Get all 16 Jonathan Atkins releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of XIV II, Flybird, Wicker Forest, Chances EP (From the Short Film), On Lake Memphremagog, Jericho, Voices & Vices Volume IV, Pour Quand Vous Êtes À La Maison, and 8 more.
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Allow me to reach into your mind at dusk time
And shoo away that horrid disastrous monstrosity
That you calmly invited in through your sighing tired eyes.
I see bags weighing you down,
and sound,
Hoping to creep slowly, getting loud.
Reaching peak decimal,
And the mess of it all,
Is so bitterly, condescendingly different than you remember.
And don’t bother,
Searching far and wide for the dead centre,
of December.
Because those memories.
I’m sorry. I brought it up again.
I’m trained
With this opinion on reality,
you see.
I wasn’t hurt as badly as I could’ve been.
I was not upset after I should have died.
And each day I’m blessed with a little glimpse of purpose.
And each day it’s torn with a backhand of reality.
And each day I look back on the days when death had its handle on me,
And I didn’t escape because of my own wants and needs,
But because, magically, something fought that tiny, lifeless shadow,
That we know today as “death”.
And maybe I’m just not afraid of the shadow.
Maybe I’m just blessing the ones around me with,
Six more weeks of this glorious winter.
Or maybe I’m winter to the touch.
And this is an iced reflection of me, not you in the slightest.
I calmly inhaled everything in through every drag,
And every shot, and through every incident and accident.
These are bags of winters snow weighing down my sighing eyes.
Alright, by now you’re wondering where I’m going,
Sewing together the line between passion and giving up,
Because I feel a shadow,
But I’m not forced into my hole,
And I don’t retract to the flattery,
And maybe it’s because you see my exposed soul,
Or you don’t mind six more weeks of winter.
But there is something about how,
You looked at me just now.
Maybe that was the small glimpse of purpose,
I needed to rehabilitate inner churches.
And maybe I just needed a little extra help with these heavy bags.
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2. |
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I know a thing about beauty.
It’s the reason I first laid eyes on you.
I had not known a single detail about your soul,
Or that the beauty had dug itself from the outside, through.
I know a thing about beauty,
And maybe the Japanese did it best,
By lacing broken objects with a resin of gold,
Together we can accomplish the same within our chests.
I know a thing about beauty,
It’s that it doesn’t stand strong for eternity.
It grows frail and fragile, yes,
Beauty is breakable in sincerity.
The truth about your beauty is,
There is a strong guard holding still to your mind,
To your soul, and to your person.
A still beauty that will hold fast for all of time.
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3. |
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I don't hear birds calling.
Not right now, you see, baby.
The dead of winter chased them all away.
I'm afraid my winter will do just the same.
For you, my love, hold dear,
All my insecurities,
And pry open doors I leave locked,
You make me feel alive.
Every time I look at her I feel different.
Tying knots in my stomach and knots on ties,
I'm settling for the feeling of butterflies in my gut,
New memories, smile lines, collar bones, and pretty eyes.
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4. |
Dangerously Day Dreaming
03:40
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Give me something to drown the pain,
'Cause my crazy ex took my knife away.
And maybe she ain't so crazy,
If she was sane enough to see things that pained me,
Like loneliness and being forced alone.
From emptiness and shattered bones
portrayed violently in an empty home.
It's cliche and overheard, but it's only cliche and over heard because it's a fact that many of us experience and hold dear
because we don't have anything else to hold near.
And I'll slip up a thousand times,
Or slip down whatever you call it for the rhymes
Or I'll slip and on my way down
Find new things that seem to help me drown.
Like cigarettes and filling my chest,
With finest weed, and simply
Just finding balance between
The heavy pains and pressures and life and pleasures and dreams.
I day dream. I day dream. I always day dream.
And it spoils all the fun of my proper dreams.
It keeps me awake at night with all the night mares.
But it gives me hope and so I keep day dreaming dangerously.
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5. |
For Arizona
03:59
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6. |
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Oh, the summer time is coming,
And the trees are blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
Will you go, lassie, go?
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather,
Will you go, lassie, go?
I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain,
And all around the bower,
I'll pile flowers from the mountain.
Will you go, lassie, go?
If my true love, she won't have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
Will you go, lassie, go?
Oh, the summertime is coming
And the trees are blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
Will you go, lassie, go?
I love when it gets late and you tell me,
You need to get me home,
but that we will stop for coffee first
because that means I get extra hours with you alone.
and nothing makes me happier than that.
My dear Zorro.
You've got a soul that burns empires,
Loudly proclaiming everything it needs and wants,
And it doesn't scare me,
It draws me in wraps me up in warmth,
And strokes my hair.
I like reading the drunk texts I sent you.
Your responses are so human.
You don't dismiss it or support it.
You don't toss me more problems,
or give me shit.
Like mistakes happen.
I've got my problems and I'm sorry.
It's wrapped up in a long story.
Your long red hair could be mistaken for fire,
But it reminds me of those ginger dogs, dear Zorro.
You've got a soul that burns empires,
Loudly proclaiming everything it needs and wants
And it doesn't scare me,
It draws me in wraps me up in warmth,
And strokes my hair.
If my true love, she won't have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
Will you go, lassie, go?
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Jonathan Atkins Mississauga, Ontario
"A singer-songwriter with a devastating ear for harmonies and a delicate touch with lyrics that slide perfectly into a
horrid winter. There's a definite Celtic touch, but far sweeter than something like Mumford & Sons." - Andrew Fifield (Metro News)
More music at discofox.bandcamp.com
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