Listen listen
Stories told
People singing
Language old
Though you don’t know
What it means literally
You hear it seems
From far away
But in this place
With your liking
You hold it’s trace
You wonder meaning
As you sit
And the story’s
Watching, watching you
Walk some more
Reaching for the door
Walking your thoughts up from the track
Wishing walk
If the land could talk
See what you’d bring back
Walking seeming always half way ‘long
Piecing together places gone
Of broken culture, only touching on the surface
In another kind of in-between of red rock home
You piece together as you can,
Bringing meaning to where you stand
Looking, looking, for a telling a face
Out of rock emerging
Watching, watching you
Walk some more
Reaching for the door
Walking your thoughts up from the track
Seek to see
Signs of the unseen
You cup your hand around your call
You call your own, it echoes on
Watching I
Walk some more
Reaching for the door
Walking your thoughts up from the track
Seek to see
Signs of the unseen
See if you find a way home
Wishing walk, if the land could talk
You cup your hand around your call
You call your own, it echoes on
You cup your hand around your call
You call your own it calls you on
Listen, listen, for a people’s song
Echo ages long
Hearing you
Looking, looking, for a telling face
Out of rock emerging
Watching, watching you
because of her voice, her lyrics, her production, her playing, her influences, her connection to sound, to people important to her, to her genius.. Peter Hunt
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