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!
[Intro]
Am
[Verse]
G
I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Am
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
G
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Am
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
[Chorus]
G
But they said, hey oh dig another well
Am
The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell
G
Oh, oh rip the curbing all away
Am
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre
[Bridge]
Am
I'd call on my lord but he can't help me now
F
I'd fall on my sword if I only knew how to believe there's nothing above
Only absence of breath, of hatred and love
Am
But it was born into me and if I can't burn it out
I'll forge all my swords into blades of a plow
F Am
And toil all my days in those fields of fire
G Am
And I will welcome those flames in a funeral pyre
[Instrumental]
Am F Am G Am
[Verse]
Am G
I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Am
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
G
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Am
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
[Chorus]
G
But they said, hey oh dig another well
Am
The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell
G
Oh, oh rip the curbing all away
Am
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre
[Outro]
Am Am F G
Am Am F G
Am F
We file down our fangs on the bones of our foes
G Am
And curse their names with blood swollen tongues
F
We file down our hearts on the kindness of friends
G Am
Pick them up and cut them down again
Am Am F G
Am
[Verse]
G
I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Am
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
G
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Am
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
[Chorus]
G
But they said, hey oh dig another well
Am
The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell
G
Oh, oh rip the curbing all away
Am
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre
[Bridge]
Am
I'd call on my lord but he can't help me now
F
I'd fall on my sword if I only knew how to believe there's nothing above
Only absence of breath, of hatred and love
Am
But it was born into me and if I can't burn it out
I'll forge all my swords into blades of a plow
F Am
And toil all my days in those fields of fire
G Am
And I will welcome those flames in a funeral pyre
[Instrumental]
Am F Am G Am
[Verse]
Am G
I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Am
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
G
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Am
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
[Chorus]
G
But they said, hey oh dig another well
Am
The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell
G
Oh, oh rip the curbing all away
Am
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre
[Outro]
Am Am F G
Am Am F G
Am F
We file down our fangs on the bones of our foes
G Am
And curse their names with blood swollen tongues
F
We file down our hearts on the kindness of friends
G Am
Pick them up and cut them down again
Am Am F G
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