I used to think I’d live in a house on top of a hill
But I was born in the valley and I’m living there still
From my kitchen window I follow the birds in their flight
But I will never know what that feels like
I am frozen in the shadow of a greater height
I used to think my arms would carry the weight of a child
But I had my true love only for a while
The paths of the woods I walk on the quietest night
But this world will see no children of mine
There’s a cradle in the attic with the moths and mice
Shadows, lengthened when I turned my back,
The lights go; the lights went out so fast!
I used to think that God had a plan for all of us
So I patiently waited to find my purpose
I went to the fields, lying still under skies thick with stars
I thought I would hear a voice if I listened hard
But all I had was my heart beating through the dark
I didn’t know it but you changed me
You were the spectacles that let me see
And when I broke the fragile glass
I spent my life trying to go back
But no one saw me as clear as that
You didn’t know it but I took photographs
Of you in my head every time we met
I keep them all in a gallery
I walk the rooms when I’m asleep
Your face from the frames always looks towards me
This '71 LP from Yup’ik singer-songwriter John Angaiak, reissued by Light in the Attic, is a must for lovers of spare, tender folk music. Bandcamp New & Notable May 21, 2016
Jurado's upcoming LP completes the trilogy of releases built around a character who has had to disappear from society. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 18, 2015