a two-hundred dollar Stetson
In Fort MacLeod florist
In the window I still think about it sometime
There are girls grown into women from the past who on occasion
Gallop lonely down the pathways of my mind
Seven’s a number that I recognize, take into account
Twelve as well, and sometimes nine
There’s a plastic Jesus crucified above my fireplace
I look up and shake my head why
Perhaps a rhyme or something pleasing is written down beneath the layers
Of every scrap of memorabilia, sewn in the lining, hidden prayers
Tonight the sky is white, as are the birds,
The land is white as well
But a fire burns beneath my finger tips
What might light up, who can tell
Seven cows thick with promise
Single file to the meadow
Full in the sun is where we lay
Now the cows are gaunt with longing
Should have seen this one coming
And the reefers idle empty at the Safeway
You take your faith & your last savings
To the racetrack on a Saturday
“I’ll take the sorrel filly, let’s hope this one flies.”
Perhaps a sign or yes a reason is written down beneath the layers
Of every scrap of memorabilia, sewn in the lining, hidden prayers
Tonight the sky is white, as are the birds,
The land is white as well
But a fire burns beneath my finger tips
What might light up, who can tell
Finally, things are rough out there, finally all’s gone wrong
And the organ plays “Farther Along”
Today the waves are blue, as is the bird, sidle close, you can tell
The song she weaves into the linen sky, with my soul, it is well
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4. |
Winter Song
03:37
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When the winter came I was diving,
And the ice grew thick over the lake
Children skated up above,
Carved serifs over cracks with their blades
While bottom feeders such as I drew
Runes in the mud with frozen reeds
Davy, have you a song for this one
A simple tune with a dark and even throb
Maybe do let a little light in
A sickle moon slices through an azure fog
As winter bore down on the awakening,
The honing of a single willed knife
With buoyancy on my backside
I rose up and cut through the ice
Hesitant at first, I slid about
While the children circled round, held up my arms
Now the years have passed since that winter,
I don’t go diving anymore
Like Charlemagne in woollen robes I watch
The Ice-capades from the shore
A winter fog has settled in now, all images in gauze,
Distance erased
Davy, have you a song for this one
A lighter tune that moves the feet in time
Yet maybe leaves the heart of a bystander
Wrapped against the cold in a cloak of mulled wine
To every sky a zenith,
From there a tug upon the water-logged heart
When the water covers everything
To see what draws the water must be asked to part
I have grown old now, a shadow of the man who
Split the lake
Davy, I say lay off this one
Let silence ring out like the break of day
Til Aeolian winds intone an anthem
For those who scale the layers that separate
When the morning came I was flying and fog
Lifted off the children under my wings
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5. |
Sisters
03:01
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Sisters too have I long watched
The colours fade with ease
From under-watered philodendrons
With their withered heart-shaped leaves
A full day travelling or eleven numbers dialled in
Two ways to engender affection for your next of kin
A fond photograph fuelled memory
Boy in curlers up against the wall
Little brothers raison d’être,
To be a willing dress up doll
What keeps those big leaves popular
Is the likelihood they’ll thrive
Even when poorly tended,
A degree of neglect they’ll survive
Promises unkept render hollow certain words
Passenger pigeon homeless
Is just another vanishing bird
Calendars are kept for tracking dates
I should have called
Congratulations, have fun, send a picture for the wall
September dew falls heavy this year,
The same old wistful ache
Burned off by late morning by the
Energy of changes taking shape
Sisters return to boarding school
Little brothers get new shoes
“Keep all my plants watered now and
Stay out of my room"
Promises unkept render hollow certain words
Passenger pigeon homeless
Is just another vanishing bird
Calendars are kept for tracking dates
I should have called
Congratulations, have fun, send a picture for the wall
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6. |
Wayfarer's Star
03:43
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For four days and night it rained
The wise men and the shepherds
Of the city they played
Battened down in the yellow curtained light with you
Thompson’s blanket pencil redrew the room
Under my own new blanket of reclaimed wool
While Tracker John reminded us everything is beautiful
What if you’d passed me by
I had not a lot to offer, just a few words
A well-used guitar
What ifs are just a waste of time
We left that harbour long ago now we paddle at a
Wayfarer’s star
A white kayak, a night drawn dark
Half wishing whales would come in near
Really set this trip apart
What moves below the surface,
What flickers in the sky
One to be your harbinger, one to be your guide
What if you’d passed me by
The world had opened up for you,
You moved freely through its plazas and bazaars
What ifs are just a waste of time
We left that harbour long ago now we paddle at a
Wayfarer’s star
Tonight the world is closing in
I could really use some sleep
Old worries climb onto the bed, lay heavy on my feet
Now I know what you say and do
When others weigh you down
“Kindly I’ll have none of that,”
And slip out of that town
What if you’d passed me by
I had not a lot to offer, you had everything
But a boy with a guitar
What ifs are just a waste of time
We left that harbour long ago now we paddle at a
Wayfarer’s star
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7. |
Gilead
05:43
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Riding along in the backseat of a white Mercedes
Enjoying the Middle Eastern view
The hills to my right grow ancient and soft
As the afternoon settles on the hue
Pink are the fruits piled high at the roadside
With flesh has ruddy as our own
Savour this drive young cousin though impatient you've become
As this land is surely yours to roam
There will be goodness on the path to Gilead
The yellow earth will offer up a pomegranate bed
As for I and my house, when the evening star alights
The tremolo of old guitars will praise the salad nights
The Arabian gelding
you chose for your first riding lesson
I would have chosen him as well
Something in the eye read like a Kipling adventure
The kind of story one loves to tell
Like the Bedouin hotelier telling
Of a boyhood in the florid caves
“If they let me, I’d return within the hour.”
And as the cab-driver drops him
At his cinderblock apartment
A prayer of longing curls out of a tower
Ishmael, you lucky son, a wilderness a wander
A mother, an angel and a well
But what of this chip on your shoulder eternal
Is disapproval your entitlement, do tell?
There will be goodness on the path to Gilead
The yellow earth will offer up a pomegranate bed
As for I and my house, when the evening star alights
The tremolo of old guitars will praise the salad nights
Back in my homeland, this adopted city, this kitchen
A mess of yellow lentils on the stove keeping warm
Forecasters rattle on of rain and wind warnings
As winter settles into form
What I thought to be the flash of a digital camera
In a split second, yes, a deafening boom
Expectant fathers, friends and young mothers
Relish the thunder in the room
But you my dear mother-in-law
Sat straight up in your sheltered bed
While the shattered bomb replaced your pillowed head
On the rooftop the enemy your brothers of the wilderness
With them your mother shared the family bread
There will be goodness on the path to Gilead
The yellow earth will offer up a pomegranate bed
As for I and my house, when the evening star alights
The tremolo of old guitars will praise the salad nights
Now reclined in a rocker, my own walls, my solitude
So much the better for the child soon to arrive
A mound of story lines begun and unending
Your birthright to unravel bye and bye
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8. |
Fuselage
03:36
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There’s a troublin’ in the back pocket of my mind
And I’d like to clear it up, I just don’t have the time
Hot sand blowing, pressing flat the leg of my jeans
I hope they keep it out, it’s drifting at the seams
Try and keep your friends alive
Try and keep your sandals in line
Keep and eye on what’s been blowing through the sky
Lights were flashing, it was painfully obvious for all to see
From the beginning we were going down,
still we had each other’s good company
Try and keep your friends alive
Try and keep your sandals in line
Keep and eye on what’s been blowing through the sky
Beneath the fuselage,
There’s a small painting of Jerusalem
I am your friend, we will touch down in your holy land
Try and keep your friends alive
Try and keep your sandals in line
Keep and eye on what’s been blowing through the sky
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9. |
Victoria
04:54
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Two young women witnessed on a bus to Victoria
Gentle lap of cellphones, shut and now flipped open
Illuminate the faces, makes for better conversation
Four hundred dollar sweater,
One a young and early heiress
This in contrast to the other,
No contact order on her mother
Auburn Rockports on the heiress
Folded hands and knees together
Everyone in here listening
We’re picturing the distance from our lives to theirs
Gapping our situations
The heiress remains silent
Now hear the chatty young delinquent
“I live with my aunt, she’s really strict, this time
she’s really gonna kill me, she doesn’t like my boyfriend,
I think she knows he’s a drug dealer.”
The light violet and sporadic
A fit of sneezing from the heiress
“Bless you and bless you, bless you and bless you.”
Bungalows sweep by with their ordinary lights
Ensconced the family and it’s bleeding
Blundering billboards trumpet the right to this life
The right to bequeath our troublin’ on our children
(Believe me this hurts me more than it hurt you)
“What are you listening to?
I’m pretty sure that I have that song too.”
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10. |
Thanksgiving Den
03:45
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Hay ride is over, corn maze solved
Leave the cotton candy crowds wander animal stalls
Blue ribbons for chickens deemed best in show
How their feathers ever got that way
I don’t wanna know
See sheep painted neon green, llamas with no hair
Doll up your animals, we’ll call it a fair
Slip a little ginger under the gelding’s tail
Now high-step around the ring until your nerves fail
Down by the riverside with my coronet
Sun is swinging low but it hasn’t swung out yet
Lay out a simple tune, trade 8’s with the breeze
Mellow on my end, never one for high C’s
A psalm for Aldo Leopold, rest your almanac pen
An ode from Wheel Rim River then I’m off to bed
Bury me deep in yellow leaves
Or straw born lately of the sun
Leaving passage for my solemn breath
Perhaps a hole to watch the autumn come undone
To every wild bird winging winterly
An invitation to my thanksgiving den
We’ll be singing, “You don’t know the shape I’m in”
There's a picture of my dad and me beside my bed
I suppose from now on there’ll always be
In caps, our backs turned, gloved hands to sides
Looking off into the trees
No portraiture, no poses held
Two still lives, figures a part of everything
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11. |
Tired Horses
04:25
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The sound of rolling rippling bells
Tumble off the tower to the plaza below
These doves, they know the dawn
With them she awoke
Lying still for a long time listening,
Picturing the village dogs
The scarves of the market
The carcasses carved up
And what she might take across
Miriam raise the shade
The orioles return to the trembling ash
Morning has fallen, the moment incarnate
Has paused at the window then passed
Breathing, “I believe I’ll revisit these tender memories...
Draw them deep within my eroded chest
Flesh out the beloved, their scents and their touch,
Speak to them, invite them across.”
Miriam to where’d you disappear?
Your evening nurse arrives with a vial of ease
This bed, but for your night clothes
Is empty for the first time in years
Thirteen stables too lie empty
Slanted light streams in the door
Dust still settling to the floor
While out on the level,
The great plain below heaven
A dust cloud ushers them across
Finally, by the riverside she lies,
Traces etched in clay, take this cup
Mourning doves, they know their song,
On cue they erupt
Sun eclipsed by the horizon,
Eyelids forever closed to tears,
Fallow deer from willow groves appear
Thirteen horses kneel in communion, drink the river
Song of loss, a lone swallow dips, wings a soul across
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12. |
Fade Away
04:44
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I’ll rise up
In the morning
Early morning
To be with you
Dressing comes
A little bit easier
A little less fuzzy than
It did before
I am forty
Half of eighty
One third of one twenty
Don’t the numbers look pretty
There’s a cow at the auction
Standing with the others
Then her number’s called
And she says goodbye
Trouble is
There is too much thinking for the day - hey
Trouble is
There is too many things to put away - hey
Colour wheel
Spinning so fast it turns to grey - hey
And fades away
I know this man
He lives in an outpost
A long way from trouble
A long way from town
In the morning he wakes up
There’s no movement in his legs
He says, ‘Don’t it look like I’m staying put today.’
I’ll rise up
In the morning
Early morning
To be with you
I will pray three times a day at my window - hey
Snow will fall in a line hard past my gable - hey
A chair, wood floor, a solid table - hey
Fade away
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Roger Dean Young & the Tin Sea Victoria, British Columbia
Roger Dean Young is a singer-songwriter sprung from the foothills of Alberta and deposited on the West Coast of British Columbia.
Roger Dean Young & the Tin Sea recommends:
Late Riser
by The Abramson Singers
The Abramson Singer makes me believe
go to album
Well Below The Stream
by Spotted Boy
where it all began
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