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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Sparrows

by FLOER

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1.
2.
Smoke 01:34
Smoke time is a ball you hid behind the shelf for one must wait eat them up broken things fill the room with smoke the janitor smiled at the fool with the loaded gun twinned throw, throw, throw fill the room with smoke
3.
Silver 03:21
4.
Swimmers 03:26
5.
East 05:14
East we came down from the mountain we won´t stay carve your name in your locked door close your window shut your curtain tight close your window you can dance till summer´s end you can dance till summer´s end the silverlings beneath your porch were paid just for yourself no silent gift for your smile fills this emptiness you can dance till summer´s end you can dance till summer´s end. the rain kindles your fire the rain kindles your fire we came down from the mountain. the rain kindles your fire
6.
South 04:36
South you stayed too long trace the shadows of your hands one by one you can call it a day now seize the night with silver spoons as the sparrows lost their voices one by one caught and the sky was a blue ribbon in a box the keeper lost its key doubt and the sky was a blue ribbon in a box the keeper lost its key doubt
7.
River 04:54
8.
Twilight shore Wake up, weary traveller; Come warm up by the fire. Take another spoonful now; (it's all that you require.) Wake up, weary traveller; You've further yet to go. Where your journey takes you now (Is not for us to know.) Stand up, weary traveller; We'd love to have you stay, But your footprints are ahead of you: It's time you were away. Go now, weary traveller; Although you may be dead, Follow where the sea-breeze blows: There's one more dream ahead. Walk on, weary traveller; Tire not, weary traveller; Walk on , weary traveller... We wish that we could too... _____ words by mr oCean
9.
Bluebird 04:50
10.
Hunter 03:28

about

An icy fog has filled every space in this tired old city, and gaslight turns it to gold. Every living detail becomes a secret.
As you leave your damp footprints on the cobblestones, the fog swirls, revealing: here, a discarded glove; here, a gull feather; here, a sand-blasted bottle. Movement across a dark window catches your attention and you stop. In the stillness comes the faint lapping of water. There is a weight behind your eyes and the world slips sideways. The warm water rises to meet you. As the light dims to darkness, you catch a hint of a distant voice. It draws you to float onwards.
You drift through memories of dreams. You find a lost blue plush elephant, a lost best friend, a lost favourite jacket, a lost caress and shiver up your spine… At last you come to rest. There had been a bridge here long ago. The last time you were here, not yet ten years old, you knew you’d been here before. Your breath sends curls of mist spinning above the hidden waters of the gulf. This time, you know to let go.
On the other side is a forest, where feathers of frost gleam on bare twigs. In the centre of a clearing stands a lone tree, still holding on to its leaves. All at once, with a single thrum as you approach, sparrows erupt from the tree and leave it bare. Looking around the clearing, you see them hopping between branches.
One bird darts back across the clearing in front of you, and you glimpse something glinting in its beak. It flies back up into the lone tree and hangs the object on a high twig.
A breeze stirs. You can just make out dozens of other tiny objects in the treetop. They are too small to see clearly at this distance, in this murky light, but one-by-one, you recognize them, remember them. You gaze a long while, replaying scenes, echoes of memories, until one sparrow flutters down to your feet. There is a hint of candle-smoke on the breeze.
The sparrow stares up at you, beak open.
( C.Wilson)

credits

released March 10, 2020

words - judith mann
music - floer
saxophone - anna kaluza
double bass - stephan bleier
recorded, mixed and mastered by andreas laudwein

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all rights reserved

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about

floer Germany

Floer are Judith Mann & Andreas Laudwein.

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