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about
This song was written in the midst of a bliss in Humboldt County. Sitting underneath a willow tree at the edge of a farm in the mountains next to a river eating dinner. I felt at home.
***This is the second recording of this song. The first I deleted accidentally the morning after it was recorded (Sorry Coelho. I know you really liked the first one. It had crickets in the background and our slighty sleepy voices sounded great. But this track has birds in it...so that's pretty cool.)
SPECIAL THANKS: To Coelho for inviting us up to visit, singing this song with me, and being so wonderful.
lyrics
As I sit beneath the willow tree,
I try and think of another place I'd like to be,
But I can't find one,
No more lonely son,
No more anyone,
Hanging flowing wind is blowing,
Mountain tops watch clouds a-floatin,
I guess I'm having fun,
No more holding on,
No more thinky stuff,
As I sit beneath the willow tree,
I try and think of another place I'd like to be,
But I can't find one,
No more lonely son,
No more anyone...
credits
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