Green Blade official Video
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1. |
Lines in Our Hands
03:40
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A Line in the sand
Where the dark water rose
Dividing the time
Before and after
In another page of the book
It’s onion skin pressed close
I’m there
When you depart
My hands on the strings
The song of everything unsaid
We’re too complicated
To accept
The simple reality
Of death
The line bends
Revealing a circle
Without ends
We gazed at the side of the hill eroded
Where each bright strip of time is layered as one
And even the oldest trees in the forest
Each dropped leaf feeds the roots of another one
The line is a circle
The tide breathes
But we still break
Our small breaths
Until we return
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2. |
Three Bells
04:00
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I understand the large hearts of heroes,
The courage of present times and all times,
How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of the
steam-ship, and Death chasing it up and down the storm,
How he knuckled tight and gave not back an inch, and was faithful
of days and faithful of nights,
And chalk'd in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer,
we will not desert you;
How he followed with them and tack'd with them three days and
would not give it up,
How he saved the drifting company at last,
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3. |
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Now the green blade rizeth from the buried grain,
Wheat that in dark earth many days hath lain,
Love lives again that in the dead has been
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
In the grave they laid her, love whom men hath slain
Thinking that never she would wake again
Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
When our hearts are wintry, weary or in pain
It’s thy love that calls us back to live again
Fields of our hearts, that in the dead have been
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
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4. |
A Fools Errant
02:11
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5. |
Winter Cometh
03:44
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Middle English
O Wynter wakeneth al my care,
Nou this leves waxeth bare;
Ofte I sike ant mourne sare
When hit cometh in my thoght
Of this worldes joie, hou hit goth al to noht.
Nou hit is, and nou hit nys,
Also hit ner nere, ywys;
That moni mon seith, soth hit ys:
Al goth bote Godes wille:
Alle we shule deye, thah us like ylle.
Al that gren me graueth grene,
Nou hit faleweth al by dene:
Jesu, help that hit be sene
Ant shild us from helle!
For y not whider y shal, ne hou longe her duelle.
Translation
O Winter awakens all my sorrow;
Now these leaves grow barren.
Often I sigh and sadly mourn
When it enters into my thought
Regarding this world’s joy:
How it goes all to nought!
Now it is, and now it isn’t,
As if it had never been, indeed!
What many a man says, true it is:
All passes except God’s will;
We all shall die,
Though we dislike it.
All that seed men bury unripe;
Now it withers all at once.
Jesus, help that this be known,
And shield us from hell,
For I know not whither I’ll go,
Nor how long here dwell.
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6. |
Come Back
02:48
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Pull the roots out, pull the roots out
Shake some dirt off, shake some dirt off
I’m transplanting you, and I hope you make it through
Get the hacksaw out, get the hacksaw our
Cut some branches down, cut some branches down
I am pruning you, letting the sun shine through
Some cuts are necessary, to grow
Even though much later scars still show
It’s never meant to hurt, you know
Somehow it always does
Come back green
Waiting in the dark
For a little spark
I am planting you
Knowing you’ll come back brand new
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7. |
Ariel's Song
00:52
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Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!
Bow-wow.
The watch-dogs bark.
Bow-wow.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
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8. |
In That Country
03:22
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9. |
While We Wait
03:13
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After your last breath
I was breathing like the sea
Waves were rolling endlessly
out of you and into me
After the last breath
Of a body, that made me
With all of its dangers, and difficulties
Death makes the game of life inadequate
It’s the farce we perform while we wait
After your last breath
I was wondering how to be?
What is worth the time now
If we’re all put out to sea?
But I see you and I know you
Though your spoons and cutlery
I’m still making a mess of the time I have left
And you’re set free
Death makes the game of life inadequate
It’s a farce we perform while we wait
While we wait
While we wait
While we wait
While we wait
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10. |
A Harp & A Horn
02:25
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11. |
The Birds Never Left
03:38
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Lyrics adapted from a poem written by my maternal grandmother Kathleen “K” Boyd about the death of her eldest son Martin, who was an avid birdwatcher.
Melody - J Crighton
Jennifer Crighton - Harp, Lead Vocals
Chris Dadge - Drums
Keith Rodger - Bass
Richard Gallant - Hurdy-Gurdy
Nathan M Godfrey - Guitar
Taryn Craig - vocal harmonies
For you, my beloved, there was nothing but springtime, the leaves never fell from the trees
The birds never left, there was no desolation
Just wonder, excitement, and awe
The small woodland creatures, the wide open ocean
The sunsets you saw in the north
For you were creation, with no delusion
You studied, and loved what you saw
Time had no pressure when faced with this lesson
It lived and spoke to your heart
Though we looked and we’re grateful, but dumb to express it
And prayed that you might understand
The cage where you lived with your pain and restrictions
Was peopled within and without
You were closer to them than the widest of travellers
You gave them your wisdom, yourself
The old and the lonely, The wild and misguided
And those whose morals were bad
Never shrank from your presence or felt condemnation
Or turned from a free cigarette
You surrendered your ambition
Your wealth and position, the choice was not yours, but you smiled
As we looked and were grateful, but dumb to express it
And prayed that you might understand
Come my friend, my companion, and let us be going
Nothing here is remaining undone
You know, I know that we all will be going
It’s time now, you’ve suffered enough.
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12. |
Swansong
02:30
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13. |
Band of Fools
03:24
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14. |
Full Fathom Five
00:54
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Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.
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Hermitess Calgary, Alberta
Hermitess is the project of an aging and slightly reclusive witch, dreaming simultaneously in music and images. Sonically, layered orchestral textures, harmonic voices, and pedal driven magic, all conjuring a fleeting fever dream.
