Lyrics:

What You Gave Away
The Pacific Northwest coast holds a place I’d longed to see. An unmarked stretch of beach, tied to your memory. I made my way there, breathed that air and walked on those dunes. I sank my feet in the sand, holding your daughter’s hand. There’s a debt, sir, unanswered. I can’t repay what you gave away. They say the fire goes out on a star long before we know of the light that shines down on us below. I went to that beach, footprints trailing behind, to be washed out by the tide or for someone to find.

Under Thunder and Gale
Please let the rain in. Open all the windows wide. Let the wind blow that furious thing inside to spring forth some life. I feel it pulsing: a buried network of roots that will break the floor with fresh green shoots to climb up over me and through the roof. Please let the sails down, let the canvas fall slack and loose. Throw the oars overboard, for they’re no use. We’ll let the tides take us where they choose. We’ll just keep drifting, hoping the waves don’t pull us down. And if by chance we find that we’ve been run aground, we’ll start a new life for ourselves where we’ve been found.

Drowsy Haze
You raced on up ahead as your silhouette blocked out the sun. I gave chase, though drowsy haze of those summer days was deep in my lungs.

Fever Dream
Dry brush waits for a spark, to be transformed into flames bright and true that would burn all night through. To be reborn is all that it wants, but as days stretch, the thought starts to haunt that no spark will fly. Were you left here for dust, rust, and wind, not knowing just what kind of trouble you’re in? While something still stirs and yearns, you can still feel the burn. You’ve lost how days brought you here, to stand stranded again. Speaking in tongues, with no breath in your lungs, and calling out. But the names all get caught, just as you once knew but now forgot what you’ve been looking for. Was it to or from someone that all this time you’ve been on the run? Or once again, has your memory been wrong, and you’ve been alone all along?

Buried Below
Packed everything you had into the car. Rolled the whole thing into the lake. Now there’s nothing left to tie you to this place except a heavy, sinking ache. The water’s surface settled down again, with one more secret buried below. That’s one more life you’ve lived and left behind, but it gets no easier to let go. But running is the one thing that you’ve always known just how to do, because the trouble up ahead might not be as bad as what’s waiting here for you. But you’re so tired. You’ve grown so tired.

Witness
Streetlights spark to life as we pass by, caught in panes of warehouse windows and reflected in your eyes. Lying on your lawn on our sides. We’ll stay outside. All our friends are all alright and all around. The grass and dust and summer dusk is just settling down. There’s nowhere that we would rather be. As day wanes, our shadows stretch below. It’s perfect where we are, as the sun hangs low. When night falls, there’s an electricity in the air on your bare arms that sings of what could be. The city glimmers underneath the fading light. What joy to be a witness, to be alive and with this night. We breathe in ghosts of loves, waiting above to be once again dreamt of.

Those Distant Lights
If you say yes, we could leave, we could go. We’d be gone. We could get there in time to see the dawn. Come on. I don’t need to sleep. I’ll keep driving all night long. I know there’s something to see. I hear it calling to me every night now, with an anxious sound that makes my blood pound. As we drive down, what were names on a map will gather all around, waiting to be found. If you say yes, we could leave, we could go. We won’t know what awaits us in those distant lights unless you say yes, so say yes, because now our only fear should be what happens if we just stay here. So pick the road that we’ll take. I’ve got this deep steady ache running through me. I want to breathe the air outside of this town. As we drive down, what were names on a map will gather all around, waiting to be found.

Lucky
Parked in your car, you’re safe, you’re saved. And though your hands shake and your lungs ache and the belt chafes, somehow you’re still safe. Four feet up, the road just stops at a forty-foot drop, where your high beams catch the last seam before the air sinks over the black brink. You must have dozed. You came so close with your eyes closed. But somehow, you’re alive now, and wide awake. Your foot’s still on the brake.

Forests Burned
The thin slip of moon through the shade was lost on sleeping eyes seeing smoke rise up through the birch and pine, where a sinking red sun found us, as all around us the fires surround us

Untied
There’s nothing to hold us down. We’ll cut the strings. We’ll kiss the ground goodbye. We’ll catch up a western breeze that eddies us up past the trees to sky. Let the line slip free. The ballast is your memory. Let it drop to the ground. We’ll always be around. Mother to her baby said we’re never lost. We’re never dead. We fly. Our thoughts get spun like silken threads, cast down below like sighs. I told you baby, once; I said, we never die, we simply get untied.