Centuries down the line
We've been aching all this time
We've been talking to each other
We've been talking in the night
Told my sister watch yourself
Move with courage and with stealth
You own the world, you own the sky
This is your time
The walls are paved with all this sin
When a man tells you who he is, believe him
The burnt books, deleted songs
The back drawer bedsheets washed once
The way we wear the shoes to run
The shelves all stocked up to the back
With jars of old panic attacks
I'm walking corridors of artefacts
Oh, the night is long at the museum
And everything is wrong at the museum
The spoils of tiny wars
Won't someone find the doors
We were never yours
The record books were missing teeth
Hard, of course, to set the scene
For if something's to be history
It must first be believed
And your apologies like stones
Who can throw the furthest one
The burnt books, deleted songs
The back drawer bedsheets washed once
The lessons that you taught your sons
The shelves all stocked up to the back
With jars of old panic attacks
I'm walking corridors of artefacts
Oh, the night is long at the museum
And everything is wrong at the museum
The spoils of tiny wars
Won't someone find the doors
We were never yours
Brother, let me shed some light
We've made a list alright
We've been talking to each other
We've been talking in the night
See, at the rising of the sun
You'd do well to turn and run
We regrettably inform you that our stories are not yours
We don't do tours here any more
The place is shut, the windows black
And we're not ever going back
We're lighting bonfires with the artefacts
It's the hope. Through the sadness and anger at the current state of the world, Grace seems to sing hope and belief that people can, and want to, do better, and build something where we all fit. voxdumnonia
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024