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The Middle Distance

by Moongazing Hare

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1.
Sister, I love the green And the garbage in your veins And after Vementry We’ll see Sidney Street again Sister, I love the steam Off the ground on which you lay And after Vementry We’ll let Leipzig fade away Where did you go while our old friends grew up And got tired of sitting around Chasing that voice from one country to the next Carrying his darkness around Sister, I love the sheen And the hardness in your name And after Vementry We’ll rebuild this house of blame Sister, I love the green And the ground on which you stand And after Vementry I swear I’ll be a different man So I’ll stay here until you can’t take me And I’ll love for as long as I may And I’ll dream of that cliff at the edge of the grass Where the gannets drop into the bay
2.
I imagined some of this might work for us In a different country under different laws And in the evening when they came for us There would be nothing left between these walls Long long Long long Long long Restlessness Long long Long long Long long hope I am overworked and overwhelmed By the blankets rising up to meet me And I dream of a gallow in every square For every pig I’ve let mistreat me I dream of their babies lying quiet in cold beds And one day I’ll wake up to fight the hand that beats me Long long Long long Long long Emptiness Long long Long long Long soft rope I had hoped the streets would turn a softer black Our placid dreams would keep us simple We’d build a happy home between the cracks And watch our country disassemble Long long Long long Long long Restlessness Long long Long long Long long hope You look so tired, now You’re drifting so far away
3.
4.
Oh I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Without a penny in my purse, To buy a meal to me. It was not so in the Highland hills, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! No woman in the whole world So happy was as me. For then I had a score o'kye, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Feeding on yon hill sae high, And giving milk to me. One time I had a hundred sheep Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Skipping o’er yon narrow creek And growing wool for me. Oh I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! No woman in the whole world wide, So wretched now as me.
5.
We could live here We could make this dead place home And scrape off the paint chips The dull refrigerator drone We could live here In one good year We could make these wastelands grow Return our investment Pay off all delinquent loans We could live here And when the first wave finds you Be humble and be brave And be grateful for the times we had Between the green fields and the grave When we lived here Between the sand and the stars Between the cockle and the wave Between the burnt-out cars And every Summer falling All through my room
6.
Boughs bend seabirds call dry leaves shake like dancers Ask not why they fall You would not like the answer I will leap And I will crawl Among the unarmed chancers I will not ask you For whom those bells toll They toll because they can, sir Nothing in this world will keep you satisfied for long Nothing in this world is truly stable But hidden in the wailing there are voices raised in song As long as they are able They found you there Brittle and bored But glad to be remembered Between the stone walls of your fort Among the fading embers A line of beads to mark the place your shoulders used to be A hip that never fully did recover The world could never hold you but left your children free To wander through the clover The world could never hold you in the same skin very long Every home you built was soon ploughed under But hidden in the rubble is the echo of a song And dreams of easy wonders
7.
When your brain pours from your mouth Like sea foam When the birds you knew have all flown south To their winter home When your teeth are just enamel shells in the grou-ou-ound In the garden, laid under a tree Always calling, always out of reach But near to me From the sulphur in the snow Melting in my palm To the seeds that start to grow When the earth gets warm From this grey apartment block To the moon above Runs the river of my thoughts To the sea, the sea of love I have dreamt of a mountain of snow That would cover the wide open road Cuz I have no idea where to go And no plans to fuck up When your hands are dried up husks And your fingernails Lie like shards of wet, swollen plywood In a bed of snails And the rainstorms open up And the sky laughs long and loud At the bones that start to show And at the screams of the gathering crowd I have dreamt of a mountain of snow That would cover the wide open road Cuz I have no idea where to go And no plans to fuck up
8.
Steam comes off the graves tonight Every wound feels bright and clean Every long departed uncle Every unremembered seed Is crowding up towards the light Strain their backs against the green Hiding in explosive air Reaching out from fevered dreams Despite the warning screams of the seagulls The laboured howling of the train Nothing in the shadows but the shadows Nothing in the sky behind the rain I am long pig, this I know Stretched out in the firepit, glowing Rub me down with oil and thyme Let me rest in what’s not mine And I’ve become a hostile witness To this vast and generous wave of death A murmur of forgotten rivers Trace the corners of my bed I am long pig, this I know Stretched out in the firepit, gleaming Dripping into the fire below Turning on the spit a-dreaming Unknowable, untouchable Happy to go down like this Happy to just be a poison In the belly of my faceless enemy --- In my dream, the cop screamed “don't look", but I couldn't board the train without seeing the legless woman and the terrified helpers crowding around her. I stepped out of the shower and collapsed on the floor Heart pounding, head spinning, not even almost ready to die
9.
10.
11.
When the beast broke loose, and trashed our front yard We found the links torn from his chain We heard him rattling in the rafters of the old house Heard him whining through the drain Well, I am here And I am fine Although I know you think I worry all the time But I recall the staggered line Of the rains that swept the fields in ‘99 Cleaning up the old place for the last time I swear I can feel the ground beneath me change And somewhere in these rooms we’ve struggled through There’s still a way out towards the open range Well I need joy And I need wine I need my friends around to keep my thoughts in line But I recall the taste of brine From the waves that cracked the pier in ‘99 Halfway in and out of memory I start to slip back into myself I start to look for signs to remind me of what we used to have here In the scuff-marked floors and on the empty bookshelves Well I am yours And I am mine And I don’t know how to be one person at a time But I recall the single mind Of the storm that broke the trees in ‘99

about

Moongazing Hare has explored loneliness and isolation in the past, but this record is a celebration of the joy of community across time and distance, and of the people who have made the last 15 years of learning to sing my own songs to almost no-one, such a rewarding journey. The songs trace the relationships between homes and bodies; inhabiting, disinhabiting, reinhabiting, longing for and longing out of. Thank you to everyone who has crossed paths with Moongazing Hare over the years, corresponded with us, played with us, nearly played with us, set up shows, come to visit or just thought kindly of us. You're too many to mention and too good to forget. Love to Annette, my radiant daughter Lumi who is just arriving and my grandmother Inge who is moving sweetly on.

credits

released May 18, 2021

All songs on this album are written by David F. Emmanuelli Drost, with the exceptions of (4) adapted from a poem by Robert Burns and (9) written by John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats and released on their record, Full Force Galesburg. All songs recorded at home in Malmö, Sweden and in homes and hollows elsewhere. Invaluable production assistance and recording wisdom by Simon Skjødt Jensen.

Appearing as punch-drunk hares in the mist:
Hugh Atkinson (2) (5) - unworldly guitar and voice
Philipp Bückle (4) (5) - synths and ghostly manipulation
David Colohan (4) (11) - voice and low whistle
Lloyd Degler (1) (11) - guitar, piano and voice
Aske Folkmann Drost (2) (8) (11) - bass synths, keys and voice
David F. Emmanuelli Drost - voice, guitar, mountain dulcimer, recorder, synths, sansula, bells, all else
Simon Skjødt Jensen (3) (5) (7) - guitar, percussion, drones and voice

First edition is released on CDR by the venerable Reverb Worship (www.reverbworship.com) in a numbered edition of 40, catalogue number RW454.
Digital release is handled by Dendron Records, catalogue DDR085.

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Moongazing Hare Copenhagen, Denmark

I try to keep myself warm, calm, loved and out of harm's way. The music is desperately home made and mostly well-intentioned.

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