You Once Were Home

A Stranger's Home

A Killer (Or at Least Self-Centered)

Control Freak

Summertime will leave you
Looking out on the past
Wintertime will find you
When you’re down, looking up

Fears in my soul ignite
You and I can be here
In my only other part

Autumn fruit
Will bleed out in a stormy night
Springtime often stutters for a while
At the back of your mind
Then it’s gone
Then it’s gone
Gone

I’m blue as the sea
As the stars
As ice
Fears in my soul ignite you
But I'll have you here
In my only other part
Until I die

Forgive me
You don’t deserve this

Forgive me
You don’t deserve this
I won’t forget my mother’s learnings
I’ll keep you proud now I’m alone
Forgive me
If I take a moment

Forgive me

Dear Heart

Steady Love

All Music & Lyrics by The Dawdler
Produced by Trewin Howard
Artwork by Wolfgang Paradisio & Mark Brown
Akira Records 2022

Lyrics:
Louise is always telling me, get zen
Embrace the spiritual side, feel it

But I just can’t get you
Out my dark dreams

When I drink I don’t do it for anyone
But my inner demon that kicks me

When it’s too late I’ll feel all my terror go

Get Zen

The Trees Are Talking

"Spirits" was written, recorded, and produced by Cujo Moon in Nashville, TN. 

Lyrics:

Without your love 
I’m not much
Sunny days you can take them away 
Make the brightest light feel quite like rain 

And I want to fix 
Everything 
I hate to be the reason
You’re missing 
You’re missing 

We were just fine 
Earlier before my eyes
Left you 
Feeling alone 
How such small things 
Cause so much harm 

And I want to fix 
Everything 
I hate to be the reason
You’re missing 
You’re missing

Last night while we were driving
Escaping the city for some silence
The sun set over the prison
And the deers ran in the distance 
I swear we saw through  
Everything 
Our spirits were free
Even if momentarily
But now we’re missing

Spirits

Lyrics:
In us something growls—no plea, just sign;
Dress shoes full of forest sand—ready on the line.
On paths where memory powders down to dust,
Too soon departed; breath turns slow and hushed.
Family, tradition—half-bowed in the rite;
I lift a little pebble—same longing, tight.
My polished soles scrape hard along time’s flint;
We cling to leaves that whisper in the…

Wind over us, wind on the face,
Wind—wind—our hearts grow soft and light.

(2x)
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.

No grave—only ash that travels, lets go in the wind;
Learn to bear what will not fall—be patient, kind.
Small stones in my palm—mute language, broken band;
We honor without signs—the breathing no-man’s land.
Between the ribs a hollow bell is spanned;
It rings for all we carry like a handful of sand.

[Chorus] (2x)
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.

She stands—a young widow—still in the square;
Her voice cuts through manners—pain’s the only prayer.
Relics I call pebbles—steam and moss for heat;
Too-early leaving cuts the hand; time ticks in linen sheet.

I weigh the stones—can weight restore his place?
I whisper, “Where’s his grave?”—too hurried a chase.
He sighs, “Only ash—no granite, no stone.”
Our shoulders drop; the silence walks alone.
“Ash,” he repeats—like air above the sea;
I nod, let go, and trace the edge more free.
Names rise like grains; what’s near fits in the hand—
Enough for those who stay to understand.

(2x)
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.
Wind over us, wind on the face;
Wind through this place—our hearts grow soft and light.

Control Freak

Wil Owen

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