“Tear your tree house down,” they said.
“Tear it down at once;
give it up;
come down, down, down.”
“Tear your tree house down,” they said.
“Tear your platform down.
Paint the town red;
live it up;
come down.”
Jesus wept;
my Lord;
sweet Jesus of Nazareth;
Heavens to Betsy;
Heaven help us;
Christ Almighty;
Christ alive.
Old acquaintances, Death & I
holding on
to the face of God in a gale.
Can you count and read between my ‘laugh lines’?
I’m moving out, moving on,
moving mountains tonight.
My body clock struck thirteen;
past lives tucked themselves inside
five stout boxes;
sundry items were dismantled;
my ghost walked through walls;
and last of all, I’m folded into
five stout boxes,
five stout boxes.
“Tear your tree house down,” they said.
“Tear your airstrip down.”
I’m in a fix.
I’m mixed-up—upping sticks.
Send a flying saucer down;
flood this town with light.
My head’s in a spin,
whirling round and round,
round and round, round and round.
Jesus wept;
my Lord;
sweet Jesus of Nazareth;
Heavens to Murgatroyd;
Heaven help us;
Christ Almighty;
Christ alive.
Old acquaintances, Death & I
holding on
to the face of God in a gale.
Can you count and read between my ‘laugh lines’?
I’m moving out, moving on,
moving mountains tonight,
mountains tonight.
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024
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