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Among the White Birches (w​/​Chris Morris)

from home recordings (2012) by Max García Conover

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Sunday Sessions: Among the White Birches (w/Chris Morris)
Available from March 18 - March 25

The title of my second EP, Birches Lo, comes from this song. Adding some impromptu harmonies is, once again, Chris Morris of Morris and the East Coast (last week's song was one of his). I'll be playing at least a couple shows with Morris and the East Coast in April -- 4/14 at Firehouse 13 in Providence, RI and 4/28 at Frontier in Brunswick, ME.

Tonight I'll play my first show in New York City. I'll go on at The Sidewalk Cafe (94 Ave A) around 730.

Thanks for listening,

Max

lyrics

Among the White Birches

Birches lo, the groves
The smoked white birches grow as the getting goes

I don’t want to come or go
Said the runner to the road
And he turned toward the white birch grove
The dew capped weeds were tongues on his toes

If you turn back
Don’t be like that
Fiction of a floating tree
That sprung a creek where its roots oughta be

Runner stand up
Let the cold night come
Let the ground keep you fed
Making knots out your knees as the getting go the way of the wind

Let the bees nest
In the nape of your neck
Let the bears hold their noses high
As you grow so tall and so deep into life

Birches lo, the groves
The smoked white birches grow as the getting goes

Singing Oh my
Oh my
Roots could run with rain
The earth with all my weight
I’m sure

Dreamer I’ll be
As the runner and me
Peel that thin white bark
Pin it as skin to our legs and our arms

Digging our feet
In the deep green weeds
We stand among the birch
Our days so dense as we holler I grew out of the dirt

Singing Oh my
Oh my
Roots could bring the flood
The earth could hold me up
I’m sure

Singing oh I
Oh I,
Would give my feet as firewood
To live a life that still seems good
Among the birch


Call me immigrant
To the runner said the wind
I just move to pass the time
And my footsteps fall so thin and so light

If you turn back
Another runner in the pack
Know that trees don't grow on air
Don't let the getting get you going when the getting was never even there

Singing Oh my
Oh my
Roots could run with rain
The earth could hold my weight
I’m sure

Singing oh I
Oh I,
Would give my feet as firewood
To live a life that still seems good
Among the birch

Birches lo, the groves
The smoked white birches grow as the getting goes

credits

from home recordings (2012), track released March 18, 2012

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