More Vashti Bunyan lyrics
Same But Different
I'm in a boat
On the sea
And I see
You on the shore
So sure
Of yourself
You're in a boat
On the sea
And you see
Me on the shore
So sure
Of myself
We're in a boat
All at sea
And we see
We are the same
The same
But different
Across the Water
Fall into sleep as the sun comes up
And wake at the back of noon
Drift through the hours as the sun gets lower
Till the days are lit by the moon
Every day is every day
Can't tell one from the other
Wait to fall at the end of it all
As stones skip across the water
Lived on wit, got away with it
Hummed a universal tune
Found a thread away in the head
Followed it over the moon
Every day is every day
One foot in front of the other
Learn to fall with the grace of it all
As stones skip across the water
Winter Is Blue
Winter is blue
Living is gone
Some are just sleeping
In spring, they'll go on
Our love is dead
Nothing but crying
Love will not find even
One more new morning
Why must I stay here
Rain comes, I'm sitting here
Watching love moving
Away into yesterday
Winter is blue
Everything's leaving
Fires are now burning
And life has no reason
I am alone
Waiting for nothing
If my heart freezes, I won't feel the breaking
Why must I stay here?
Rain comes, I'm sitting here
Watching love moving
Away into yesterday
Train Song
Traveling north, traveling north to find you
Train wheels beating, the wind in my eyes
Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you
Call out your name love, don't be surprised
It's so many miles and so long since I've met you
Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you
But suddenly now, I know where I belong
It's many hundred miles but it won't be long
What will I do if there's someone with you
Maybe someone you've always known
How do I know I can come and give to you
Love with no warning and find you alone
It's so many miles and so long since I've met you
Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you
But suddenly now, I know where I belong
It's many hundred miles and it won't be long
Diamond Day
Just another diamond day
Just a blade of grass
Just another bale of hay
Hope the horses pass
La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
Just another field to plough
Just a grain of wheat
Just a sack of seed to sow
And the children eat
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Just another life to live
Just a word to say
Just another love to give
And a diamond day
La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Some Things Just Stick in Your Mind
The production values remind me ofthe bad imitations of the Beatles in movies in the 60s, written by composers of a generation earlier who have not understanding of what was going on, no clue of what "groovy" is.
Why does the sky turn grey every night
Sun rise again in time
Why do you think of the first love you had
Some things just stick in your mind
Why does the rain fall down on the earth
Why do the clouds keep crying
Why do you sleep curled up like a child
Some things just stick in your mind
Why when the children grow up and leave
Still remember their nursery rhymes
Why must there be so much hate in their lives
Some things just stick in their minds
Some things just stick in their minds
Some things just stick in their minds
William Anderson
I compose, play plucked instruments, run ensembles, produce concerts, and advocate for new music, I soaked up contemporary American music for 30 years, working directly with composers from all over the map. In the last 20 years I began composing works that draw on that experience, with a particular concern for finding a coherent way to make reconciling musics that were sealed off from one another. How to make embarrassingly simple and charming music work with the most complex musical modalities? Tipping in this direction has made me aware of the dangers of grasping too firmly onto any one notion.
I've come to Macherey's vision that our shadow (what we're *not*) is radiantly present in our work. So it's perfectly reasonable to *love everything*. We're imbricated. --
**The true necessity of the text manifests itself in the fact that not a word of it can be changed and nothing can be added, even though it appears at each moment as though a new topic could be chosen, an alternative narrative selected. But it is precisely this ceaseless shadowy presence of other possible phrases which could be pronounced, this ineradicable sense that things could have been other than they are, which enforces the constraining necessity of the text we actually have before us.**--Macherey