Bixby

by red steppes

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about

Track 4 off of "A Mouth May Grow", the forthcoming full-length. I'll be doing pre-orders soon, so you can also grab this then (along with the other ten official tracks, and a little extra bonus song for those who grab the whole thing).
lyrics

lyrics

You lay your belly on the stone
You put your face down in the water
You wore my eyes; you wore your grandfather's sweatshirt
You wore that winter light as if it were hood

You hung your head out like a dog
You drove the heat from me, you hollered
I turned the cliff. I turned my cold collar upward.
You turned your lips to see your teeth bared to the wind

But send no calm to cover me
no postman and no pale grey gull
no road to the bridge above Bixby
In our aimlessness we are faded
In our nights, man, we are all our own

And January is a joke
January is a fever
Your feet were cold, your faith could not be recovered
You bought me for a square of chocolate, and a poem

I broke the turnstile and the phone
I broke the mouth of copper wire
I ate the basin with it's clandestine orchard
I took your face in both my hands and watched it fall

But send no calm to comfort me
No postman and no pale grey gull
No road to the bridge above Bixby
In our aimlessness we are faded
In our nights, man, we are all our own

And we have both been castaways
but you're not sinking in these shallows
I am not letting go, and I do not agree to follow you down
You bear that heavy load; I am prepared to hear it now

But send no call to comfort me
Come quiet or come not at all
by the road to the bridge above Bixby
On the face of it, nothing's fated
but in the nights, man, we are right where we belong

credits

released April 27, 2017
Nika Aila States: vox, songwriting, production
Jamie Riotto: engineering, production
Mateo Lugo: guitar, bass
Andrew Maguire: drums/percussion
Robert Shelton: piano

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red steppes Portland, Oregon

aural/visual/textuals
by Nika Aila States

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