The witches are gathering, gathering
Our father is wandering, wandering
The coming cold
I’m scared, Oh I’m scared I, I don’t have it
As I wear my Sunday habits
With no thought, for your arms for the sabbath
The coming cold
The coming souls
One found us, my sister, in a dream
To spare us in silent room these whitewashings
The coming cold
The coming souls
The wishes, we send them, on the wind
With smoke of protection on the wind
The coming cold
The coming souls
Healing, timing
Heal me, diamond!
Healing, timing
One found us, my sister - in a dream
She pulled us from the banquet hall - safe and seen
The light bathed green - eerie sweet, child dream
She spared us in that quiet room those whitewashings
The coming cold
I studied up indifference shut out neighbor’s need
And the stop sign holds some shotgun holes I can’t read
A braille I must decipher — trust that love can grow
Between the coasts, the blood that boasts
Amer-alone-ican
The bar-fight night — We sit inside
Amer-alone-ican
The distant lights - take me outside
Amer-alone-ican
On “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable May 7, 2018
The Alabama duo's fifth album exults in dusty Americana, showcasing rich vocal harmonies alongside blissful folk instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 31, 2024