1. |
Little John
02:03
|
|||
Little John cried out in the morning
Snow wet from the spring time sun
Mothers gone, her train came early
Never held her new born son.
Never held her new born son.
Some child is born of silver
Some child is born of mud
No hand from death deliver
No tale not told in blood.
Not tale not told in blood.
|
||||
2. |
Orange Blossom Blinds
04:27
|
|||
Don’t you try boy, you’ll get twisted
Don’t you ask when you already know
Cause the light comes slowly in New Orleans through orange blossom blinds
And the way they grow them trees in the Bayou can tangle up the mind
So Don’t you hide boy, your eyes betray you
And don’t you shy, when you know your part
Cause when strangers hold your hand down on Frenchman in the love of nights return
You can bet there’s a line of heron flying west with a sprig of juniper
And when green circled leaves on white sheets are the table for your feast,
You can taste gifted wine from the bottle to my lips past your knees
Oh were drunk, in a lilac field
Can’t make out whats dream and whats real
And in that crack, yeah that shift,
Oh the twilight, the slip
That’s exactly where I want to be
Me holding you and you holding me
|
||||
3. |
Donata Polo
03:14
|
|||
Staring out my window passed the waves
Haven’t seen a ship pass for days
Tears stain the wood on my veranda
Tracing time since Marco sailed for China
I’m alone in this tower
I call his desperate name on the hour
I sing Marco, Polo,
Your circumnavigation leaves me solo
I sing Marco, Polo,
You circumnavigation leaves me so low, leaves me solo
Staring out my window passed the waves
Haven’t seen a ship cross for days
Soothsayers and matrons at my door
My appetite for pretense no more
I’m alone in this tower
I call his desperate name on the hour
I sing Marco, Polo,
Your circumnavigation leaves me solo
I sing Marco, Polo,
You circumnavigation leaves me so low, leaves me solo
|
||||
4. |
Birds
04:00
|
|||
I talk to birds, they claim I’m the lucky one
They say you fixate on flying but we just yearn and envy for the way you run
Well if birds they dream to run, I’m bird in a tree dreaming under the sun
Cause when I think of you, all the crazy beautiful things you do, I get scared, I get scared and so I run
I walk at night, it’s the only time I can hear myself
Digging out ideas from an orchestra of visions that are someone’s else
All our thoughts aren’t our own, we’re just living in an edit room of tele-prompts and phones
And the space behind our eyes is trophy case for Madison Ave designs
So if you don’t check your head, You better run, run. You better run, run, run
I’ll dream your mind, you can just float off and go blank for some time
I’ll blur the line, between the sapphire goblet and the cellar wine
Chorus:
Stories old, they dry like dirt, you better irrigate if you want earth.
When the past has got your hands, you’re a push-over mannequin in a window’s quick sand
So if you dream before you sleep, you better run run, you better run run run
|
Professor Burns and the Lilac Field Berkeley, California
"Definitely headed to great places" says the San Francisco Chronicle of this Berkeley based, indie folk roots singer- songwriter. Prof. Burns is a rare musical bird with a rich history as a poet, historian, and college professor. Backed by some of California's best, the songs conjure a lyrical and musical vibe the likes of Iron and Wine, Bright Eyes, Ben Harper, Van Morrison, and M Ward. ... more
Contact Professor Burns and the Lilac Field
Streaming and Download help
If you like Professor Burns and the Lilac Field, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp