1. |
No Mirror
05:20
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She stands at the end of a corridor.
Her hair, fallen like moonlight,
and she dance.
How she dance.
Her fists open into hands.
She reaches one out for me,
and I step.
How I step.
One foot in front of the other.
None get me closer to her,
and in this way she’ll be my mirror.
I wipe the dust from her face.
I’ll do this twice a day,
but there’s no mirror.
I stand on The Living Mountain
drinking from youthful springs.
I am what I am.
She told me to follow my heart,
but not if it lead me to her.
I tried. I really tried.
But my blood is flowing thin,
splashed above the doors again.
If I buy fake stuff, will anyone ever know?
I took the first train out of here
trying to get my mind clear,
but I can’t stop thinking.
Carve a bear into my leg.
Do it for strength and for courage.
Listen to my buffalo heart
flutter as I leap from a Tennessee mountain.
Place the trilobite on my chest.
Shield me from my enemies.
Set the ox skull on my head.
Will teach me how to pray?
Teach me how to pray. / Come and see.
Because I’m the very first religion. / Not the last.
I’m the very first ray of light. / Flicker on.
I’m the very first sound. / Selah, selah.
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Motes Los Angeles, California
Motes is an Ohio-born, Nashville-raised producer and songwriter working out of Los Angeles. He writes jazz-inspired rock music with a pop sensibility, exploring themes of love, loss, and myth.
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