Sitting in the wide old weeds, chamber of a church is a skylight stream and if it was the memory burning then the fire was weak.
All us in the wedding line, cry my father’s mother in her cataract eyes, she said she was a saltwater woman and the rain only made her more dry.
Roses kept the hillside red, bowing to the wind fell trees let in, and I don’t mean to say I’ve done nothing but hey I’ve done less than I can.
But I’ll come back when the highway’s a fallen and drawn on the old concrete are the bones of a hand with the words I could be, with the words I could be.
And I’ll come back when the weeds are a steeple, we are all of us now shouting out loud when you rob this house, when you rob this house.
Take a table waiting for the rain, tell her how the record was a kid that ran away and how your fingertips got thin and you quit cause they bled and they ached.
All us in the wedding line, she’s back laughing and passing out wine and everybody calls her a poet but they say it and they’re rolling their eyes.
We were hoping she would get right, find him by the creek set it down apologize, but there were the wolves at the window and they took her in the middle of the night.
Now something takes the shine from your speech, cousin I could live for more than cutting down trees and I don’t mean to say it’s for money but hey it’s the money I need.
But I’ll come back when the highway’s a fallen and drawn on the old concrete are the bones of a hand with the words I could be, with the words I could be.
And I’ll come back when the weeds are a steeple, we are all of us now shouting out loud when you rob this house, when you rob this house.
Portland singer/songwriter delivers a gorgeous Christmas EP, fashioned in the lush style of classics by Bing Crosby and Johnny Mathis. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 23, 2020
supported by 5 fans who also own “The Wedding Line”
Incredible songwriting and vocals. The songs are so beautiful and are full of honesty and freshness. I'm very glad I discovered Julie's music! nick arne