Somewhere the pine is crushed
Beneath the powdered snow,
The winter white and blue
In twilight's fading glow.
The ice melts in the stream
That winds beside the road
And leads into the valley
Where my footsteps cannot go.
For long are the miles
That scatter my dreams,
And the bridge is old and worn
Where I had crossed the stream,
And in the waters there
The frosted flowers teem
And drift like stars that fell
Just outside of my reach.
Somewhere in silver branches
Floats the winter wind.
Somewhere the fires are warm
And gathered close with friends
And I am crying
For the home I'll never know,
And for the evening's light,
And for the falling snow.
For long are the miles
That scatter my dreams
And the bridge is broken
Where I used to cross the stream
And in the waters there
The frosted flowers teem
And drift like stars that fell
Just outside of my reach.
Somewhere the warbler calls me
From the frozen wood,
Somewhere that I would run
To answer if I could
But I am crying
For a place I'll only know
In dreams and memories
Of the gently falling snow.
I could listen to Lauren sing forever. Her writing is vivid and sensitive, sweetly and painfully human--never apologizing for sharp corners and rough edges. The beauty of her spirit shines through. Summer Russell
It's funny, I wouldn't say Cathy is a favorite artist, but I do have a lot of her stuff. Even though she sings about fantasy & esoteric things, I feel it. I think everyone can relate. TimTTT
Singer-songwriter Henry Parker puts his own spin on the classic sounds of '60s and '70s British folk on this wilderness-inspired new LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 9, 2021