https://artists.spotify.com/c/artist/2gzXe1MitsMjpK7NudXNZf/home

A TV Show Called Earth

Hush! hush!
Listen to the Varied Thrush
The freezing rain has
Pushed them down into the valley
With the rest of us
Flushed
From the comfortably lush
Forest floor
They draw their bows across
Serrated edges of
Musical saws and crush
The frigid, sharply pointed hearts
Of icicles like us

Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush, crush...

Swish! swish!
The Osprey hovers seeking fish
The glassy pond
Displays the menu but won't serve the dish
To birds who wish
To linger when
The air turns cold
Defying pressure
To defer to Cackling Geese
And Western

Gulls, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish,
Wish, wish, wish...

Who doesn't wish they could
Begin
To leave?
Who doesn't wish they could
Believe
In letting something end?
We have these wishes
But we're hung up
On a superstitious
Focus on the family
We see in Collared Doves
With love much stronger
Than we probably
Should ever hope
For ours to be.

Are we a "we are" today?
Will we be a "we will be" tomorrow?
Were we a "we were" already
Long ago?
We don't know
What price makes sense to pay,
So we settle for indebted sorrow,
Never knowing we could dine and
Dash into that nullifying snow.

Thrash! thrash!
The so-called trash birds
Taking baths
Betray their cuteness
In the recklessness with which
They lash
Their lustrous feathers
Petroleum with flecks of ash
In an unseasonable
Puddle
Glaciating fast

Splash, splash, splash,
Splash, splash, splash,
Splash, splash, freeze,
Splash, splash, splash,
Freeze, splash, splash,
Splash, splash, splash,
Splash, splash, freeze,
Splash, splash, splash...

Hush! hush!
Listen to the Varied Thrush
Hush! hush!
Hush! hush!
Listen to the Varied Thrush,
Hush! hush!
Hush! hush!
Hush! hush!
Hush! hush!

Varied Thrush

Fan Fiction

Alchemical Romance

A Bedtime Story

Platonic Best Friend

Not Like That

Ferryman

I thought I had been shot— 
Been shot a thousand times— 
It's not a shocking way to die 
In the fields this side of 
The enemy lines.

But I've fired my fair share of guns, 
And I know full well that bullets 
Don't just fall down from the sky— 
So I opened up my eyes.

I saw a flash of light— 
I saw it through the black—whoa! 
I saw the flooded track— 
I felt the hail upon my back—oh, 
I saw the start of the foggy maze— 
I couldn't see for several days— 
But then a sunbreak finally 
Burned away the haze.

(You know I'd kiss you if I could—ah, 
But my lips are made of wood, 
And it wouldn't do to splinter you 
In an unfamiliar neighborhood.)

I dodged a ball of flames 
Fueled by the dust the sun'd kicked up 
A stone's throw from the tonsil crypt 
I eschewed the beaten path 
On a SUP.

Tight-lipped and planing through 
The murky millrace surface— 
These flavescent leaves, 
Crispy teardrops shed from crying trees— 
Murmurations— 
"'Tis autumn?" 
"No, only fallout," 
Sighed beside 
A chemical breeze.

Oh, stratocumulus 
Oh, circumbendibus 
I saw and ceased to push 
I'd seen and heard too much 
My oar became a crutch 
I sculled into a reef 
It sawed the board in half 
I saw my former single fin 
I soldered lead and tin 
I sauntered out 
I saw interred my kith and kin

(You know I'd hold this post a while 
If I could only learn to smile 
But by the time I've earned the privilege 
Only grimaces will be in style.)

Surf Scoter on the pond 
Coyote on the fescue

Siroccos on the flesh 
Globe lightning to the rescue

An earthly comet rolling by 
A stoic guide toward a new clear era 
No shadows on the sterile mind 
No leks distract the prairie-chickens from their terror

I found a brand new clearing 
Next to the old new clearing 
A welcome change 
From the adjacent older new old clearing 
I didn't feel at peace but 
I didn't feel at war— 
A welcome change.

(You know, I went to your old home 
You know, the site of your new grave 
You know, I'd pay my last respects 
But the respects I have I'd better save.)

Stephan Nance - vocals, piano, synth
Milo Fultz - bass
Tim McLaughlin - trumpet
Merlin Showalter - drums, percussion
Arrangement - Adam Caswell, Milo Fultz, Stephan Nance, Merlin Showalter

Lead & Tin

does ur insecurity ever get so bad that u just wanna yeet urself into a forest and screech at passersby?
more tunes at ratwyfe,bandcamp.com

Not Like That

Bug Hunter