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Vestigial Tales

by Peleser

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1.
Bold, bold cautious mind. Pip within the buckling fruit Lay out those old joints, allow it to uncomplicate An ocean will sweep your pain, welcome you to sense again but it cannot be to here. Somewhere other. It is such a time to lie there two bodies trapped in one body It is too unfair The suffering - I would be so reproachful As if you had deserved no peace hooked and wrenched through five degrading years As the sound went out what can it be other than a cell A hole - I would have been so resentful and here I catalogue some of You for Me plagued by thoughts of you as historical or anonymous Rather than a hopeless diamond, hurling your intellect against giants And containing your damage and decay with such dignity Farewell, curious mind Farewell, righteous fire Goodnight, broken shell Rest in somewhere other
2.
Watch closely. Breathe slowly. I have hollowed-out and now comes the thaw - the runoff to the river’s maw Turned over and leaf-like I caught waters not designed to let a body go Too far, too fast, too slow Sightseer It feels like the snow Patience, Oh! It is starting to move Morning touch upon the very slow surround Can it feel my force when I’m weak like a roving dial - in and out of sunlight? Downriver, downriver moved me, I though you should know Down to the transient delta where everything goes A little early maybe but there we go Meltwater morning - I’m leaving. I thought you would know The watching and waiting have changed who I was in the snow Sightseer Patience, Oh!
3.
What She Saw 04:46
How long will you pause, Old Mother All that time between the coals? Where you study the stories but know that every ending is cold Pack up the costume and check on the silver All the bright ornaments call from the mantelpiece Not quite the dark here, you watch from a window As the race rattles on all the fine young things tumble Under the coal’s glow Seasons to come have already gone Watching them go Is it living is grieving or Grief is the whole? Ha ha Make it look easy Joining it up is the key Lost in the pieces Ha ha
4.
It Was Late 02:18
It must have been late…maybe Winter even…and I was shivering and it’s at night There are no creatures. It was so cold. All of these trees and no creatures My hump started to swell and sway. Must’ve been miles from anywhere, probably I don’t know…it was so long ago. Well, it was fidgeting about so I did what it wanted And when I came to a fork in the road it shifted left, so left I went, Down this spindly little path whose bushes had spilled over And we walked for an hour or something and it twitched left off the path And I followed it and end up in this clearing and there’s this man there and he beckons me over Hazel & Brown…the rest of him made of mean bones but those big eyes buried me He put his hand to the hump and it rose up like a nuzzling dog And with something like hot water running down my back, my hump had melted away And he walked away to. And it was suddenly very lonely
5.
Intermission 02:56
6.
As a boy he’d had a wooden horse, stolen by his brother and dropped in the paddock at the end of the garden and he’d start awake fifty years later thinking of this horse, rotting deep in the mud. His brother was long dead and he’d left everything to his estranged wife who never cared for either of them. She’d got the house and the garden and the field with the horse. He would dream about creeping in and digging it up, taking the toy from the ground and slipping her, sleeping, into its place. And he found the dreams got worse - daydreams now, patterns…patterns ruptured by the wakings until one night when he snuck out to the paddock and scrabbled in the dirt with his hands, feverishly clawing and raking the soil and he starts to cry, more out of tiredness than anything, but lights go on in the house and he’s too involved to notice the woman walk down, the torch bobbing in her hand.Or the shouting. But when she lays a hand on his shoulder he turns and then she is beneath him, wriggling in the ground, hands around her throat and he heaps earth into her mouth. She thrashes and the torchlight slices the air and he turns his face away. But then the shouting drains back: muffled and weakened. And she slows. And stops. He looks down. Her jaw thrust up through the topsoil and the beam of the fallen torch catches a glimpse of something beside, hidden for fifty years - the mouth of the little wooden horse lifted from the fresh grave
7.
Threads of primrose, oh Tangled in the undergrowth Show the way the winds may blow below A dried place of heaviness, Recollected by the bark By the humming of insects Yellow was the cloth he brought Homecoming from market, oh There his love would kneel and sow A present for the youngest one There, in the yellow dress, Treasure of the wild wood She would share a wordless gift Carried out by scavengers Yellow dress, the yellow dress A ship that has lost its sail Lingers half a mile from shore Manned by memories of men Below A soft tide will roll their bones Wash their ever-nodding crowns Of letters that must go back home Alone Yellow was the sail she flew Undulating in the breeze Filled with secret horrors, oh Of carrion and cadences and There, in the yellow thread, Skipping through the quiet wood She will weave between the trees Strings of dark fertility
8.
Bead 03:23
So then there is Life And now And now what to do? The bees move among the lavender Their wings beat like it is nothing A little bead on a slow, warm cycle That gathers speed and sensation There will be moss We don’t rolls fast Okay Is it seasonal? A harvest from a strange new place Little bead from a quiet cupboard All your minutes raw with meaning You’ll have to wait For we don’t roll so fast
9.

about

Debut album by alt folk act Peleser

credits

released March 6, 2019

Wacian - Vocals
Aort - Instrumentation

Recorded and produced by Peleser

Cover photography by guðmundur óli pálmason (www.facebook.com/kuggurart)

For further information, go to www.facebook.com/peleserband

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about

Peleser England, UK

PELESER is a 2-piece act with a core drawn between past and future. Blending elements of Folk, Ambient, and Neofolk with dashes of Jazz and Blues, Peleser weaves to create something both intimate and otherworldly. Lyrically the album combines supernatural folk tales with those of the personal, its roots deep in the dark English soil. ... more

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