In her eye a solar flare
And the planet went cold
My knees nearly froze
I could feel the fire enveloping
This icy atmosphere
Place your hand and feel the heat
Through the wall
Through the wall
I don't know her name
But neither does she
Guess we don't make much
Out of memory
In her eye a half moon green
Coloring all that I can see
I could walk blind
And still see the glow
In the old garden
Faces drawn here
With only my shame shedding away
In the breeze
In the breeze
Alec Bowman perfectly captures the dark soil under the pastoral world of British folk with this collection of melancholy originals. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2020