wake me when you're home,
my eyes are growing tired,
I'm scared that I'll miss out on a single kiss goodnight,
goodnight.
love is never fun
when you're counting down the days
til' fate sweeps you away and leads you back to where you came,
back to where you came from,
I'm not going back.
west to east,
your lonely tone cuts right through me,
hang up the phone.
east to west,
my words like traveling birds that long for rest,
long to be heard.
still locked inside your birdcage chest
"sing for me your songs,"
you'd always say to me,
but halfway through I'd always stop,
You'd fallen fast asleep,
I wish you'd stay awake,
as I rise to leave,
and springs creak in your bed,
your waking eyes stare up at me,
you fumble for my hand,
"please won't you start again?"
but I've flown far from then,
west to east,
your lonely tone cuts right through me,
hang up the phone.
east to west,
my words like traveling birds that long for rest,
long to be heard.
still locked inside your birdcage chest
I felt trapped inside your warmth so I moved to the cold,
ribs and muscle on my way, all recklessly were torn,
now I'm free to make my nest, they say "free as a bird"
but how I miss the warmth of knowing my songs would be heard,
west to east,
your lonely tone cuts right through me,
hang up the phone.
east to west,
my words like traveling birds that long for rest,
long to be heard.
still locked inside your birdcage chest
Alec Bowman perfectly captures the dark soil under the pastoral world of British folk with this collection of melancholy originals. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2020
A trio of songs from indie rock veterans, “3ingle” showcases their songwriting skill with pared-back, acoustic arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 8, 2018