There ain't no beacon lit upon that shore
There's no signal fire for us to burn
There's no red dress waving in that slamming screen door
No, we don't live here anymore
We built this whole haunted mess ourselves
That old sleeping giant? He ain't concerned with us.
We ain't had no devil in here riding shotgun.
But we got that wilderness in our blood.
Baby, when you met me, I was living scared.
I was always braiding fennel wreaths and running up the cellar stairs.
I was so in love with my despair, that I almost missed you,
Standing there,
A cardinal feather in your long black hair...
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2022