What Evening Brought
When I find myself
thinking like a child
I call myself on it
I fight till the death
for the meaningless parts
but to no avail
Conflict risen
All has been well
Only to know
that the next
pink sun will
bring birdsong
Carried by the
Red of robins
Come evening
There will only
be crows
Just a little song and poem. The music is a reflection of the poem and the video is just something pretty with small connections. The videos and stills were all taken last summer when my brother and I were in Montana. Some of the shots were taken in Wyoming, which is a strange place in and of itself; an awkward beauty in desolation. Most of them are in the Billings area and the Bear Tooth Mountains. Very good places to disappear. I recorded the song a while back by sticking my computer mic into a tin tea can and putting the banjo up real close. The song has an eerie feel about it that I love, it sort of fills in the gaps that the poem leaves open. Not to say that the Poem is lyrics but rather an entity of its own that happens to be good friends with the Song.
