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about

Yehia ran from the war and when he looked back all he could see were ruins. This song is about him.

lyrics

Old red car, blanket of stars
Driving through town with both windows down
We didn’t follow the signs, your hand on mine
I pulled over, you smiled, we leaned in to kiss and hide
The engine roared, you pulled your shirt straight
I dropped you off a block from home
You leaned in the window and said you wanted more of the same
The first bombs fell digitally
On YouTube, not on TV, so far away from you and me
Suddenly we were enemies
You father in his shiny uniform, he said I would hang from your family tree
Then the walls started to shake, the sky started to break
Planes whistled and then buried us in clouds of hate

I will go home someday
And I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been
Weeping amongst the ruins

Old red car, blanket of stars
Medicines, blankets and beans on the seat where you used to be
Broken signs point to the ground
The few who remained on their feet wouldn’t run
They said “we don’t need the blankets, we need machine guns”
When the clouds closed in on me, you wept and said “let’s just flee”
But it’s treason to run off with the archenemy
Old red car, parked in the wrong place
Its shattered headlights like sad eyes saying it’s time for you to go away

I will go home someday
And I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been
Weeping amongst the ruins

Old red car, blanket of stars
2000 miles from home, but you sound even farther away on the phone
You say “please, I’m ready to go, to hang from my family tree”
But I lie and I say I don’t love you anymore
Silence, click and then a dial tone
The old red car’s engine roars and leaves me standing here all alone

I will go home someday
And I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been
Weeping amongst the ruins

credits

from Portraits, released October 4, 2019

license

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tags

about

a Singer of Songs Barcelona

I sing songs in the bathroom. In packed and empty venues. In gardens, sheds and churches. Once in a weird Finnish gym and also in the oldest house in Switzerland. On a boat and in a bus and in a horse farm. In noisy Italian bars and spookily silent Belgian rooms. On my own and with people.
I sing songs and if you want, you can listen.
... more

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