- wind unknown in a room untouched, both as clean as river stones - a darkened throne in a hollow womb, both left baron and un-sewn - so of crowns and so of wings, both as brittle as tiny bones - as thin as ghosts whose shadows pass through abandoned ancient homes - won’t you wrap me in my burial shroud - fire spins in outstretched hands, palms turned skyward holding light - dumbfounded looks on strangers faces let us know we done it right - but trouble seems to always know where to find us as we rest - we pay forth in adorations and we know we too are blessed - so wrap me in my burial should - let the silence melt these wounds and seal my eyes shut tight - and these prayers fly straight as arrows through hell and blackest night - in a hopeless place we fell in love, there’s no escaping what we’ve become - stillness trembles at the mention of the total of the sum - when them horseman come across the hillside we will greet them standing tall - what more to do when faced with that which gallops over where we soon fall - so wrap me in my burial shroud - let the silence melt these wounds and seal my eyes shut tight and these prayers fly straight as arrows through hell and blackest night - lift these burdens from my heart, lay me down with those i love - to the waters of forgiveness melt these memories washed rid of.
This album speaks to the continuum of African diasporic culture that is central to the vibrant canon of Americana folk music. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 29, 2020