He left home for the world outside the window. The wind blew the willows and he followed far from his pillow and bed. He had a headache from the same old space--despite the chains his will was strong. He'd been looking through stained glass
for far too long.

The path was clear but the fog was ever so deep. Those he met on the way never stayed, never strayed in step or speech. Either you're coming or you're going--deafly marching to a song's steady beat. They'd been looking through stained glass
for far too long.

Houses marked the roads but the gates were tall. He climbed, fell, and crawled--he knocked on doors that were always locked. She looked into his face only to remark how wrong the colors seemed. She'd been looking through stained glass
for far too long.

Panes see the sunrise like eyes that haven't closed all night. Though a mist veils roof and trail, his smile isn't a stranger's guise. Being neither here nor there but forever in between doesn't mean you can't belong. You've been looking through stained glass for far too long.

Stained Glass

Build a house to crown a future
Tear one down to douse the past
In a world where much is fleeting
Need a crutch that everlasts
And time is on your side
But we seldom ever learn
Time's a traitor in the end
In leaving--never to return
But don't hang your head in sorrow
For now is just a thought away
You can't do everything with all of your tomorrows
But you can do anything today.

A man gets used to anything
Of this we all stand accused
For every ship in my heart's harbor
There are ten my lips refuse
The light upon my map
Comes from the very sun
That will shine upon the treasures
Even when the day is done
Whether you beg, steal, or borrow
Either way you gotta' pay
You can't do everything with all of your tomorrows
But you can do anything today.

Dismay, my friend, is far too easy
When you only see October leaves
Protection is an age-old practice
When you've been told we are all thieves
This is it: my only heartbeat
These are the only hands I know
It's true that no one lives forever
It's true that seeds can only grow
So to those who sulk and wallow
Don't try and dress this in cliche
You can't do everything with all of your tomorrows
But you can do anything
You can do anything
You gotta' do something today.

Anything (Whistling Song)

Get the cows to open ground--quick the barn is burnin' down
Like a sunset on the farm-town you were born in
Now I pray for rainy days and hope the stars will always stay
I'm never sure quite what to say to the mournin'

Your picture's still there on the wall
In springtime your untimely fall
Reminds me that the call is always wild
And since you've gone--make no mistake--
Oh lord, oh lord, how my heart aches,
For I, like you, was born a crying child
A crying child

In the ash you'll try to trace the everychanging face of grace
From memories you can't erase if you wanted
I don't know but I've been told
The streets up there are lined with gold
But that the house that you'll be sold is old and haunted

Your picture's still there on the wall
In springtime your untimely fall
Reminds me that the call is always wild
And since you've gone--make no mistake--
Oh lord, oh lord, how my heart aches,
For I, like you, was born a crying child
A crying child

Images will take me back but they just remind me of what lacks
It's us--the young, the facts we didn't follow
And I cry for "you" and I miss the "we"
But we each have our own destiny
And eternity is just love of tomorrow

Your picture's still there on the wall
In springtime your untimely fall
Reminds me that the call is always wild
And since you've gone--make no mistake--
Oh lord, oh lord, how my heart aches,
For I, like you, was born a dying child
A dying child
A dying child.

Crying Child

Never said that he moved on; just took all the pictures down
Her body harbored the demons and his bride's now in the ground
A casket is not closure--it's just some out-of-the-way place
He knows not to go to the graveyard because he'll never forget her face

The FBI was after mother and those weren't the good-ole' days
When she hopped that bus to Milwaukee we young sons and daughters prayed
"Mary, loving mother, your love we couldn't doubt.
The psychiatric ward (I guess) we simply shouldn't talk about."

There's a gap between real and imagined and there ain't no fence, no cops
You live just by understanding that you can't survive the drop.
Either fear or faith it's called--you died in your firstborn's arms
At the bottom of bridalveil falls, Mother Mary: be my good luck charm.

Bridalveil Falls

Thomas Kivi is an alt-roots artist from Minneapolis, Minnesota.  He paints pictures of tragedy and triumph in 21st century America with songs that are as old as they are original. From the somber finger-picking story of a mother's suicide "Bridalveil Falls," to a country song about a tragic barn fire “Crying Child,” to the existentially urgent, upbeat anthem "Anything (The Whistling Song),” Kivi's poignant lyrics and simple melodies harken to older songwriters like Bob Dylan and Townes van Zandt while his full-band arrangements place him among contemporary acts like Avett Brothers, The Mountain Goats, and Dispatch.


Thomas Kivi

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