Shapes and Seasons 7"

by Robin Bacior

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    Limited run of Shapes and Seasons 7", pressing by Morphius Records. Original artwork by Shaun Behrent.

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Two tracks from 'I Left You, Still In Love' EP.

credits

released 01 February 2013

All songs written by Robin Bacior

Robin Bacior- vocals, guitar, piano
Dan Bindschedler- Cello
Josh Besserman- Drums
Nick Smeraski- Mixing
Sky Onion Mastering- Mastering

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Robin Bacior Portland, Oregon

Born and raised in California, Bacior took great influence from California folk traditions and brought them with her to New York, where she began to collaborate with cellist Dan Bindschedler. The two started mending in more textured instrumentation, layering dynamic sounds into simple folk structures. Bacior and Bindschedler now both live in Portland, where they're working on a new album for 2014. ... more

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Track Name: Shapes and Seasons (A Side)
I can be afraid enough to stay up from black to white out.
Eyes wide, talking the night through its demise down.
Isn't that life, scared and horizon bound?
Pride lost to mountain lines, maybe found.

I think I'm saying something right,
but what if everybody's finding holes in me?
What if I am just a starry night?
'cause I got a lot of friends making wishes in me,
I carry their beliefs right in my belly,
If I lost their love, it would be so telling.

Life don't come easy in all shapes and seasons,
but I hope it has its reasons.

Spring came by to save the city from its blues,
girls in skirts, Brooklyn in a more romantic mood.
Even if the flowers never came, I'd still choose you,
when I'm out west, I still choose you.

All my old pals sleep in beds far from my sea,
the days we meet are so far between.
We're all off, eatin' foreign bread, being free.
Saving our years to share what we've seen.

Life don't come easy in all shapes and seasons,
but I hope it has its reasons.

Time is enough for me now.
Track Name: Rabbit (B Side)
The heart stares behind glasses,
mascara runs down all it's lashes.
It's with the eyes it clashes over who can see.
The whole body's at at war,
no limb knows the other anymore.
They'd all flee for unnamed islands,
were it not for the peace of the skin.
Walking toward with all this disconcert,
my blood, my stomach, it grows, it worsens.
I temper it like an angry sea held by a beach.
I take you in to rest your weary feet.

And I forgive the whole damn thing.

At a last meal for lovers,
I gave you poems I couldn't see in others.
You folded them like a rabbit's foot to carry for luck.
But that's all it was, a strange limb you could live without,
you could barely give a fuck.
All's now been buried,
by years of man-made memories.
It still stirs alive with a breeze to carry.
Sometimes I feel weighted by that dead,
but somehow it still makes me feel lucky.

And I forgive the whole damn thing.