Feb 2022
A song about a book I read.
The storm it never came
But from a strange direction
Carnivals and cold affection
Spirits with no name
The tables and the chairs
Oh, how they would remember
A snow-warmed face in cold December
In the darkened heart of yesteryear
While fragments of a moment
Fly close around my head, I am
Waiting underneath the sword
Suspended by a golden thread
I open all the windows
I try to let the air in
While she wears her own despairing
Like a pocketful of rain
Always in the movies but-not-at the movies
Just waiting for a beauty,
One that would not arrive
Each night she slept a slow dream
Where lovers dressed in beige and cream
Would shower her with flowers
A basketful to make her feel alive
Once there was a holy battleground
Where hearts were melting slowly all around
Like snowflakes she inhaled
Our breath upon the window pane
As we regained atomic scale
For we had squandered all the moonlight
So tender is the night.
@celineellis Feb 2022
ooo that swell of strings really creates anticipation in this melancholy for me. gorgeous guitar work as always, and the understated melody allows the lyric to stand out. lovely stuff Chris!
@mariekevinkmusic Feb 2022
Aaaahhhh always nice to hear the calming sound of Hazeyjane. Great start. Loving the strings (as does everyone else it seems)
@tukayandryan Feb 2022
Classic hazeyjane loveliness. Beautiful metaphors and loved the surprise of the strings too!
@andygriff Feb 2022
PS love the lyrics - took me somewhere else completely
@andygriff Feb 2022
Greetings Chris! Delighted to hear your first contribution. Delicious chords. I like the half-spoken vocals. Wasn't expecting the strings but broke out into a wide grin when they appeared