All the rocks
Are rising up in smoke
Every city feels like Jericho
I’ll be leaving with a keening cry
Drinking water
Till the river’s dry
And spirits come alive
To tell stories
Of a losing love
Share the hurt out
Between everyone
To keep on talking
Till I find some truth
To keep on walking
Till my muscles move
Where the old piano will play
Those same ragtime notes
Its cracked yellow keys
Singing the oldest song
Everybody knows the tune
Everybody hums along
Whether they like or not
Whether they’re rich or poor
Whether they’re quick or slow
I’ll meet you there
With everything I’ve got
I’ll meet you there
With nothing more
I’ll meet you there
In my last shred of hope
In all my gaps
In all my cuts and holes
And the old brass bell will toll
As preachers shout and stomp
He’s the dying lamb
He’s the living God
And though my tongue is tied
And every step is short
I’ll hold my head up high
I won’t let it fall
Dressed in the deepest blue
Feeling the deepest doubt
Put on your dancing shoes
Honey we’re heading out
And we are going to blow
This city right through the fog
And we are going to live
Like we never lived before
Even if it won’t mean a lot
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2022
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2022