1. |
The Sound
05:11
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the river runs dry
as rain has stopped falling
your restless bluebird
tired of flight
I sink to my knees
tired of calling
this body my own
and all that’s inside
I open my pale eyes and see
a gentle wind caress the trees
I wanna be the leaves it shakes
with bare hands I’ve dug
a grave for our future
and wished you good luck
forgetting your past
I open my pale eyes to watch
the sun and the horizon touch
I wanna be the sound it makes
I close my tired eyes and wait
until the golden sunlight fades
I close my tired eyes and wait
until the patterns corellate
I wanna be the time it takes
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2. |
Your Knife
06:10
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I stood in the shade of a tall linden tree, a knife in my hand that you had given to me. and if I had the courage I would lift my hand and carve two names into the bark but I hesitate on your behalf.
I gave you my word that I’d try to let go – it sounded so easy, and yet wasn’t so. I’m standing in the sun now and scream at the sky for rayne and pray for every cloud to come and rinse me away... I’m sorry I got swept away by your wave..
so do me a favor and take back your knife and slaughter my wishes but leave me alive.
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3. |
Hands
04:41
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I summoned a ghost that no spell could revoke
it smashed me to pieces in one single stroke
I think I’m alright now, just frayed at the seams
and slightly hung up on the edge of a dream
the weather is changing, the air smells of rain
a head full of phantoms I cannot contain
a handful of sunbeams, a mouthful of snow
a painful reminder of long ago
hand, oh hand, don’t shake, you’ll be held again
heart oh heart don’t break, this is not our end
they say it’ll heal but how can I be sure?
I drank every potion that promised a cure
I think I’m alright now, but something remains
like lumps in my bloodstream, clogging my veins
hand oh hand set free all you cling on to
heart oh heart don’t be so afraid to lose
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4. |
Gamble
05:01
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You are aware the air is thinning. Always anticipate the fall. Can't lose a game you thought you're winning if you don't really play at all. I stare for hours without blinking as reason usually prevails. I know my vessel can't be sinking when it has not even set sails. A halted train cannot run off the rails.
Would not want this to be referred to as just an entry on the list of dreams I didn't dare to pursue, of chances close but idly missed. I'll hold on til the weight will break my wrist. And you don't dance, afraid of bruising, always anticipate the fall. Can't win a game you're scared of losing if you don't even play at all.
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5. |
Sugar
04:57
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Found a key in my pocket, to which door I can't recall. Can't remember my way home or if there's home at all... But I keep my mind busy. Keep my eyes on the road. Keep myself from re-reading the letters I wrote. I eat sugar with spoons now. I drink sirup from jars. But it's your sweetness I'm craving, that I can't taste from afar.
Found a key in my pocket. Made sure all doors are locked. But would willingly open if only you came and knocked. But I keep my mind busy. Keep my yearning at bay. And keep myself from waiting for the end of the day. I eat sugar with spoons now. I drink sirup from jars. But it's your sweetness I'm craving, that I can't taste from afar.
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6. |
Bicycle Bell
06:06
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I fell of my bike – both my knees were bleeding – on my birthday night. I laughingly limped home. The streets all look alike. Their pattern is misleading. Sing a soft goodnight to gardens I've outgrown. And still I am wrapped in their embrace....
There's a cross-eyed bird perching on my window. Flapping crooked wings and pecking at the pane. Bird, you look absurd. Ruffled by the wind, oh.. all those songs you sing are driving me insane. I shoo the bird away but only louder does it bray: Won't you let me in. I will keep you company. Let my feathers muffle your unrest. Treat me as a friend, knowing I'm your enemy, knowing I'm the one that knows you best.
So catch the little thing, snatch the little creature! Cup your hand around and snaps its tiny neck! And bicycle bell, ring a hymn to my defeature as I'm leaving town, determined never to look back. Kill the wicked witch, shove her in the oven! Eat your enemies and cast your ghosts to stone! Do the final stitch – a fabric finely woven will cover your unease, protect your frozen bones, will keep those shivering guts inside, will offer the perfect place to hide... Won't you let me out. I don't crave your company! It will only nurture my unrest. But treat me as a friend, knowing I'm your enemy, knowing I'm the one that knows you best.
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7. |
Sun
05:09
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Scrape the paint off my whitewashed walls, leave the dust on the shelf. one more night in these wide white halls and I’m losing myself. I have been so busy building me a place to hide, rolling down my roman blinds to let no sun inside – how this house I called a home has turned from shelter to cage, how this notion I called love died of old age...
call nine one one, call the fire brigade for my heart is in flames. leave behind all the mess I made and give the pieces you pick from the ash a new name. like a madman I am trying to outrun the pain but regardless where I end up it will be the same. I could go to California, drive down highway one-o-one where the salt lakes in my eyes will dry up in the sun, build a fortress in the smoke trees,
roll like tumbleweed and watch my soul evaporate there in the blazing heat – or – hang new pictures on the crumbling wall and paint over the cracks. why attempt to deny it all when the truth is I do and I will want it back?
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8. |
Window Sills
05:29
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So I'm sitting by the window with my late October apathy. Blowing smoke into the morning that the wind is blowing back at me. With a mind as blank as early winter skies I'm waiting for the day to pass me by. And the sparrows sit in silence, only traffic roars and screams at me: Pack a few of your belongings, give the rest away to charity! You are tired, lonesome, terrified, you're disillusioned far beyond repair. Go find another place, be terrified and lonesome over there!
And as temperatures are dropping and half-heartedly I'm plotting my escape, trace the clouds my breath is forming and attempt to read my fortune from their shapes. With my vision blurred, my fingers numb I fumble to make up a frozen mind: Should I be capable of leaving if it's me who's left behind? To keep your feet warm keep them moving, keep your blood warm keep it flowing. To find out where you're needed go there – There's no other way of knowing.
Will the silent sparrows miss me once I've found a place with warmer air, found new window sills to perch on and blow smoke into the morning there...?
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entertainment for the braindead Berlin, Germany
Julia Kotowski, based in Berlin, weaves her sonic universe from shy song lines, small instruments and field recordings, carefully wraps them in paper cut-outs and serves them with home-made ginger cookies. And coffee.
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