Phoebe Blume

Phoebe Blume

facebook twitter
Rock - General | Eugene, Oregon, United States
Total Song Plays: 4,049   
Member Since: 2006
   Last Login: over 30 days ago

Profile    Songs    Albums    Photos    Playlists    Comments    Bios    Connections    Endorsements   

Sign up for Broadjam today to follow Phoebe Blume, and be notified when they upload new stuff or update their news!

Plays:

185

Playlists this song is on:
Lyrics

One night an injured creature
was finished off by our dogs
Who ran down to the riverbed
Like a pack of ancient wolves
The moon was small, did not assist
As I flew from our home
To try and offer aid at least
To free the beast from my own

They whipped my legs they whipped my face
The blackberry vines and the Queen Anne's lace
I screamed the names of all my dogs
And when they did not come
I begged to death to hurry

I never saw the creature
I limped home on my bare feet
And you pulled the thorns from sole
While you shook your head at me
And you called me a fool

Do you remember the grey-horned owl
Who tumbled beneath a truck
And I pulled to the side and pulled him to me
And I wept at his beauty and softness
And as you pulled to the side and pulled us to you
We heard another owl calling to him
And though his heart was still as a stone
But the other owl never stopped calling

The road stopped the owl from an evening hunt
A machine, so fast and ugly in front
It never stopped to see what it had done
And I hated it more than I could hate anyone

A beast always knows where it's headed
Because it remembers where it has been
And there's something inside them
That's older than they are
That tells a beast when it's the end.
It tells a beast when it's the end.

Do you remember all of the beasts
That we have herded back to their homes
We stumbled on them constantly
Sometimes together, sometimes alone
Pushing baby goats back through holes
In broken down fence lines
Mending the route of escape
Fixing the problems that we'd find

Through acres of horsetail and fields of aged oaks
And third growth Firs in symmetry
Knocking on doors of empty houses
We've been bringing home the beasts
We're always bringing home the beasts.'

A beast always knows where it's headed
Because it remembers where it has been
And there's something inside them
That's older than they are
That tells a beast when it's the end.
That tells a beast when it's the end.

Through twisted madrone and licorice fern
Our hearts did ache, our hearts did burn
The beasts always knew where to go
From them we needed to learn
Learn from the homing beasts

Song Length
40:40
Genres
Unique - Avant garde, Electronic - Experimental
Tempo / Feel
Medium (111 - 130)
Lead Vocal
Female Vocal
Mood
Tense

Subject Matter
Frustration

Era
2000 and later

Lyric Credits Phoebe Blume
Music Credits Phoebe Blume
Producer Credits Andrew Machin
Publisher Credits Phoebe Blume
Performance Credits Phoebe Blume and Andrew Machin