Recorded backstage at Green River Festival, 2012 www.greenriverf... Produced by Linda Fahey & Beehive Productions for FolkAlley.com Cameras: Linda Fahey, Susan Bibeau Audio recording & mixing: Jeff Oehler Video editing: Susan Bibeau
I think of Dave every so often. I found Brown Bird very soon after his passing, and they’ve been a huge influence on my musical style. It’s so heartbreaking that such a lyrical and musical visionary is gone, especially so early into his life. Sometimes I get to thinking about all the songs that could’ve been written throughout Dave’s life, had leukemia not taken him so early. I try to keep his music alive through my own, and the influence he has had on me. I’m a poor substitute for the man himself, but I can’t not honor such a brilliant mind as his.
I tried writing lyrics. Can someone help me change anything that's wrong? Each one a temple for something beautiful some pay substance but we’ll never die and each one a cradle for something terrible These and the beautiful things alive Pay no mind to the vultures and the vultures fly on from here fly as they might its disaster then there after then they’ll have their wings water and ice from the weight down the heart my soul’s tied in with the tensions of a dry and beating drum I have my brother and modern day miracles they’ll heal by medicine they’ll never die Pay no mind to the vultures and the vultures will fly on from here fly as they might its disaster then there after they’ll have their wings Water and ice from the way down the heart my soul’s tied in with the tension of a dry and beating drum
I believe its "...some vague substance that will never die each one a cradle, for something terrible, eating the beautiful, things in life (alive?) pay no mind to the vultures and the vultures, will fly off again, fly as they might, its disaster, that their after, and well never win. water and ice, from the weigh of the heart, muscles tied in with the tension of a dry and beating drum."
Here's how I think the lyrics go. CarlJohnDavison had it pretty close I think. Each one a temple Of something beautiful Some vague substance That will never die And each one a cradle For something terrible That's eating the beautiful Things alive Pay no mind To the vultures And the vultures Will fly off again Fly as they might It's disaster That their after They will never win Water and ice from the weight of the heart Muscles tight and with the tension of a dry beating drum I have my brother A modern day miracle Unfrailed by medicine He did never die Pay no mind To the vultures And the vultures Will fly off again Fly as they might It's disaster That their after They will never win Water and ice from the weight of the heart Muscles tight and with the tension of a dry beating drum
