Don’t explain all the things that you want us to know
Other times, and Mechthild, and the things of the future
Praise and love, all your doves, all these mad ideas of progress
Then in prime hypocrisy, there’s that sad day in August
Oh the end, far away, monastic men of the grave
Royal walks far from home, New Atlantis, bye Bensalem
Holy heart you melt for us, but what madness waits the sinner
Selfishness; can’t respect all the things we are promised
Holy heart, you melt in quiet fever
And we know that you won’t believe us
Full neglect of the pages written
Congregate in our flawless reason
Call us back a final time, the heavens wait, and nothing takes me back to the wretched earthly place where I can’t speak, and oh my heart - it will always break over you
Bringer of utopia, a songbird sings that nothing takes me back to the wretched earthly mind I had where I was never right, and my body was a temple of the sadness that I knew
A brittle stone palace, oh this monastery collapses on you
Thousands of these wasted years creating all the luxuries that we love; all the wars of world’s past and conquests and this shedded blood - but in my selfish state I see only what I want
Call me back a final time, the heavens wait, so nothing takes me back to this wretched earthly place where I can’t speak, and oh my heart - it will always break over you
A pedal to the dust became the crux, now out of view
On “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable May 7, 2018
A compelling call of obedience to all the sorrows of material death and the abyss of waters in which all the ineffability and beatitudes of dragons dwell. Anatomy of the Heads