Lovers Parting, Dawn
Words by Kevin Brophy
Music by Jen Lush
Recorded, produced, engineered and mixed by James Brown at Wizard Tone Studios.
Words by Kevin Brophy
Music by Jen Lush
Recorded, produced, engineered and mixed by James Brown at Wizard Tone Studios.
Mastered by Michael Lynch at Shoehorse Sound
This is the first single from the coming album of poem songs, 'Hum of the Mettle' due for release in August 2023.
"it's a ballad for a while.." Kevin Brophy
"it's a ballad for a while.." Kevin Brophy
Band
Jen Lush - vocals
Sam Cagney - acoustic guitar
James Brown - electric guitars
Mark Seddon - bass guitar
Paul Angas - drums
Jen Lush - vocals
Sam Cagney - acoustic guitar
James Brown - electric guitars
Mark Seddon - bass guitar
Paul Angas - drums
Video credits
Film concept and Production by Tobin Lush, Camera, edit, colour, title design by Tobin Lush.
Film concept and Production by Tobin Lush, Camera, edit, colour, title design by Tobin Lush.
Poem / lyrics
Lovers Parting, Dawn (Kevin Brophy)
If this rising light is needed
before we can begin to speak of love
if you’ve asked that at your grave
seeds for birds be left there daily
and if our hearts always stutter
something far beyond our words
we begin this day in song
to the absence of our song
just as tombstones keep
a hooded silence
despite their chiselled messages of love
lifting smoky filaments of hope into morning fogs
And if in the coming death of day
small birds sing with hearts dark and red
and dangerous as any universe of woe
where each dawn unloves what night has loved
do not say that love does this or life
for the seeds bringing songbirds to your bed
will always break the earth in spring
and seal within what winter takes into itself
where we know the grave is long and long and long
and our frail hearts alive in love are never more than song
If this rising light is needed
before we can begin to speak of love
if you’ve asked that at your grave
seeds for birds be left there daily
and if our hearts always stutter
something far beyond our words
we begin this day in song
to the absence of our song
just as tombstones keep
a hooded silence
despite their chiselled messages of love
lifting smoky filaments of hope into morning fogs
And if in the coming death of day
small birds sing with hearts dark and red
and dangerous as any universe of woe
where each dawn unloves what night has loved
do not say that love does this or life
for the seeds bringing songbirds to your bed
will always break the earth in spring
and seal within what winter takes into itself
where we know the grave is long and long and long
and our frail hearts alive in love are never more than song