Epic songs

Folk Horror Revival - Harvest Hymns. The Twisted Roots & Sweet Fruits of Folk Horror Music - 3

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New York - Addis - London: The Story of Ethio Jazz 1965-1975

Yèkèrmo Sèw

A song to listen to while the lavender spokes whistle against your arms on some fine, June day as your lover sleeps beside you, unaware of the gnats kissing their cheeks.

Lyrics:
Mmm, mmm,
(Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, Gloria)
Night is nuzzling, downy
(Gloria, Gloria,)
The lady's sleeping soundly
(with Eloria, Eloria)
Twitching, forehead frowny
(Gloria, Eloria)
Light is nuzzling down on (you)
(Eloria, Eloria)
My lady's sleeping soundly
Night is nuzzling down on you

Eloria, Eloria [June Demo]

Joy's Reflection is Sorrow

Figs and Flowers

my heart has leapt out of my chest, all to deliver this song to you, my valentine.

lyrics:
how is it the more i learn to loathe you,
i learn i still loved you more
—with all of this hate that’s weighing my heart down—
than you ever did, when I still thought you were pure?

true, a valentine has its smoothness and its edges,
but I never knew love to hold all these rough patches.

...valentine, stop being my tragedy
valentine, you’re ripping my heart from me...

how is it the more i learn to loathe you,
i learn i still loved you more
—with all of this hate that’s weighing my heart down—
than you ever did, when I still thought you were pure?
true, a warmblooded fool can flow and can ebb,
but i never knew love to hold all these distresses!

...valentine, stop being my tragedy
valentine, you’re ripping my heart from me...

O Valentine, My Tragedy [December Demo]

This song was written and produced completely in my dorm with a $20 mic. Forgive me for the oddities it causes. 

Background:
And Eve was told not to eat the fruit, because "she would surely die." Instead, she learned information that she was not given before—she gained a power in that sense; she became the apocalypse.  What other powers are women "forbidden" from, all in the name of holiness? Maybe we should take a bite of that apple, feel some warmth from that lit match, explore ourselves, explore each other. They are baptizing the candles of tomorrow: they are snuffing flames. Why? They're scared of the heat we might just bring to the table. Mwah-ha-ha...

I digress... lyrics!!:
baptiser, baptise her, rose water, soft daughter
rectify and sanctify her, hold a moth and let it flutter
Don’t forget to floralize, don’t vocalize the smoke in eyes
Don’t don’t don’t strike.
catchin’ on that distant lie she’s gotta be divine
death-defier hanging on a burning tether line
then line breaks, spine aches, coiled snake, broken rope and Joanie chokes
they hope her perfume’s stronger than the soul

They’ll put an apple in your hand but don’t you dare bite it
A match and a wick but don’t you dare light it
They say temptation be a sin, don’t look any more behind it
That’s just how it is, don’t you dare fight it
They’ll put an apple in your hand but don’t you dare bite it
A match and a wick but don’t you dare light it
Life’s only meant to live, don’t fill it with excitement
Abstain, restrain, forgive, yeah, that’s how he likes it

Wax-dripper, flame-kisser, lost-livered life giver
Crucify and waterlog the sinner mother, sinner daughter
She could take you by surprise   
Beware the July fire ides
She’s a locked and loaded inferno with underglow she cannot know so drown that power fore it overflows
Sorry man, it’s way to late, her choice is made, the apple’s ate, the candle starts to flicker in a wicked little divine state
Rising and rising, gently respiring

she can’t let the candle burn
She can’t let the candle burn
So they’ve gotta teach her so she knows how to learn
That she can’t let the candle burn

CANDLEBURN

CANDLEBURN (Dorm Demo)

another quick piece, thrown out in basically one night before classes started back up. stubbornness and such. y'all love the more acoustic pieces so have fun

also FYI sang this entire song with a pill literally stuck and actively dissolving in my throat so bonus points for realism there (very painful would not recommend)

LYRICS:
Love: what a gentle drug
Tugs the body, cling to familiars,
Pull, no push.

Love: haunting like the moon
You strummed my guitar ‘till the strings fell out of tune
And every time I play it sounds like you

Every minute I’m away from you it gets
Easier, oh so easier,

Love: a worn-down torn-up glove
Hugs the fingers, at least where it can
Warm, not hot.

Hope: a pill stuck in my throat
Fear of the toke, my type of hope loves to be known
So stubborn I think I’ll choke

Every minute I’m away from you it gets
Easier, oh so easier,
And I mourn the mourning as it goes ‘cause
Momma raised no quitter
Let it be easier please just be easier

Love, Like a Sore Throat [January Demo]

A fox’s scream can eerily sound like a woman’s scream… why are there some who enjoy hunting them, then?
“Foxcry” explores the scary but real scenario that many feminine presenting folks face: others taking advantage of them, and finding pleasure in their pain. This song acts as a visceral callout to the “hunters” that revel in feminine suffering in a masturbatory way.

LYRICS:
He was a hunter boy-boy
Born with hunter arm-arms
Wringing geese necks
On his Papa’s farm-farm
He was a Mama’s boy-boy
He meant the woman no harm
Slinging pelts over his shoulder
But then he couldn’t shoot straight-straight
Something went wrong
He’d kill critters left and right but never pick ‘em up-up 
Hunter boy-boy to a hungry man-man 
Leaving Momma’s love leftover

You just love to see a woman suffer
When she cries you cup her face and say it’s to comfort
Come
As you slip your hands under your beltline
And use her tears to lubricate a good time
I can feel those eyes sinking into me
You hate it when I sing but you love it when I scream
I know why you shoot with your right hand free
Shoo, hunter boy, go skip your stones in a tree

And we foxes have a common phrase
If he can aim, he will shoot so scurry far away
But what about hunter boys, 
boys who play our game
Makin’ tiny cuts at fur until we’re not the same?

Well
We fair foxes learned to grit our teeth
If it’s screaming but not bleeding, then go back to sleep
In these woods, food is scarce, take what you keep
Be wary but don’t heed a hand that’s willing to feed 

You just love to see a woman suffer
When she cries you cup her face and say it’s to comfort
Come
As you slip your hands under your beltline
And use her tears to lubricate a good time
I can feel those eyes sinking into me
You hate it when I sing but you love it when I scream
I know why you shoot with your right hand free
Shoo, hunter boy, go skip your stones in a tree

There once was a hunter boy-boy
Taking part in hunter thing-things
Getting off to killing foxes ‘cause he liked their femme screams
And he’d say: it wasn’t my fault, fault, fault, was an archer’s paradox
Please still love me momma, momma, please still love me, momma
I didn’t mean to kill that fox

Called From the Wind

Steve Von Till