Biography:
Brown Bird was a folk band which formed in 2003 in Seattle, Washington, United States, but was based in Warren, Rhode Island for much of its existence. The band's lineup changed often, revolving around founder David Lamb (vocals, guitar, multiple instruments). By 2010, the band consisted only of Lamb and MorganEve Swain (fiddle, bass, vocals), who were married in 2013. Lamb died on April 5, 2014 of complications from leukemia.
Pulling from the influences of the blues
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Other songs:
Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
(Title:THE MESSENGER)
[Em]There are fleeting fits of reason between the [Am]sleeping and the drinks
Where a [B7]million different sensory [Em]experiences blink
[Em]And it’s there within the momentary [Am]darkness you can breathe
[Cmaj7]Be a form without [B7]reflection or [Em]debris
[Em]There are bloody bouts of tenderness [Am]against the bonds of fear
Facing [B7]combat everlasting, vultures [Em]circle ever near
[Em]Now they’re placing bets deciding who will [Am]be the first to feast
[Cmaj7]We can flood the battle[B7]field with something [Em]weak
[Am]Barrel chested bankers buying [Em]billboards by the score
[Am]Placing all their eggs in baskets [B7]made of future funeral wars
[Em]Now their children fight in microcosmic [Am]mirrors of their game
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
[Em]There are centuries of seasons turning [Am]white to green to brown
Cycling [B7]through each sort of sequence, turning [Em]temperaments around
[Em]These incessant spinning seasons making [Am]dizzy all our days
[Cmaj7]We’ll succumb to something [B7]stranger [Em]anyway
[Cmaj7]Some disaster in a [B7]story ending brand new [Em]day
[Am]Barrel chested bankers buying [Em]billboards by the score
[Am]Placing all their eggs in baskets [B7]made of future funeral wars
[Em]Now their children fight in microcosmic [Am]mirrors of their game
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
[Em]There are fleeting fits of reason between the [Am]sleeping and the drinks
Where a [B7]million different sensory [Em]experiences blink
[Em]And it’s there within the momentary [Am]darkness you can breathe
[Cmaj7]Be a form without [B7]reflection or [Em]debris
[Em]There are bloody bouts of tenderness [Am]against the bonds of fear
Facing [B7]combat everlasting, vultures [Em]circle ever near
[Em]Now they’re placing bets deciding who will [Am]be the first to feast
[Cmaj7]We can flood the battle[B7]field with something [Em]weak
[Am]Barrel chested bankers buying [Em]billboards by the score
[Am]Placing all their eggs in baskets [B7]made of future funeral wars
[Em]Now their children fight in microcosmic [Am]mirrors of their game
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
[Em]There are centuries of seasons turning [Am]white to green to brown
Cycling [B7]through each sort of sequence, turning [Em]temperaments around
[Em]These incessant spinning seasons making [Am]dizzy all our days
[Cmaj7]We’ll succumb to something [B7]stranger [Em]anyway
[Cmaj7]Some disaster in a [B7]story ending brand new [Em]day
[Am]Barrel chested bankers buying [Em]billboards by the score
[Am]Placing all their eggs in baskets [B7]made of future funeral wars
[Em]Now their children fight in microcosmic [Am]mirrors of their game
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
[Cmaj7]And the messenger will [B7]always be to [Em]blame
Bruce Springstee (...)
Bruce Wiegner
Bruddah Waltah
Brunettes Shoot (...)
Bruno Arias