Sometimes, I picture you in dreams where I'm still yours.
I wake up terrified, and I don't know what for.
Sometimes, the ringing of one note is so discrete
that you're convinced you love the bell for being sweet.
But when I think of you, I think of little birds.
They take a bath, and so I think they'll stay;
I put out seeds and give them names,
but they'll be gone by nightfall, all the same.
I used to follow you like a bear follows a stream,
up to a glade where winter bleeds into a dream,
and where the salmon do their cartwheels in the air.
I never questioned it because I didn't care.
But now I can't recall the words to all your songs.
In brighter days, I learned them perfectly
and quoted them relentlessly.
I always tried too hard to please.
Please don't come back home,
You were built to roam,
and I was built to sleep,
so my dreams
were bought for cheap.
I used to beat my heart just like an aching drum.
I hoped that it would march me back to where you're from.
But now I listen close, it whispers what to do:
I've got to find my way upriver without you
and circumlocate 'til I find forevermore.
I'd build a house somewhere you'd prob'ly hate,
I'd stay out nights and sleep in late,
no hostage to negotiate.
Don't come back to me,
We'll leave behind our lonesome things,
except for one:
you can keep the ring.
from Little Bird,
released November 16, 2018
Vocals, Acoustic + Electric Guitar: Scott Reu
Piano, Electric Bass: James Riotto
Drums: Jason Slota
JV's 2019 release is experimental but eminently listenable, a trick that few artists can pull off. It's incredibly bold, but also deeply beautiful. I wish I could write something this arresting. Scott Reu