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I trap the pigeons
in the ceiling
so they wont fly away.

You don’t buy gas
at the station
but you still have to pay.

I run my blade
down the old man’s throat
so he’s too scared
to pass away.

I’ll rob you
so you know
what to hold on to.

The lights leave the city
fade from the north
to the still water on the lake shore.

I gather strays
the city gathers dust
we’re robbed of every color
but rust.

The grass dries to a curled finger
mice bob in the pond
it’s hard to count the things that are gone.

You’ll never go—
you’ll never go—
I will never ease my hold

You’ll never leave—
you’ll never leave—
I don’t want to feel grief.


from The Snow Queen: A Folk Opera, released August 8, 2014



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Laura Dunn and the Ghosts of Xmas Past Portland, Oregon

with Bjorkish runaway melodies and surreal lyricism, Laura Dunn and the Ghosts of Xmas Past combine banjo-driven creepy folk music with opera singers, toy pianos and rattling chains.
She sounds like "Emmylou Harris singing in a haunted house" --James Duval, Virginia Omnivore
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