1. |
Please Come Home
02:05
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My heart is a hammer
My throat's full with nails
I built you the house you said you wanted
but couldn't live there
I beg you with love
by speaking in bones
The doors are all open
and wanting you to come home
To lift the spell from these trees
Sing in my choir of pine
Start a fire I can feel
I beg you with love
and plead from my bones
I can wait forever
but darling please come home.
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2. |
Boy Constellation
02:32
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3. |
This Flesh isn't Home
05:52
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Oh, we lost our heads y'know?
We set out to open doors
and carried hatchets left half-buried in the sand
like it was always part of a great big plan...
But it wasn't.
Now at the baggage claim
We walk off like we had never been on a plane.
Now I don't know my shoe from my hand,
but I know that you understand when I say
Beyond this house and these bones
This flesh isn't home.
The bridge is out y'know?
We burned it before we crossed it
but that's ok
because the faith that I've found in this room to be true
and the wolf's blood drips from the lamb's white tooth
and everything I've ever learned has all been a lie
that I've swallowed to harden my insides.
Now I don't know my shoe from my hand,
but I know that you understand when I say
Beyond this house and these bones
This flesh isn't home.
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4. |
The Breadth of my Bones
04:22
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In my just woke up and still tired eyes everyone turned their back and walked away. What had I done in my sleep? Where did I go in my dreams? I clung to what little made sense with shaking hands leaves fittering in the smoke of a forest fire who's flames were the echoes of your voice, that brought me in to life! It flittered hot and bright. An electric whip-crack and I too was disembodied. Like ash I was suspended, almost dancing in the air for a minute at most. The exciting memory of you saying my name played over and over like a tape-loop that my father's father carved into the strains that make me him, and for that moment I knew only you. I found comfort in that chaos, I was crazy and I was calm.
I shifted from solid to gas then from black to orange. I was sleeping in your car. I was startled by the spark, I was running up those stairs that I knew so well that somehow I forgot there was nine and not ten and my foot fell with more weight than I was carrying.
In my just woke up and still tired eyes no one turned their backs to walk away. Not a single quickstep was taken in my offense, I'd done nothing in my sleep but dream I was somewhere else with you. Everything made sense, like volatile and thin plants catch flame and the leaves of the greater trees dance in warmth naturally and with pride. I thanked my fathers for their wisdome. I was shown absolutely and apparently for a minute at most the breadth of my bones and how clearly you were carved across them.
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5. |
Welcome Home
02:55
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I found a house where no one lives
and spent an hour chipping paint from it's walls
trying to figure out where the family had gone
but there was no trace at all.
The furniture smelled like old cigarette ash
and there was newspaper piled as high as a three-year-old
whose name I couldn't read but I watched him grow
by the marks I found on the door
The creaking doors sing their eulogies
to a time who knows how long ago
when their knobs would turn with surprise
over a mat that read, 'welcome home.'
The kitchen sink was filled with leaves
That fell from the once-tended plants that hung above
that now hang like skeletons near the drapes
like any casualty of love
I found a wedding gown folded in a chest
St. Valentine I know would cry if he felt the stale air
that I gasped when I saw the mold
that covered the lace in disrepair.
The melancholy song of dusty dolls
can be heard from the choir on the shelf'
"Tell us who out there can remember us
for that's all we have left."
I found a house where no one lives
and spent an hour chipping paint from it's walls
trying to figure out where the family had gone
but there was no trace at all.
The creaking doors sing their eulogies
to a time who knows how long ago
when their knobs would turn with surprise
over a mat that read, 'welcome home.'
And I left that house all alone
over a mat that read, 'welcome home.'
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6. |
A City Under Snow
04:11
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She drops her white summer dress to the floor
the lights go out, the cars spin and crash
everything is a quiet audience
to the snowflakes
kissing the snowflakes from the branch.
It all looks dead,
Except for the concrete monsters
with a million brilliant eyes
keeping close vigil
with the same view as the moon
floating silently by.
There's a god here
Swelling in my chest.
I want to scream your name
and put an ocean to rest.
And the minds of bundled children
grow as thick as the snow is deep
as they tunnel through white jungles
that grew while they were asleep
A city under snow,
in a city under snow
there is a god here
swelling in my chest.
A city under snow
swelling in my chest.
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7. |
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Disregard me and the horse I rode in on.
You can send me down the river
With no pennies on my eyes,
I don't mind.
I recall the boy you were when I met you
and how you killed yourself that summer
over a girl who believed in ghosts
and then you somehow became one
but she still couldn't see you.
I've heard rumors and I've seen pictures
that break my heart.
No one's got answers.
Does your mom know where you are?
This is goodnight to the hunter!
I'll point my flashlight to the stars
in hopes you can see it wherever you are. (see it?)
Stiff white collar,
whisky tea,
radio towers
and sawdust on the floor.
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8. |
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9. |
Beartrap
02:25
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10. |
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11. |
Time Travel
03:30
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12. |
Stone Garden
04:23
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13. |
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Ian Miles Spokane
Ian Miles is an independent singer-songwriter based out of Spokane, WA.
His Music has been described and "a
little cool and a little weird – in a good way" and "very story-telling".
Sometimes mellow and bittersweet; a songbird at your window sill and at other times a thunderous full-throated roar of emotive stomping and hollering like a wild preacher of the end-times!
... more
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