Under the pines
Where the pale moon shines
And the roses touch entwined
This garden rambles under shade
Far different than mine.
So it seems I’d step upon you if I could
Maybe ‘cause my hearing’s not so good
I would hear a squeak and wonder
“What’s that sound?”
After I had blindly cut your throat
And put you in the ground
People who are told that they are stupid will appear as such
People who are told that they are smart think they deliver much
People who are hungry remain hungry
While the gunfire it continues
Making little puffs of smoke around our eyes.
Out of the nose of the volcano
Whence dawn’s first finger glows
A palm tree bright with gathering light
Collects December’s snow.
Under the pines
Where the pale moon shines
And the roses touch entwined
This garden rambles under shade
Far different than mine.
Watch for the joys of capitalism
As they spring forth in your life
Watch for the boys of Mexico City
As they strangle rats for tonight’s supper
Sitting in a quiet office
Waiting for the phone to ring
Speaking with a shoeshine man
I hear the virgin sing:
I am here under the sky
I must survive.
At what cost do we shoot ourselves
And poke our brothers in the eye?
Introspective, homespun folk tunes from John Donne that feel informed by the sugary bleakness of '80s and '90s indie pop. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 1, 2023
The first solo release in over a decade from Bev Lee Harling is a personal travelogue filled with euphoric compositions. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 20, 2021