These pilgrims scorn me, throwing bread and fruit
Not a twitch I give them, imprisoned in a chicken coup
Are they bitter about the money or the long wait in line
To pity one, an angel, and spit the nails of a lifetime
Time doesn't matter
And I'm old enough to know
As I rise up unsteady
On the wings of a crow
The woman thought she knew and had seen my kind before
But to see her lover fallen, she kill what she adore
And the family calculated there was money to be made
Should I thank them for my refuge, thank them for my cage
chorus
Inside my tattered pockets
Balled in the fists of my hands
Behind my breast barely beating
My skin cold, pale and damp
My anger lies sleeping
A tempest cloaked in black
Broken and enormous
Like the wings on my back
This New Haven duo write bright and emotionally resonant folk music where sweeping strings elevate gorgeous melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 23, 2021
Edd Donovan's day job as a social worker brings a sense of empathy to his elegantly constructed political folk music. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 26, 2019