For the Patron Saint of Travelers

from by Carl-Eric Tangen

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Written in Edmonds, Washington, and Newberg, Oregon, 2009-2010

lyrics

Back when the wars began and the walls all caved in
We breathed in the dust and dead skin
Counting the cost of our sin

But it won't matter that much when we're older
But it won't matter that much when we're colder
But it won't matter that much when we open our eyes

We wandered through the crowd and we heard the trumpet sound
We breathed in the water, not to drown
And heard the blood crying out

But it won't matter that much when we're older
But it won't matter that much when we're colder
But it won't matter that much when we open our eyes

Come to me now, four winds
Let me feel your breath on my skin
Pray for me now, Saint Julian
I see a white stag running in my head

But it won't matter that much when we're older
But it won't matter that much when we're colder
But it won't matter that much when we open our eyes

credits

from Porch Light, released February 28, 2017

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all rights reserved

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about

Carl-Eric Tangen Edmonds, Washington

Experimental sacred Americana from the Pacific Northwest. Member of coastlandcommons.org

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