1. |
Waiting for My Friend
02:46
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I’m waiting for my friend
soon he’ll be
coming down the hill
not much matters to me
when we sit
with the snacks and tea
and I think he likes
to look in my eyes
fluttering
to my surprise
I’m waiting for my friend
there he is
coming down the hill
not much matters to me
when he laughs
and tries to hold my feet
and when he looks
into my eyes
I look back
to my surprise
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2. |
A Woman's Worth
03:05
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Night dreams
how they cling to us
thick and sweet
how they trouble us
and I woke to a dark house
again
barely in the hall
he drops the keys
I wake and turn
walk down to meet him
I know a woman’s worth
but have given mine
again, again, again
skirting the lawn
with his tennis ball
training the dog
how to beg
I tried as well
but didn’t know
what to say
dreams fulfilled
but the edges worn with
drawn out grievances
long nights
and the sullen dinners
yes I know a woman’s worth
but have given mine
again, again, again
I’d better keep the rest
there it is
no shining mantelpiece
there it is
in the stars!
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3. |
Rheingold
03:24
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How can I touch you
with your back to my face?
how can I say what matters,
what’s dearest to me now?
I thought it was good
out in the soil patch
I dig in a daze
circling for metaphor
or a herb to make me
better today
when I know it’s just thought
your shoulders
on my mind
I forget
all I have learned
I guess it is love
in this cliff perched
weatherboard
we potter and pace
and I can see the outlines
of a sea storm taking shape
was it ever soft and still?
I can’t recall
how can I touch you
in this wind blown place
how can I love you
with my spirit
blown away?
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4. |
Silver
03:14
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As a long night settles in
I set out for his studio
seeking beer and company
by the factories -
great, sleeping tombs
the desk is cluttered, sinking
but he pours the drink
so carefully
we talk in turns
on a borrowed couch
watch the lamp throw shadows
on our feet
what is this I feel?
sentiment or thrill?
a bit of gold
or silver?
share a smoke
with the windows wide
through the burn of his throat
he says
give it a try
see this passing
going cold and steely
leave me wrapped up
going over
visions of this night
riding home
sun threatening to rise
brush the hair back
from my brow
coffee pouring
in the quiet and stillness
fancy leaving behind all this
for him
still…
send in the light!
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5. |
Sometimes Do
04:21
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Long were the afternoons spent
trying to be different girls
only to find that the one you first met
dizzy on cheap cigarettes
had caught you
that late evening
I borrowed your lighter
I didn’t know how to use it
I think of the morning after
in the coffee shop
I think of the rainy hills
where we hid in my car
I think of you
sometimes do
even now
but how could I ever
return to that thought?
how many seasons
until I am done?
when your housemate
he went away
you invited me in
damp from the shower
I looked at the plants
and studied your belongings
we sat on the couch
drank something
even in silence
and even in solitude
I’ll see a reminder
I’ll think of the holidays
and that we never touched
I’ll think of our city shoes
wet in the forest brush
I’ll think of you
sometimes will
even now
but how could I ever
return to that house?
how many summers
until it burns down?
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6. |
Autumn Song
02:43
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Where did the season begin?
heavier quilts
and the trees darkening
auburn, red and gold
chimneys puff plumes
into the eve
leaving the city to sleep
something to do with
the light seeping in
underneath the door
picks my dreams up
and flips them around
head to the north
and the east
stopping for chestnuts,
a lime and star anise
airing out the house
pulling down cobwebs
pouring tea
passing the hatchet to you
leaning the firewood
to dry upon the porch
I believe in this,
alpine, red bottle brush
and the sun
where did the season end?
heavier quilts
and the trees naked
auburn, red and gold
choking the gutters
on the strip
back to the city for heat
something to do
with the night air breezing in
underneath the door
picks my dreams up
and flips them around
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7. |
He Heard Everything
03:54
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When I get home by dark
and he’s there
with a solemn hand in hello
I walk to the kitchen
make myself a snack
and I know
that something is amiss
all the silence
tells me that it is
why I call myself
a widow of sorts
he falls asleep in the chair
I smoke by a window
on the landing
tell him I’m going out to see
a film or a friend
for a drink at the inn
I go over all the details, again
part the blind to see
the world still down,
dithering there
told him I’m sorry, again
but he won’t hear it
and he heard everything
television, creaks
and the clink of gin
days since pass
in the cloak of a dream
washing dishes and
staring at folks in the street
I take myself into the town
a lowly lizard
looking for somewhere to sun
myself
warm my blood
shed the skin
of all that’s done
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8. |
I Went to the Ocean
03:11
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I went to the ocean
through the veil
of a January fog
sun spilling emulsions
upon a cape
unaware of anyone
throw my dress onto the beach
knee deep in the salty cold
and the seaweed
swim out ‘til hurts to breathe
roll over and let the water
come hold me
see how the heavens
hold time for us
still we insist
we can do it ourselves
stitch in the cloth
or a speck in the sea
I remember
home
a cove of pleasantries
marmalade
and the sound of animals
wring my hair into the sink
draw a face
where some adversary was
madeleines and milky tea
in the garden
beneath the fig
and the loquat tree
call a friend to hear her speak
wait for something
to come around
and involve me
how can I mend this life for us?
detail the hems and the ties for us?
deep in the night
with the cat at my feet
I remember to stop
trying
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9. |
Leave It There
03:16
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Given enough time
I’ll find your hair
filling the sink
given enough time
you’ll find me clipping
your sentences
let’s leave it there
with the songs
and the chats
the coffee
and the visits
there’s a lamp
I read by
when you went away
it needs a shake to come on
it only tilts one way
let’s leave it there
with the kicks
and hotels
the city
and the hills
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10. |
Left Open in a Room
03:54
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I’ll leave the door wide open
check the view
and I know the little things
could be better
settle the dogs
and towel dry my hair
better wait ‘til morning
to bring in the clothes
a fern getting dusty
in the corner
I saw myself
getting old
and all this
while waiting for you
like a book
left open in a room
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Lucy Roleff Melbourne, Australia
Lucy Roleff is a classically trained, folk musician from Melbourne.
"The focal point
of Roleff’s music is, of course, her voice: this quavering, rather deep husk, that has the blunt European tongue of singers like Nico and Sibylle Baier"- Happy
... more
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