note - I do N O T take A N Y credit for this track and will it remove if I'm asked to by the original creator

Allies or Enemies - by The Crane Wives

Take me to War by The Crane Wives :) uploading this for myself really lol

The Crane Wives - Take Me to War

You Gotta Die Sometime - Andrew Rannells

team best, last life
credits to cherrifire for the cover

the crane w̶i̶v̶e̶s̶ lives - can't have it all

I am working songs from The Beatles, Ritchie Valens, and Buddy Holly!  I will keep refining them and posting new versions!  I would love any feedback!  The image for the cover song of "Real Love" is from a license I have through a subscription plan from Shutterstock.  I am also not earning any royalties from this.

"Real Love"- The Beatles- Sanjay Paul- 8-24-2025

Tracked and Mixed by Ian Gorman at La Luna. Mastered by Glenn Brown.

The Crane Wives - The Garden

from Incredible Distance [EP], releases February 9, 2018 
Stephan Nance - vocals, piano, synth 
Adam Caswell - programming, synth 
Arrangement - Adam Caswell & Stephan Nance

Lyrics:

Try 
To wend your way 
Through the thickest thickets 
And avoid the ratchet call reviews of the 
Gray Catbird critics. 
Easily 
The mimic mews, 
"Be more original"; 
They heard it from 
A bird more qualified to say it. 
Freely 
They propose a game of musical chairs; 
They bend the rules 
So they will win it when they play it. 

Where there's a seat, 
There'll be someone 
Sitting pretty, 
Calling your every shot 
And shooting down 
Your every call for help. 
Your even feet 
Won't ensure an even footing; 
Your standing won't be understood 
In the sedentary city. 

Try 
To look to your laurels 
In a boxwood hedge 
At public capacity. 
Try to rest 
Among the mock-mockingbird–occupied 
Topiary thrones. 
Eerily 
The tin-can chorus vacates the premises, 
Abruptly and without an echo— 
Sturdy and upright 
In the spotlight, 
You emanate your candidacy 
For upholstery. 

Where there's a seat, 
There'll be someone 
Sitting pretty, 
And where the seating's scarce 
You'll get your shot at 
Getting shot at. 
Your beating heart 
Won't save you from a heartfelt beating; 
Your standing won't be understood 
In the sedentary city.

Sedentary City

You tell me that the boat is moving forward— 
Whatever that means when there is no land in sight. 
I’d always pegged you as a shorebird— 
But in light of certain facts, 
I’m inclined to take it back. 

Don’t underestimate me; 
This field of research is my specialty, my specialty! 
I will crack this hierarchy 
If it is the death of me, 
The death of me! 
The death of me… 

You tell me we are sailing on a one-way sea— 
I nod my head and hold my tongue. 
(You are an idiot!) 
You gave me a bum steer, crowing of your lofty views; 
I might have known you were 
A rooster on a booster seat! 

Don’t underestimate me! 
(Clearly there’s no danger of my underestimating you!) 
I will commandeer this vessel 
If it is the death of you, 
The death of you! 

—Must you respond so saltily? 
My faculties… 
Have long been… 
Bursting at the seams… 
Brimming as they are… 
With onomies, 
And ologies, 
And 
Memories! 
Memories! 
Memories! 

Don’t esterundimate me! 
I will hack this crierarchy! 
—Cut me, please—a little slack, I mean— 
Mental tacking’s never been my specialty. 
My knack is for a marked lack of strategy. 
But spin around and take another whack at me 
Look back at me — and see! 
I will stack up properly! 
If it is the death of me, 
The death of me, 
The death of me, 
The death of me!

credits
from A Troubled Piece of Fruit, released 23 July 2012 

Stephan Nance, piano/vocals
Angelica Sather Hodgetts, cello

Stephan Nance — One-Way Sea

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

Oh 
What an 
Unfortunately 
Unsurprising turn of events... 
Oh 
What a 
Conundrum it presents.

Swing with a white-knuckled grip and 
Cling to the pieces of ship— 
Or start in the water and 
End in the water? 
The swells, 
After all, 
Intercept 
Just the tip.

Oh 
What (on earth) can I do 
I want help you (on sea) 
I want to help you unsee 
I want to help 
But if I help you 
I can't help me 
And if I go unhelped 
What help can I be?

But what if everything is okay? 
What if everything is 
Easy for once? 
Maybe everything can be 
Easy for once. 
Maybe everything can just 
Be okay. 
Yay. 
Maybe that isn't a psychopomp 
Maybe that's our lifer Hoopoe. 
Maybe that little Grim Reaper 
Will grow up to be a lighthouse keeper.

Hope. 
Hope. 
Hope.

Hope. 
Hope. 
Hope.

I hit the deck 
A cannonball 
From a diving board 
On the crow's nest. 
Best leave the stunts 
To the unprofessionals. 
Leave the stunts 
To the unprofessionals.

The boat's 
A hoax 
A fantasy of control 
A joke. 
See it for what it is 
Now that it's broke. 
Now we avail ourselves of its 
Splinters and rope 
To impale ourselves 
And hang ourselves. 
Hope is what kept us from 
Learning to float.

Float. 
Float. 
Float.

Float. 
Float. 
Float.

But go ahead. 
Offer me another free cruise on a shipwreck. 
How could I refuse? 
Why can't I refuse?

While there is life, there is hope—so 
Why, for the life of me, can't I just float?

Hope. 
Hope. 
Hope.

Hope. 
Hope. 
As if the water I fear 
Is not the water I bathe in.

Stephan Nance - vocals, piano, synth
Adam Caswell - programming
Milo Fultz - upright bass
Tim McLaughlin - guitar
Shigeki Okubo - drums
Arrangement - everyone

Hope Or Float

The Crane Wives - Hollow Moon

indie chamber pop (bardcore)
pronouns: they/them

Stephan Nance — One-Way Sea

Sparkbird