Absence

by Alanna Eileen

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Michael Keerdo-Dawson
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Michael Keerdo-Dawson Words cannot adequately describe the delicate nature of Alanna Eileen's voice, which marries so perfectly with her delicate brand of folk. Like taking a relaxing bath in melodic loveliness. Favorite track: Absence Tonight.
philip johnson
philip johnson thumbnail
philip johnson Has a naturalness that sets it apart from the usual cliches Favorite track: The Mirror and the Mime.
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03:41
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04:09

credits

released January 18, 2015

Produced, recorded and mixed by Mark Myers
Mastered by William Bowden
All songs written by Alanna Eileen
Guitar and vocals by Alanna Eileen
Accordion, piano, electric guitar, strings, drums by Mark Myers
Cover art by Lilli Waters

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Alanna Eileen New Zealand

Alanna Eileen may just have one of the purest voices you've ever heard.

- Best Before

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Track Name: Reliquary
When the bird comes to your hand,
you close your fist
and slip into a waking dream,
never saying what you mean.

Callow raider on the edge
of my dark unveiled,
lope towards the hazy brink,
trees like lines of scattered ink
against a red horizon.

Your memory is no more
than dust and ash to me,
carried in my mind;
I am a reliquary.

I have seen the way
you pin the meat up high,
threaded through with silver thorns,
butcher bird, awake at dawn,
to taste the sleeping marrow.

Your memory is no more
than dust and ash to me,
carried in my mind;
I am a reliquary.

Put a hair in the wound
to lessen the effect;
you will be home soon,
fabric fraying at the neck
where it is torn.

When the bird comes to your hand,
you close your fist.
Track Name: Absence Tonight
If you want me to, I will go away from you.

I saw you standing by the stairs,
the light playing on the fine hairs
above your lip; but I must slip
from dreaming's grip
to reach through
the myth I made of you.

Out of sight is out of mind,
but you are slipping through the fingers
of absence tonight.

All the days rush into a drifting mist.
What remains is never any more than this:
when you walked out into the flood
the moon was streaked with rust and blood
and all the stars bent down to taste
the water in your eyes.

What could I do
with the myth I made of you?

Out of sight is out of mind,
but you are slipping through the fingers
of absence tonight.

I stay close to the borderline,
because I know it's almost time.
When I look to you, I find
you're slipping through the fingers
of absence tonight.

If you want me to, I will go away from you.
Track Name: Clear
You left my dreams in open air
to lure me from the water where
I had been reaching in
to catch the fish that glittered like
pieces of a broken mirror
in the light that fell in fine
threads of silver; I remember
when you mixed your breath with mine
on a road that ran between
a row of poplar trees;
I saw our faces indistinctly
reflected in a muddy stream.

It has been such a long time,
but now the end is here
it runs clear.

I heard the ringing of a chime;
I heard the closing of an eye;
I saw you leave, but hesitation
kept me from questioning where or why.
When all we do is war and worry,
troubled by a mandatory
enslavement to flesh and blood,
the transience of all we love.
I have seen the way the night
leans towards the day.
I think of you as of a sight
that gets further and further away.

It has been such a long time,
but now the end is here,
it runs clear.

Alone, I wait for you,
though I know
you will never reappear.
It is clear.

Of all the things I failed to learn,
the only ones I can recall
are why all others go away
and why I always fall.
Track Name: First Curse
Holding mine, your hands looked to be
cups into which my colour flowed,
leaving me whiter than cuttlebone
while you flared bronze and rose.

In the darkened kitchen, at midnight,
I watched you, buttering the bread,
pouring milk from a jug.
Moving at the point of freedom, I bow
to the delicate persuasion
of your soft-edged mouth.

I am besieged, scrabbling in the dirt
for what I used to be, pressing on the hurt
of my first curse.

Only so, because I cannot lean
into love without breaking my back
on the walls of strange indiscipline
and feelings you soon lack.

A jacket of bones is easily torn;
we walk along together, though our shoes are worn.
For you, for you and nothing more,
I would strip bare the wound I wore.

I am besieged, scrabbling in the dirt
for what I used to be, pressing on the hurt
of my first curse.

All of the things you can hold in your hand.
All of the words I did not understand.
All of the thoughts I was trying to hide.
All of the footsteps that lead from your side
into the ebon crush of night.

With my pockets inside-out
and lace under my chin,
I walk, unspeaking, 'round the yard,
alone and circling.

The air is made for birds' wings,
blossoms and the scent
of creeping star flowers
growing by the fence,
though they withered on
the day you left.
Track Name: The Mirror and the Mime
I was flying over, trying to find a place to land;
the roads intersected, like the lines in my hand.
The runway turned to vapour;
I floundered in the breeze,
and like a genuflector, I came down on my knees.

Please, don't wait for me.
I'm late for the party;
I'm lost by design;
I'm just an imitator,
like the mirror and the mime.

I was trying to solve the mystery;
I found luck, holed up with misery
in the corner of a basement on my street;
I joined them there, to dream.

Please, don't wait for me.
I'm late for the party;
I'm lost by design;
I'm just an imitator,
like the mirror and the mime.

Your words turn to birds and fly away,
but something always remains.
You're playing a part that doesn't change
and you don't question why
you're like the mirror and the mime.

All I'll remember, I suppose,
is only the shadow of a pose:
your face to the window,
your back to the wall,
watching night fall.
Track Name: Stranded
I have seen the way you knit your brow;
I have seen the night come falling down.
But I know it won't be long;
we will soon be moving on.

Blood upon the mountain,
the evening light
stains the summit crimson
for a while, before it sinks
into the black; I am never
coming back.

You leave me stranded
in a dream of being empty-handed.

I know there is poison
on the tongue
that lapped the muddy dregs
where waters once ran
down to meet the sea below.
Now, they have nowhere to go.

You leave me stranded
in a dream of being empty-handed.

Do you know what you do to the day?
Do you know what you do to the day?
You leave the day in such a way
that it cannot get to its feet--much
like me--we are grounded by you.

The feathers of a swan
bound 'round my throat;
mistake me for a bird
and let me go.
Dance across the rapids white.
I'll meet you on the other side.