What we built before kept safely away from the prying eyes that turned to stone that seek the lines of weakness in your soul.
And it's all around, I can hear them calling me out.
But I'll close my eyes until the sun goes down.
And I had got it so wrong, still searching for a better way to be the man that I was meant to be.
Oh to not be lost, to give and not count the cost.
I'll close my eyes until the sun goes down.
When satellites are sleeping, see how our world can turn, unconnected from the things we see but don't discern.
I know there's hope in the unknown and not what could have been. Now I find strength in words that made no sense before, like a new stone turned.
Awoke to a song from years ago with ears raised, the whole world had changed beneath our feet as we wished it away.
We wished it away...
I know there's hope in the unknown and not what could have been. Now I find strength in words that made no sense before,
Like shadows of our future selves we set our hearts, to find the call.
In a flash of life a new horizon breaks and darkness falls from sight.
What we built before the storm, never kept us safe at all, stop running from the light that will guide us (home)
Yesterday has come and gone, and we were never safe at all, stop running from the light that will guide us (home)
Back the way I came so freely, it's time to sing the song that's in me and wash it all away.
What we built before kept safely away from the prying eyes that turned to stone that seek the lines of weakness in your soul.
And it's all around, I can hear them calling me out.
But I'll close my eyes until the sun goes down.
For those who understand just what it takes to fail,
For those who understand just what it takes to fail.
Find what's really ours, together and never alone.
And truth will not be found in blood and stone, but heart and soul.
credits
from Fear the Distance,
released November 2, 2012
Jay Hawkins (Vocals, Guitar), Rick Loynes (Vocals, Bass), Rich Ellis (Guitar), Tim Paling (Drums). Recorded by Kevin Peters at Anemic Studios.
Three renditions of “Snowflakes in July” explore all aspects of the song’s stunning beauty, including a mind-blowing 17-minute live version. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 15, 2020
A melancholic haze that, if you let it in, will grab your ears, hold you tight, and won't relent, not until you've broken. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 28, 2014