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To Belong to the Willing

from home recordings (2012) by Max García Conover

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Sunday Sessions: "To Belong to the Willing"
Available from January 15 - January 22

"To Belong to the Willing" is a function of Thursday's snowstorm (as well as the bitter cold temperatures that have since made it possible to stand on the snow without breaking through).

I wrote most of the lyrics to this song in bed on Friday night. I meant to figure out some words for a rockin' section at the end, but the weekend got in the way (who would write songs when you could catch a private performance by an amazing opera singer, hang out in the bed of a compost truck, and watch several harry potter movies?). So there may be more to this song the next time you hear it. And hey, how about making that next time Friday, February 10 at Mayo Street Arts -- www.brownpapertickets.com/event/220427

Thanks for listening,

Max

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lyrics

blizzard came upon this house wood halls within white falls without and sits like a pillow on a drum

his words are few with passersby he talks of weather hi goodbyes and stares into their eyes until they're gone

and fossil trees let sound the geese a thousand miles from what they need too slow to south too hungry now to leave

calling out to be allowed underneath the gathered clouds nevermore to seek and nevermore recede

--sighs when a white sky calls him sun, his voice gotten so thin
ponds in december never fed no one, but on frozen reeds he stands,
to belong to the willing

and there his boy who hides from winter except to gather sticks to send her for months he is as seldom as the rain

he sees his dad atop the reeds breathing slow and balancing where he thought only spiderwebs remain

so towards he turns and through he moves she said look to the left of you and kissed his cheek and took off through the yard

like in the man atop the reeds a yellow light begins to blink and suddenly he sees there's so much dark

--

credits

from home recordings (2012), released December 3, 2011

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