Slow, and counting all,
By the mirror line we swore.
Wait, your lashes tell your fate,
By the thumb of winter late.
Glow, our bodies cold and dawn,
In bliss we found ashore.
But you, you hold onto,
The limbs you need to make.
Wake, your eyes are filled with stains,
In twin are in your state.
Call, the relics hung by low,
Of awe you found bestowed.
Don’t go, you’re falling into the trove,
And all but ceiling lone.
In bloom you found yourself.
released June 2, 2013
All Music and Lyrics written By Chris Jones (These Brittle Bones).
Recorded and Mixed by Leonard Soosay at Snakeweed Studios.
Piano, Vocals and Synth layouts by Chris Jones (These Brittle Bones).
Violins and String Arrangements by Karen Lee.
Additional Programming by Leonard Soosay.
Mastered at Sage Audio.
all rights reserved