Search results for 'red birch'

I will walk the shores of your black waters 

I will dive under your silver mirrors

Swim into your deep sea

Where something grows from below 

And in the dead of night

I will watch your black beauty

Turn into all shades of brown and grey 

Like a white swan

I will swim into your dawn 

Like a white swan
I will swim into your dawn 

Silken birch

Red rise
Over ripples

In a frozen disguise

You're dressed to the nines
Silken birch
Red rise

Over ripples
In a frozen disguise

You're dressed to the nines 


Like a white swan

I will swim into your dawn 

I will fill my lungs with your cold embrace 

I will wrap my heart in a golden glace

I will sweep our fallen leaves

Into my quiet keep 

And in the dead of night

I will watch your grey decay 

Turn into all shades of fire 

Like a white swan
I will swim into your dawn 

Like a white swan

I will swim into your dawn 

Silken birch

Red rise

Over ripples

In a frozen disguise
You're dressed to the nines 

Silken birch

Red rise
Over ripples

In a frozen disguise
You're dressed to the nines 



Like a white swan

I will swim into your dawn

This is called talkin' John Birch Blues
And there ain't nothing wrong with this song

Well, I was feelin' sad and kinda blue
I didn't know what I was gonna do
The communists was a-comin' around
They was in the air
They was on the ground
They was all over

So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret membership card
I went back home to the yard
Started looking on the sidewalk
Under the hedges

Well, I got up in the mornin' I looked under my bed
I was lookin' every places for them gol-darned Reds
Looked behind the sink, and under the floor
Looked in the glove compartment of my car
Couldn't find any

Look behind the cloths, behind the chair
Lookin' for them Reds everywhere
I looked way up my chimney hole
Even looked deep inside my toilet bowl
They got away

I heard some footsteps by the front porch door
I grabbed my shotgun from the floor
Snuck around the house with a huff and a hiss
"Saying hands up you communist"
It was the mail man, he punched me out

Well, I was sittin' home an' started to sweat
I figured they was in my T.V. set
I peeked behind the picture frame
Got a shock from my feet, right up in the brain
Them reds did it
Hooting in the television

Well, I quit my job, so I could work alone
Got a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes
Followed some clues from my detective bag
And discovered red stripes on the American flag
Betty Ross

Now Eisenhower, he's a Russian spy
Lincoln, and Jefferson and then Roosevelt guy
To my knowledge, there's just one man
That's really and truly an American
That's George Lincoln Rockwell
I know for a fact he hates Commies
'Cause he picketed the movie Exodus

Well, I finally started thinkin' straight
When I run outta things to investigate
I couldn't imagine nothin' else
So now I'm home investigatin' myself
Hope I don't find out too much, good God

Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues [Live]

Bob Dylan

Long Time Gone

2018

This is called talkin' John Birch Blues
And there ain't nothing wrong with this song

Well, I was feelin' sad and kinda blue
I didn't know what I was gonna do
The communists was a-comin' around
They was in the air
They was on the ground
They was all over

So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret membership card
I went back home to the yard
Started looking on the sidewalk
Under the hedges

Well, I got up in the mornin' I looked under my bed
I was lookin' every places for them gol-darned Reds
Looked behind the sink, and under the floor
Looked in the glove compartment of my car
Couldn't find any

Look behind the cloths, behind the chair
Lookin' for them Reds everywhere
I looked way up my chimney hole
Even looked deep inside my toilet bowl
They got away

I heard some footsteps by the front porch door
I grabbed my shotgun from the floor
Snuck around the house with a huff and a hiss
"Saying hands up you communist"
It was the mail man, he punched me out

Well, I was sittin' home an' started to sweat
I figured they was in my T.V. set
I peeked behind the picture frame
Got a shock from my feet, right up in the brain
Them reds did it
Hooting in the television

Well, I quit my job, so I could work alone
Got a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes
Followed some clues from my detective bag
And discovered red stripes on the American flag
Betty Ross

Now Eisenhower, he's a Russian spy
Lincoln, and Jefferson and then Roosevelt guy
To my knowledge, there's just one man
That's really and truly an American
That's George Lincoln Rockwell
I know for a fact he hates Commies
'Cause he picketed the movie Exodus

Well, I finally started thinkin' straight
When I run outta things to investigate
I couldn't imagine nothin' else
So now I'm home investigatin' myself
Hope I don't find out too much, good God

The John Birch Society

Chad Mitchell Trio

Live

2014

Well you've heard about the agents that we've already named
Well MPA has agents that are flauntedly unashamed
We're after Rosie Clooney, we've gotten Pinkie Lee
And the day we get Red Skelton won't that be a victory
Oh we're the John Birch Society, the John Birch Society
Norman Vincent Peale may think he's kidding us along
But the John Birch Society knows he spilled the beans
He keeps on preaching brotherhood, but we know what he means
We'll teach you how to spot 'em in the cities or the sticks
For even Jasper Junction is just full of Bolsheviks
The CIA's subversive and so's the FCC
There's no one left but thee and we, and we're not sure of thee
Oh, we're the John Birch Society, the John Birch Society
Here to save our country from a communistic plot
Join the John Birch Society holding off the Reds
We'll use our hand and hearts and if we must we'll use our heads
Do you want Justice Warren for your Commissar?

The maritime archaic peoples 
No longer living 
Extinct as a culture 

They left their legacy behind 
In the ground 
Where their bones are found 

Forever remembered 
As the children of the sea 
Their birch tree heritage 

Red ochre 
Painted faces 
Ancient spirits 
A deceased identity 

The mountains bear scars 
The earth bears skulls 
Arrowheads with dried blood 
In a wigwam on the shore 

Honored now 
In name only 
Maritime archaic 
Echoes through eternity 

Their legacy in birch 
The trays of family traditions 
Left to petrify in cold dirt

I’ve been buried 6 foot underground
Teeth all yellow cause I chewed my way out
Mud in my toes from stomping you down
My fingernails bloody from digging about
Backs all jacked from the casket I found
And my throats burned out from breathing drought
That’s why I spit fire when I open my mouth
Cause I walked through hell without making a sound
I got this weight
That cannot seem to wait
Until it grips and holds on
It just slips and it cracks the whip
Just to liberate the flip
I'd like to think I gave the slip
To any old body looking at me
Trying to cut and decapitate me
Present my head on a sliver platter
But I ain’t the Baptist I am the batter
Coming at you with a jawbone I ripped off an ass, whole
‘Cause you know industry won’t condone
How these hands are home grown
Swinging to make a thousand head stones
One skull, two skull, red skull, your skull
Be careful if you try to strike my skull, indulge
Turning the other cheek is an insult
Get the idea, this ain’t an impulse
Light bulb
I’m about to divulge
How tough love cracks thick skin
As a result, I’ll cut the seed from hull
Work without a epidural
Scalpels not dull from 7 whole days of labor
Praise goes up
For fingers trained in battle, hands made for war
That leads to burned earth
Cause a snake in the orchard is not legit
I am a bass turd in holy water
On the border always moving forward
Drawing closer to the torture
I drop these mortars
Woke up the devil
Looked in the mirror to see that I am better
I need a ghost that doesn’t haunt the past
Diagnosed and engrossed
Out the boat can’t touch the coast
Not to boast but this all got wrote
‘Cause 2 hands are my host
10 digits are how I keep my circle
Less is more when your life’s a journal
One more hates when the roosters verbal
And one more kills over a bag of silver
Time is up for what been covert
I pulled it out, overt, shoulder holstered
Weight of the world being sung like a shot gun
12 gauge, 2 more than holes that I make
Get the picture, see it clearer
Review mirror don’t hang in my cab
No ones got my back as I walk with giants
Plenty have been the fallen that wished to try it
It makes no sense for me to be the one to flee
Like a damn given on the eve of the
Reckoning that I was able willingly
Coming to place Just to smash a cane
Knowing I am defined just by my name
You know I didn’t even have to drop a hook
Fishing for fans ain’t part of the look
Rather multiply without a chorus
Cause hallelujahs are lost in the forest
Only thing left is the message I can impart
Been to quick too start
Flip chart
I’m still out smart
Rip apart exposed hearts
Watch it fade black as you restart
Couldn’t be the one to take you up to church
Burn the industry with an unlit torch
They’re nailed to a cross made out of red birch
While in cross hairs that makes a body lurch

I never thought I'd hold the hand of a man who was lost in thought, but I always seem to breathe upon the heads of the John Birch Reds...Mauritia Mayer!

I don't want that, I'm a different breed
I die tomorrow
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see you
You whisper to me that you find it hard to trust, you give everything
I tell you don't you see in our future memories it's all yellow
Put all your weight on me
We're consumed with lust it's hard to breathe
Our minds take the lead, you will see underneath
I bleed yellow
I bleed yellow
I bleed yellow
I bleed
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see you
This night can't compete with the others
Flight or just freeze
Rather red kite, silver birch trees
White lies while I plead
Write lines while I bleed
I speak yellow
I speak yellow
I speak yellow
I speak
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see yellow
I see you

There is a brisk chill in the air
Out into the backwoods we go
Chainsaws and pulp hooks in hand
To gather wood before the coming of the snow

Felling down trees in the old trails
Wood chips, sawdust and gasoline
Evergreen needles and birch bark
Coat my red flannel and old jeans

Tinder insurgents, this is the way of the lumberjack
Tinder insurgents, woodsmen out on the attack

Fuel for the harshing winter
Getting fucked up out in nature
Blasting Darkthrone out of the speakers
Forest metaller is my stature

Tinder insurgents, this is the way of the lumberjack
Tinder insurgents, woodsmen out on the attack

Tinder insurgents, Vikings hiking the Vinland weald
Tinder insurgents, mountain men, we shall never yield

Longing for a strange night  

Month of June
All in bloom the haze is hiding
Night is soaked in summer, sour in a way
Were delirious from the heat and every need
And the meadow is a heaven full of stars

Were longing for a strange night
In the rare light of seven flowers

In July
A window drenched in sun
A smell of paint and dust, sour in a way 
Got nothing on and the windowpane is burning
And the meadow is purple like a lung 

Were longing for a strange night
In the rare light of seven flowers

It belongs to lovers, to lovers 
It belongs to lovers

End of August 
A barn sun-faded red
A smell of soot and birch, sour in a way 
Far beyond and in stigning heat of fire
Now the meadow is going to bed 

Were longing for a strange night
In the rare light of seven flowers

It belongs to lovers 
It belongs to lovers

Tam-ta-tiki-taka-tuc

Royal agarics, honey agarics
Girolles and russula
Birch mushrooms and red boleti
Guys, I'm a real mushroom hunter

You are poking a high spot, look, a mushroom!

This song really should be prefaced
With the observation of
A newspaper editor I met once he said
"The John Birch Society really should be
Called the Jack Ash Society!"

A bunch of Jack Ash-ites from Belmont, Mass
Have suffered a terrible fright:
They looked under their beds
And discovered such reds
As Allen and Milton and Dwight

If more you would know of this Jack Ash credo
See the Blue Book, the Black Book, the White
If you do you will find wе're
All Reds of some kind
Likе Allen and Milton and Dwight
Joe McCarthy is dead so Jack Ash instead
Leads the anti-Communist fight
U s reds he has found swarming all around
(Some 179 million so far)
Including Allen and Milton and Dwight

If you believe in more hospitals, housing
And schools new highways and civil rights
The Ash-ites will add you
To the un-American list
Along with Allen and Milton and Dwight

Social Security's a Bolshevik plot
Cooked up by some shrewd Muscovite
So go naked you must or be a security risk
Like Allen and Milton and Dwight

Beware of good pay and the minimum wage
It's part of the Socialist blight
Created by conspirators bold
Like Allen and Milton and Dwight!

I snapped back out of this plane crash fantasy still alive
And I know that's not how it would go
I know the actual mess that death leaves behind
It just gets bulldozed in a panic by the living, pushed over the waterfall
Because that's me now, holding all your things
Resisting the inevitable flooding of the archives
The scraps distributed by wind
A life's work just left out in the rain
But I'm doing what I can to reassemble a poor substitute version of you
Made of the fragments and drawings that you left behind
I go though your diaries and notebooks at night
I'm still cradling you in me

There's another Nikolai Astrup painting from 1920
Called "Foxgloves" that hangs on the fridge
And I look at it every morning and every night before bed
Some trees have been cut down next to a stream
Flowing through a birch brow in late spring
And two girls that look like you gather berries and baskets
Hunched over like young animals, grazing
With their red dressed against the white birch three trunks interweaving
Beneath the clattering leaves
The three stumps in the foreground remind me that everything is fleeting
As if reminding is what I need

But then the foxgloves grow
And I read that the first flowers that return to disturbed ground
Like where logging took place
Or where someone like me rolled around wailing in a clearing
Now I don't wonder anymore
If it's significant that all these foxgloves spring up
On the place where I'm about to build our house
And go to live in, let you fade in the night air
Surviving with what dust is left of you here
Now you will recede into the paintings

No, it is the red swan floating
Diving down beneath the water
To the sky it's wings are lifted
With it's blood the waves are reddened!

Or the red swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,

Staining all the waves with crimson,
With the crimson of it's life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor,
Filling all the air with plumage?

Forests Burned

The One AM Radio

A Name Writ in Water

2004

The thin slip of moon through the shade was lost on sleeping eyes seeing smoke rise up through the birch and pine, where a sinking red sun found us, as all around us the fires surro

(Damn things nearly hardly flap)
Canker upon canker upon one million tiny punctures
That look like...
Long thin red ribbons draped across the arms of a lil mortal girl
(Like a ground -plan of Hell)
Curse these smartin strings!

Oh, Red Cedar River
Don't freeze under me this winter
Stay flowing slow like honey
Golden in the sun
Oh, Red Cedar River
I'm but a gray old sinner
Wash me clean in your waters
Sweet on the tongue
Let me breathe your birch tree breeze
From Devil's Lake to Siren Creek
Ferry, Lord, my soul to thee
Part your waves and swallow me
Oh, Red Cedar River
Old friend, old respite giver
Carry me on amber arms
To glory

I could never build the ether
Or the grass overgrown
I could never build the river
With a mouthful of foam
I could never build the winter
With her cold tears of glitter

I've been listening to the red oak
And the acorn she cries
Listening to the white birch
And the paper she dries
I've been listening to the frog's joke
Listening to the firesmoke

I can never tell you now
What I'd often said before
Because promise is a pendulum
Just swinging at the door
And I'm not saying I'm not jealous
Or scared anymore
I'm just saying

I could never build a rainbow
Or any kind of flower
I could never make a sparrow
Or a meteor shower
I could never build an earthworm
Could never make the earth turn

I've been listening to the laughing
Of the fox down the trail
I've been clasping to the listening of the moss to the snail
The shimmer of the beech leaves
As the wind does a big sneeze

I could never tell you now
What I'd often said before
Because promise is a pendulum
Just swinging at the door
And I'm not saying I'm not jealous
Or scared anymore
I'm just saying

I could never build the shadow
Between your cheek and your eye
I could never make a freckle or the warm breath you sigh
In the canopy of lashes
With the softness of ashes

I've been listening to the memory
The way that it was
Listening to the echo of whys and because
Listening to the echo
Telling me to let go

I could never tell you now
What I'd often said before
Because promise is a pendulum
Just hanging at the door
And I'm not saying I'm not jealous
Or scared anymore
I'm just saying
Saying

And the blossom, branches of cherry blossom
A heron in the snow
Pine-clad mountainsides
Mellotronic waterfalls
And the Rhodes piano, jutting rocks
And mist that wraps up like lace
Spring morning sunshine
A crimson dawn
That's as soft as a drunken face
And watching the hawks on a hidden stairway

All of a sudden mountain rain
That blackens enveloping dust
And we wash in an emerald sea of bracken
That waves in the dusk
Stone pine peeling, peeling bark
And a quarry that looks like a church
And falling stones echo
Flat slap and scratch
With the silver moons of the birch
And watching the hawks on a hidden stairway

Stone pine peeling, peeling bark
And a quarry that looks like a church
And falling stones echo
Flat slap and scratch
With the silver moons of the birch
And watching the hawks on a hidden stairway

And the jade bowing ferns
To a charming, charming sky
These heady, heady profusions, in a spin
Zigzagging dragonflies
Slate stream, tin cans, tin cans a-streaming
White flags of cloud
Red slope descending
Scree slip and sliding
Where the way allows
And watching the hawks on a hidden stairway
Watching the hawks on a hidden stairway
Watching the hawks on a hidden stairway
Watching the hawks on a hidden stairway

I don't want to stay
And I don't want to go
But as far as I know
I can't live here anymore
It's a place where no one stops
You can hear them passing through
Like a rustle in the wind
On a cloudless afternoon
The crows flying in
As the magpies sing
Like the pearls on a string
They don't mean anything
It's a beggars belief
To just get up and leave
Turn the red light to green
But they're few and far between
I'm a key without its tone
I'm a child without a home
As I'm standing by the roadside all alone
By the birch and evergreen you will find me
In the shade of linden trees
It is time to let go
To walk out the door
All the dust on the floor
And that old dried up rose
The sun's hanging low
In deep amber tone
On this old country road
Where no thing can grow
I'm a skin without the bone
I'm a king without his throne
As I'm stranded by the roadside on my own
By the birch and evergreen you will find me
In the shade of linden trees
I am out here on my own
It is time that I move on
If I take another step then I'll be gone
By the birch and evergreen you will find me
In the shade of linden trees

The Red Bird - Word and Music by cndrew Frontini, SOCcN 2022
The red bird comes to his nest
c wooden box with feathers dressed
Hung up high in a birch tree
His fine abode he owes to me.

All my attention consumed
So now, I'm offline
Eluding your lure for my life
You can't pull me out of the water
This water's mine
I'm offline
I'm offline
It changed my mind now
Nothing is enough
Every four seconds
I second guess myself
So now, I'm offline
Eluding your lure for my life
You can't pull me out of the water
This water's mine
(I'm offline)
I don't want to be like an NPC
I've got warm blood and the sun's energy
Dig into the earth like a big birch tree
Reach into the moon as it reaches for me
(I'm offline)
I don't want to be would-be debris
I want to bear fruit like a red cherry tree
Taste all the flavors, rosemary, green tea
I want something in which to sink my teeth
(I'm offline)
I don't want to be like an NPC
I've got warm blood and the sun's energy
Dig into the earth like a big birch tree
Reach into the moon as it reaches for me
(I'm offline)
I don't want to be would-be debris
I want to bear fruit like a red cherry tree
Taste all the flavors, rosemary, green tea
I want something in which to sink my teeth

Ogham The Blade
Anrad we have stripped the birch,
to supplant with branch of steel. 
Cold sun spurge, the spark extinguished,
score another notch on haft and shield.