Other Emma Caiman
Last time I heard the trees call...

Last time I heard the trees call..

Last time I heard the trees call, I was lying in the desert
Sun was ripping out my eyeballs, sand the cushion for my head,
Breathing in and breathing out, the shadows on the wall,
must have slipped there from the ceiling,
There’s a black crow on a dead tree, it’s a harsh a bitter call.

Now they’re waggling their little leaves,
the fingers spread, the singing trees
I crawl to them on broken knees,
it’s just mirage, a gentle breeze…

The last time I heard the crow call, I was sweating in a junkyard
full of broken dreams and bottles that had splintered on the ground,
I have no recollection of the time that went before,
A kaleidoscope, a melody cascading to the floor,
In a rivulet of pity, in a parody of dream, it’s a broken down occasion
if you can’t tell where you’ve been

Then you open up the television, tuck it all away
It is simply not appropriate to carry on this way,
If they happen to annoy you, trees can simply be replaced,
We have plastic ones that play a tune, you hug them and they smile a little,
Talk to them and they will hum a cheerful little tune a little tune..

In the rainbow coloured lorikeet, the jungle of my brain
the exploding of the forest – it’s a deep primeval pain,
Shifting sands, the trees are singing deep, the thrumming of their voices,
It’s an overwhelming drowning, it’s an overwhelming song…

Sung played and mixed up by Emma... including an assortment of 'found sounds'...