Get all 11 Migrant Birds releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of My Honest Face — Deluxe Edition, Eveline, Stonewall // Asherah, The Debt, Winters Like These, Feel It All, Lay It Down, Shade Grown, and 3 more.
1. |
Appalachian Spine
03:43
|
|||
|
Making my way down the Appalachian Spine
I see the remnants of a half-forgotten time
Barns and bones and cigarettes line the way
Tractor tires strewn along the road
Railway veins carve the lonesome cliff sides
River mumbles sounds like tired moans and sighs
I see the iron ribs and the rotting wooden bones
of old coal towns too long left alone
Ain't it such a shame
to see the land I love out rusting in the rain.
Suffer not this strife
Now sing the stones, let’s bring these mountains back to life
The mines dig deep like a needle into skin
And corporate windows block more light then they let in
As the mountaintops are slowly worn away,
I hear the spirit yearn for yesterday
Ain't it such a shame
to see the land I love out rusting in the rain.
Suffer not this strife
Now sing the stones, let’s bring these mountains back to life
Long ago they say a man took on machine
In Big Bend tunnel there his hammers they still ring
I know it may seem tall the task we have at hand,
but Old John Henry, he was just a man
Ain't it such a shame
to see the land I love out rusting in the rain.
Suffer not this strife
Now sing the stones, let’s bring these mountains back to life
But still I know
These mountain people hold a love for things that grow
Turn back the knife
Now sing the stones, let’s bring these mountains back to life
Dig deep the roots, let’s bring these mountains back to life
Now raise the cry, let’s bring these mountains back to life
|
||||
2. |
Little Hangman
04:03
|
|||
|
Staring down the barrel of eternity
Twelve years gone and still bound to thee
The pain in my ankle guess it’s just as well
Cause the chain and the shackle I put there myself
You a bird of the air, I'm a fish of the sea
Tried to grow a pair of wings but it just won’t be
As you float between the blues like an albatross
I’m just a scared, gaunt sailor here aiming my shot
And I keep writing songs, even though it kills
Drained like a little river through the hills
And I cut that bowstring a time and again
But I’m still no match for that little hangman
Like the pump of the blood, I knew it then
You and me were just synonyms
But sharing a meaning doesn’t make us the same
Yeah the perfect matching pieces rarely have the same shape
So I dove like a hawk and I fought like hell
But fighting yourself never turns out well
Still I know you like the desert knows the shifting dunes
'Cause the who you are won’t be who you are soon
And I keep writing songs, even though it kills
Drained like a little river through the hills
And I cut that bowstring a time and again
But I’m still no match for that little hangman
Well I know you’re not a bird, don’t belong in the hand
And the jail of a bush you never could stand
But you can’t put a heart on lay-away
So I guess I’ll go ahead and put mine in the grave
And I hope it’s just imbalance of the chemicals
And there ain’t no such thing as being in love
But staring down the barrel of eternity
I know the arrow of time will never point to thee
And I keep writing songs, even though it kills
Drained like a little river through the hills
And I cut that bowstring a time and again
But I’m still no match for that little hangman
|
||||
3. |
Lost Art
04:41
|
|||
|
Oh, to know the Earth in my footsteps
Oh, to know the air in the breeze
Oh, to know my friends in the roads and bends
Through hallways drawn in trees
Oh to know, oh to know
Oh to know, oh to know
Well, the thunder rumbles the mountains
And the flashbulbs light up the sky
But up the mountain spine walk your feet and mine
We remember a time gone by
Oh to know, oh to know
Oh to know, oh to know
Well, the walking art is a lost one
Flashing colors cover our eyes
But down the rocky road we will come to know
One another, Earth, and sky
Oh to know, oh to know
Oh to know, oh to know
|
||||
4. |
Suffer Me Not to Fall
03:40
|
|||
|
I lost track of the weight on my back
And the stones caught in my shoes
And I walked all the way from the Evergreen State
just to sing the temptation blues
Burn the devil from my shoulder
The days pass, but I’m not getting older
Oh, let me feel the sting
What a fragile, mortal thing
I left home with a fire in my bones
and a hammer in my hands
But little did I know of the winter and snow
and famine of northern lands
Sloth and sleep and distance and apathy
I’ve lost sight of the race set in front of me
Oh, save me from myself
Like a clay jar high on a shelf
What treasures within?
Commitment worn thin.
Oh, suffer me not to fall
Now I need to wake up from my sleep
and take fate in my own hands,
to follow the snow to the places I know
while the faith I’ve built still stands
Oh, Death where is thy sting?
What a fragile, mortal thing
To be fretted away on the wings of today
Oh suffer me not to fall
|
||||
5. |
Tsar's Last Waltz
04:43
|
|||
|
Alexi, I can’t stop the bleeding
All the power that I hold ain’t enough to stop the cold
Alexi, you gotta try to sleeping
'Cause the hand of the Dark’s reaching in for your spark
And the shadow of the Fall is roaming these halls
My son close your eyes
And know that I’m here by your side
My darling, I can’t stop the bleeding
Cold rooms with empty beds, vacant eyes in distant heads
My darling, these days I’ve been thinking
about walks in the snow in thirty below
about sunnier climes in 1889
My wife you should be here with me
But who is this woman I see?
My people, I can’t stop the bleeding
All these bullets and swords filling hospital wards
My people, the counsel I’m seeking
is a wolf in sheep’s clothes and everyone knows
That his tongue is a snake but my son I won’t forsake
This charmer would sit on the throne
His guile chills me down to the bone
The blood, it runs down my fingers
And I can’t find a sign if it’s theirs or its mine
But still, my thoughts they all linger
On all of the ways that I’ve hastened this day
On the price of the crown when the walls tumble down
I hear a trumpet blast
This waltz may be my last
My darling, I can’t stop the bleeding
Seems the walls of my land were built upon sand
My darling, I find myself sinking
As revolution sweeps in and brings us to an end
Oh, these whispers of freedom mean and end to my kingdom
I love you wherever we are
This man don’t look much like a Tsar
Oh, Alexi, just know that I’m sorry
I was not enough of a man to fetter death’s hand
Now it’s just you and me, here resting in peace
And forever we’ll stay marching on through the gray
My son you won’t bleed anymore
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
Well, I’ve left my roots in more than half a dozen places
Between here and the Pyrenees
And I’ve worn out my soles and broken both my laces
As if I had become the walking tree
But what are all these roots for if they’re constantly uprooted?
What value in the travel in the toil?
Well, my spirit is a pilgrim and it always keeps me moving
and digging just to find the perfect soil
What are all these roots for anyway
If they never have the time to dig in?
Well, I stand by what I said when I left West Virginia
I said I hope I never feel this way again
So who’s the gardener of my feeble leaves and branches?
Who rips me from the dirt year after year?
Well, I’m afraid that I have had my share of chances
That the gardener greets me daily in the mirror
So, maybe I’m a sadist or maybe I’m a wanderer
Or maybe I’m a migrant bird
Or maybe I’m a pilgrim with a mind made to ponder
And feet made to tread across the world
What are all these roots for anyway
If they never have the time to dig in?
Well I stand by what I said when I left North Carolina
I said I hope I never feel this way again
But what a gift to live a life with things worth missing
Oh, what a blessing in the ache
And, oh, how clear when we hear that train a-whistling
Become all of the ones we have at stake
What are all these roots for anyway
if they never have the time to dig in?
Well I stand by what I said when I left Old Castilia
I said I hope someday I’ll feel this way again
|
||||
Migrant Birds Winston Salem, North Carolina
Migrant Birds is an indie folk band from Winston-Salem, NC. Their debut album My Honest Face was released on September 29.
If you like Migrant Birds, you may also like:
Phototherapy EP
by Fahim Rahman
A collection of twinkling bedroom folk-pop demos from Fahim Rahman that arcs from hushed intimacy to sweeping cinematic emotionality.
go to album
The Same Mistakes
by Hot Left Pole
Soft-as-a-whisper folk music, with spiderwebs of guitar and vocal melodies as comforting as a lullaby.
go to album
Whispery indie folk from the UK, “Hard Work” cradles soft and gentle vocal melodies in a nest of acoustic guitars.
go to album
The Creature That I Call Myself
by Julie Arsenault
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 21, 2015
go to album
Would the Light Hold Me
by Oceanique
Celtic-inspired instrumentation, delicate harmonies, and reflective lyrics abound on the sisterly indie-folk duo's debut album.
go to album
Introspective pop songs with transcendent melodies offer a joyful meditation on staying present in a world that often moves too fast.
go to album
Feel The Ground You Walk Upon
by Lewis McLaughlin
Old-fashioned fiddles harmonize with rippling synths on the Scottish singer-songwriter's latest collection of original folk songs.
go to album
