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lyrics

High on a mountain, empty as a ghost town in the rain
See the wisdom of the elders, slowly washed away
Carved in the branches of the trees, lies the legend of the mountains
Long ago she told me

Sit and start cross the poppy fields
At the sky which is slowly turning gray
Do beware of the crops that we yield
Because they might just as soon go away

Fortune teller in a black silk dress
Stays in the township for the night
Children hoping for her best
Wishes before she takes flight

Where have all the people gone to now
Stolen all the sailboats, left for other towns
Waved goodbye, to the mountains in a shroud
Of fog that surrounds us, with a burden weighing down

Sit and stare cross the meadows
At the tall grass longing for the wind
Flowing like the crest of a wave
Taking us there and back again

Long lost one of the mountain town
Walks through the garden in the rain
Wanders through the meadow dust
Telling stories of the sailors, set to sea long ago, stories that we may never know

credits

from Beyond The Evening Sun, released June 16, 2022
Paul Davis: Percussion
Jazmarae Beebe: Vocals
Dune Butler: Upright Bass/Vocals
Charles Wicklander: Guitar/Keys/Vocals

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about

Charles Wicklander Seattle, Washington

From Seattle Washington, multi-instrumentalist Charles Wicklander strives to combine psychedelic soundscapes with the wonders of the natural world around us.

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