Biografía:
O conjunto indie folk Brown Bird foi inicialmente formado como um veículo para o vocalista principal e compositor David Lamb. Em 2003, tendo vivido brevemente em Seattle, David se mudou para o leste de Portland, Maine, onde ele começou a trabalhar em um punhado de melodias folk que se compararam favoravelmente com o trabalho sobressalente e rude de artistas como Bonnie "Prince" Billy e Iron and Wine. Os amigos de David, Jerusha e Jeremy Robinson
Read more on Last.fm
Otras canciones:
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
[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
Bruce Springstee (...)
Bruce Wiegner
Bruddah Waltah
Brunettes Shoot (...)
Bruno Arias