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Waiting For Angels

by Peter Bruce Wilder

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1.
So, You 03:15
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so, you 12.08.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI looking at your picture on the wall beneath the light a slice into the amber and a moment’s nod to night and miles blindly walked through all those unremembered parks and horoscoped predictions bouncing off some charlie’s chart so, you — I can’t believe you’re gone so, you — I can’t believe we’re wrong so, you — love, it’s been so long so, you’ve — become the newest song shadows make their ribbons from the orange city skies as the roar of all the world is silenced by your quiet cries and when the dawn comes kissing through the curtain’s filmy gauze too soon it comes to missing and assigning of the cause so, you — I can’t believe you’re gone so, you — I can’t believe we’re wrong so, you — love, it’s been so long so, you’ve — become the newest song text becomes the cynic as we both play in-box tag and timing grows more limits and neither breaks the gag non-conversations distant feather off into the black as neither of us sacrifice enough to get us back so, you — I can’t believe you’re gone so, you — I can’t believe we’re wrong so, you — love, it’s been so long so, you’ve — become the newest song five winters, four summers, springs and often falls pictures painted, paintings washed out by a rain that covers all so, you — I can’t believe you’re gone so, you — I can’t believe we’re wrong so, you — love, it’s been so long so, you’ve — become the newest song
2.
Waiting For Angels 04:20
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waiting for angels 08.10.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI brushing the last of the crumbs from her fingers smoothing her skirt and adjusting her socks gesturing flies off the pools of spilled margerine magna cum laude the school of hard knocks dogs in the yard lift their muzzles in hope she leans through the doorway open and bare rusty cars and old empties — decayed Tonkas and rope the overgrown histories, decay and declare waiting for angels she knows were forgotten lost in the blue of an ocean of things waiting for angels alone on a roadside wheat fields still ripple from their soft beating wings home comes her man with frustration, exhaustion treading the mill and still grasping at straws putting food on the table keep a car up; pay taxes below all that radar, ignored by these laws forgetting gets harder amidst the Old Crowing the tempo starts pushing up fahrenheit red the blaming and shouting the crying things throwing tangled sheets and I’m sorries, they make up in bed waiting for angels she knows were forgotten... inventing her future from a present in shambles erasing the blackness with a spraypainted white fighting the good fight and ignoring the gambles juggling the books every day every night arms stretched to Heaven faith strained to breaking what kind of sin is deserving of this fate walls cracked and falling everybody is taking low roads now floating on the oil spills of hate waiting for angels...
3.
The Turns We Take 05:09
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the turns we take 07.02.05 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI flipping over hidden postcards from a softly checkered past so many forks so many roads with so much rock still yet to blast she finds me in the last imagined places that I want to be drenched with sweat, sunglasses slipping, “how are you?” is what’s asked of me could I have a moment to change history — could I have a moment to remake? might not the fates just grant a quiet peace of time to swim through love we make can’t I just ignore these empty spaces — can’t I just ignore what most forsake and overcome the fates that keep us separated by all these turns we take archived ripples passion filed in dark blue rooms of memory locked silences become the decades since we last sat down and talked words they mean so much between us soft syllables hold the heaven’s earth you speak of pain you speak of joy — I marvel in a delicate mirth could I have a moment to make longer — could I have a moment stopped in time might not the fates just grant a quiet place for us to fly through lines we rhyme can’t I just ignore these empty houses — can’t I just ignore each daily fake and overcome the fates that keep us separated by all these turns we take floating by those aisles of shelving pregnant with each Dewey’d age awareness of each second passing I’m worlds away when you close the page so strong within — this image of you the deep, green smells of August walks the bed we make’s the one we sleep in — private sadness covered by friendly talks could I have a moment to change history — could I have a moment to remake might not the fates just grant a quiet peace of time to swim through love we make can’t I just ignore these empty spaces — can’t I just ignore what most forsake and overcome the fates that keep us separated by all these turns we take could I have a moment to imagine — could I have a moment to create might not the fates ignore for one more time this private, selfish yearning, late could we find a moment for together — could we find a moment just to share these turns we take, into completion’s threshold or they can keep us waiting there
4.
Bones In The Sand 04:22
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bones in the sand 08.10.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI peeping through the crevice of a hundred million years the way this love’s evolving leads all patience off the cliff creeping through the twilight of a decade once too near the way this love’s resolving pleads the echo of what if and why can’t I resuscitate these bones in the sand and build a garden trellis and put the roses in your hair tell me why can’t I regenerate the warmth of your hands fall back into those waters of a promise waiting there of a promise waiting there the wind toys with the sands exposing frames once trapped in time they wait for a museum just to speculate on truth how can two lives so intertwined at heart still be so distant how can two souls so disregard the signposts of their youth and why can’t I resuscitate these bones in the sand and build a garden trellis and put the roses in your hair tell me why can’t I regenerate the warmth of your hands fall back into those waters of a promise waiting there
5.
The Assuming Dark 04:28
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the assuming dark 09.16.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI circling histories repeating themselves — advantages taken of truncated lives one generation dominates the other — burying the evidence, washing the knives gramma was clear on good and evil but allowed the fringes of black and white where complex strands of gray co-mingle and never say for or against the night what of these crack pots and their semi autos? what of these pacifists torching themselves? loading up on ammo in a Montana meadow or facing chain saws in a redwood hell the assuming dark approaches clearly — the northern hemispheres contract their light these humans huddled, alone together trying to ferret the day from night the assuming dark blankets softly — allowing stars where there is no power these humans crying, alone — together creating hurdles that grow into towers a world economy based on war — commerce based on taking it all sharing only with advantages proven — great empires never realize their fall prodding diversity to make it all march to drummers that howl behind every turn the soul of the rich as a pawn shop owner crushing the innocent with money to burn what of grown infants and their rush to judgement? attempting to legislate behavior, routine what of hearing God’s voice from the mountains justifying an empire too large to be seen the assuming dark approaches clearly — the northern hemispheres contract their light these humans huddled, alone together trying to ferret the day from night the assuming dark blankets softly — allowing stars where there is no power these humans crying, alone — together creating hurdles that grow into towers and what of you and what of me? do we operate on a basis of truth? are we moving pieces across life’s gameboard? is it all we learned from wasted youth? the assuming dark approaches clearly — the northern hemispheres contract their light these humans huddled, alone together trying to ferret the day from night the assuming dark blankets softly — allowing stars where there is no power these humans crying, alone — together creating hurdles that grow into towers
6.
Under a Willow Spreading 03:22
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under a willow spreading 08.10.04 Peter Bruce wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI I received your message (voice) while driving back from Maine it made my mouth taste yearning and a subtle sting of pain so why can’t I just call you back to find you, make the drive and complicate this life of lack and share a reason, live under a willow spreading in the hammock by the lake I couldn’t hear the dreading ‘ cause of choices that we’d make and hindsight, twenty-twenty is too easy to enjoy under a willow spreading — you a girl and me, a boy every day I dream it: to show up at your door imagining you mean it when you kiss me to the floor we ditch the cars in Potsdam clear the border, heading west and then the colors vanish as the conscious does its best under a willow spreading in the hammock by the lake I couldn’t hear the dreading ‘cause of choices that we’d make and hindsight, twenty-twenty is too easy to enjoy under a willow spreading — you a girl and me, a boy and time becomes a nuisance and “responsible” the king we’re propertied and familied indebted to these things so would you if I asked you: turn your back on all of this to pursue an ancient promise kept within a gentle kiss under a willow spreading in the hammock by the lake I couldn’t hear the dreading ‘cause of choices that we’d make and hindsight, twenty-twenty is too easy to enjoy under a willow spreading — you a girl and me, a boy
7.
The Big, Big Lie 03:10
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the big, big lie 08.10.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earllines, BMI it started when you learned to spell the word: ramifications you called up all your friends the week your parents had vacations you disavowed the broken places, dented fender, and the shattered vases innocently dumb and mute and smiling through your braces so now you’re all grown up you’ve told the big, big lie because if you revealed the real you’d look just like the fool so keep up the appearances and tell the big, big lie embroidery expands the deal and keeps the image cool service with a smile as if the pillows insulated the stress scent from your pores as you frictioned and gyrated it’s not that I suspected what your mannerisms showed me it wasn’t undetected, but the magnitude still bowed me so now you’re all grown up you’ve told the big, big lie it’s not quite presidential though impressive in its scope so let’s keep up appearances and tell the big, big lie it seems so residential as you struggle just to cope truth is as truth gets never pure or quite compelling truth hurts as truth lets never sure, it’s in the telling service with a smile as if the pillows insulated the stress scent of your pores as you frictioned and gyrated it’s not that I suspected what your mannerisms showed me and it wasn’t undetected, but the magnitude still bowed me
8.
Close Up of a One Side Love 04:10
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closeup of a one sided love 08.25.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI bringing you closer my hands on your waist we bathe in this fragrance anticipate taste I brush off the strands of your deep midnight hair you make us both tremble our lips paused and bare we talk of ageless and timeless and trials comparing the distance examining the miles if history’s consumed in a fury of pasts why does this place in our two souls still last? if ever there was a stopping of worlds it’s when we first kissed universes unfurled these infinite cosmos at once and revealed the meaning of all was never repealed It just a close up of a one-sided love I’ve been here before, I’ll be here again... and again and again and again rarely the same I expect this is true the moment one sided or was it you too? our road choices since painting turns upon turns away from each other tell me what did we learn? for me it’s these dreams that keep on reoccurring the thorough immersion and 3 a.m. stirring and waking with all of your essence still haunting your smile beguiling and me still and wanting if ever there was a stopping of worlds it’s when we first kissed universes unfurled these infinite cosmos at once and revealed the meaning of all was never repealed It just a close up of a one-sided love...
9.
I Heard You Crying 04:42
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I heard you crying 09.16.04 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI I heard you crying and groping through your hurting scaling the harsh cliffs of denial, and meanness and blame my hands all knotted, and bound up and restrained beyond reason these borders defined keep a wall ‘round your flame I heard you crying in the stillness of silence moving slowly through these valleys with their thousand foot walls I heard you crying alone with the stars in your bedroom if only you’d let me, I’d reverse your fall If I offered to hold you so close, tell me, would you let me? behind stone walls of pride, hiding closed and locked rooms of betrayal how much would you gamble away for a sanctuary of pure contentment how hazardous is this rocky terrain of souls, all too frail I heard you crying in the stillness of silence moving slowly through these valleys with their thousand foot walls I heard you crying alone with the stars in your bedroom if only you’d let me, I’d reverse your fall what was it you said in the middle of your dream that now isn’t as important as the day once seemed seeking a place you once caught a glimpse of in my eyes standing down the obstacles and embracing the prize you’re curled up in blankets the night still decended it’s all I can do to retreat from this advantaged refrain your dreams so much better than what you always feel waking I yearn to embrace to absorb and to heal all your pain I hear you crying in the stillness of silence moving slowly through these valleys with their thousand foot walls I heard you crying alone with the stars in your bedroom if only you’d let me, I’d reverse your fall
10.
The End of the Day 03:30
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the end of the day 02.19.07 Peter Bruce Wilder copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI the end of the day caresses my forehead and blankets my earth with a star-quilt of dreams the end of the day brings all lines in focus and tallies the worth and softens the screams lavender airs mixed with woodsmoke and frost for so many years I’d forgotten the cost of making repairs unto moments thought lost and finding them waiting for you the end of the day when Azure trumps Amber and Azure surprised when covered by Night the end of the day responses that camber and gaze into eyes filled with echoing light deep diving sun strains to plowshare the skies the moonlight shows paintings of stars in your eyes if urgent is wanting and melding: the prize promises have no refrain the end of the day candlelight flickers the dogs breathe their sighs and absorb the warm fire though darkness enshrouds there’s hours before embers and no wayward clouds to dim moonlight’s desire goodwill to all and then bring peace on earth it seems all so simple and so much the worth when holding you close in the comforter’s mirth and silhouette you with my hands the end of the day caresses my forehead...

credits

released April 5, 2007

Recorded in Vermont, June 2005 to March 2007
All content created, performed, recorded and mastered by Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2007 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI.
All rights reserved.

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Tundra Records Group Artists Hyde Park, Vermont

Tundra Records Group was formed to record and support the recording and production for committed artists in their quest for artistic and professional recognition. Specializing in singer-songwriters, Tundra has been directly involved with the creation of over a dozen independent releases.

For more info, please contact us at:

Tundra Records Group
P.O. Box 302
Hyde Park, Vermont 05655-0302 ... more

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