Sunday Best (Week 6)

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Mark Martucci is such a talented singer/songwriter, I don’t even know where to begin. I really don’t think that his music gets enough attention, and I really do think it’s a shame. As a fellow musican, I have come to appreciate the little things that many people may overlook, such as the layering this guy puts into his songs. I bet he has 10,000 layers in every song. (That’s an exaggeration, but you get the idea.) I just love his music. It’s the kind of music that everyone loves to find. I originally found out about him by listening to his stellar cover of Elliott Smith’s “Waltz #1,” but when I actually ventured into his original material, I was in another world. Mark is currently working on a new album. According to him, it’s coming real soon. I, for one, am very excited, and after you guys hear this song, I hope that you are as well.

The Dream

We’re standing on the edge
It’s hard to look down
Through a microscope
To find that we’re alone

Who decides
Who decides what we see?

Classical
(music drowning in the sea)
Floating flora tears breath light into the waves of memory
On and on
(through the nightmares of the past)
I’d do anything, just to hear your voice breathe softly

Who decides
Who decides what we feel?

Fading like a photograph
Losing home
Thoughts are overcast
Lost from Sunday last
I should know
How your smile felt
But I’ll set my sail
On…

Andrew Bird, really, sincerely needs no introduction. He is amazing in every aspect. His music is like a virus. It’s infectious. His violin talent. His whistling talent. His songwriting talent. His ability to write the weirdest lyrics, but make them seem so right. This is a new song, set to be on his upcoming album. Just the line Time is a crooked bow is enough for me, but I wanted to share this wonderful song with everyone. Please listen and enjoy.

Armchair Apocryphists (Live)

I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
of the tangles in your hair

I sang the song that silence sings
It’s the one that everybody knows, everybody knows
The song that silence sings
And this is how it goes

These looms that weave apocrypha
they’re hanging from a strand
The dark and empty rooms were full
of incandescent hands

The awkward pause
The fatal flaw
Time, it’s a crooked bow
Time is a crooked bow

In time you need to learn, to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps, and pull like hell
until gravity feels sorry for you, and lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know
the way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this low

Time’s a crooked bow
Time’s a crooked bow
Time, it’s a crooked bow

Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of a gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah, and armchair calls to you
It says, someday, we’ll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
through the ragweed and barbed wire

You didn’t write
You didn’t call
It didn’t cross your mind at all
Through the waves
waves of hay and straw
You couldn’t feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time
Time

One Response

  1. music is art

    wow… mark matucci… is amazing. that song completely feels like a dream. i love when i can be put into a trance… and have no idea how i got there.

    Reply

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