Sleep
A pillow of cold rocks
A tight wooden box
A firm earthen bed
Dead child dead
A mouthful of sand
Tiny white hands
A young poplar root
Grasp my foot
But there, o there above
The swarm of flies drones
The beast once loved
Comes digging the bones
But no scream
The blue tongue curling numb
O, in that sleep
What dreams may come?
A place
Where no sun beams
The scattered dreams
The small broken birds
The songs unheard
A pillow of cold rocks
A tight wooden box
A firm earthen bed
Sleep, sleep, sleepyhead
I have to restrain myself from being too effusive about 'Anyway, Still'. This is truly unique music of beautiful, beguiling power which resonates long after each listen. A true gift. I'll be eagerly awaiting all subsequent releases. Thank you Exit North. musicconnection
Backed by a trio of jazz musicians, the Taiwanese singer-songwriter develops physical landscapes as a vehicle for stunning sound poetry. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 3, 2024