Thistle the Maker

by Lindsay Clark

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1.
03:59
2.
03:29
3.
4.
02:50
5.
03:28
6.
05:13
7.
04:39
8.
04:59
9.
02:35
10.
01:55
11.
05:09
12.
04:26

about

Recorded in the fall and winter of 2008 in Chester, CT at Dirt Floor Studios, mixed by Eric Lichter @ Dirt Floor... letterpress printing and design by Greta Merrick.

credits

released April 25, 2009

Lindsay Clark; guitar, banjo, vocals. Greg Beson; drums on track 5. Regina Peterson, Kit Wallach, Kate Lee, Jon Hansard; background vox. Wendy Mittelstadt; violin on tracks 7, 8, 11.

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Lindsay Clark Portland, Oregon

Lindsay Clark is a lover of nature and sound who grew up in the Sierra Nevada mountains.

contact / help

Contact Lindsay Clark

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Track Name: Thistles
Thistles

Thistles, thistles throw
open like roses!
Blue and yellow flow'rs
sprawl on your cheekbones
Stars bleed from the skys
catch flight and roll 'way
down the road...

Thistles, thistles grow
'round me like posies!
You caught me going down
to the water, to have a drink
no, I can't kiss you straight
when I been dusted
and lonesome

Thistles, thistles move
'round the wind's neck
I try to stay in bed,
stand still and speak low
You make, make me jump
through fires and fences
made of lead

I want, want to go
down where the wind blows
Down there, take me slow
wrap me in milllstones,
furrows and lands,
dont let me go!
Track Name: Blackbirds
Blackbirds

Blackberries in sun,
emerald eyes of mine
They're covered in dust,
the Lord'll wash 'em out

Warm berries in pails
lay battered, bruised on the porch
my mama's been crying,
her tear drops echo for miles.

Blackbirds are crowing o'er my head, I feel fine
Blackbirds are circling o'er my friends, I feel fine

Feathers have been
strewn, all over the dirt
Red-tailed and blue
No wings to carry me home,
Or away, away....

Blackbirds are crowing o'er my head, I feel fine
Blackbirds are circling o'er my friends, I feel fine

When my mama is gone,
sparrows lift from the ground
and emerald bays we'll find, gone
angel white as my skin.

and I've given up crying
my back is facing the sun
So give, give, gimme some peace,
I fold my lips to pray.

Blackbirds are crowing o'er my head, I feel fine
Blackbirds are circling o'er my friends, I feel fine