I found a feather of a bird that's spying at my door.
I recognize the colors. Might've seen them wings before.
So even though the light between us comes towards the end,
still, when the tower crumbles, I will be your only friend.
But if you leave, I will turn to stone.
I will wait through the night, when you're gone.
An origami bird came knocking on my window pane.
The sound had always driven lonely-hearted men insane.
But if your heart is made of rocks and sticks and spit and mud,
the sound will soak right in it and dissolve into your blood.
But if you leave, I will turn to dust.
I will wait thought the winter, if I must.
If you leave, I will turn to dew.
Please, remember to turn off the light, if you do.
When you do.
And if the sky becomes a bore and currents let you down,
come back to take your kingdom over and reclaim your crown.
And if along the way your wings get melted by the sun,
I'll be there to catch you falling, I'll be there to help you run.
But if you leave, I will turn to smoke.
I remember every promise that I broke.
If you leave, I will turn to dew.
Please, remember to turn off the light, if you do.
When you do.
Written as she was coping with an auto-immune disease, the new EP from Rachel Angel offers hushed, silvery ’50s-style Americana. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 23, 2020
Tightly wound post-punk with splashes of new wave; heavy on twangy riffs, phased-out melodies, and understated vocals. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 2, 2023