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lyrics

Close your eyes, we’ll sound the way through old souls all rapt in wonder
For the arc of them, a stitch of vein, reflecting on each other.
Communicating down the line with hints and curves appearing
On measured ground, in plotted stars, they’re spilling out.

The city choirs will sing ‘til dawn, their songs like cables wailing.
A twitch and jump, a rush of blood, all resonating outwards.
I dream of clocks, I dream of clones sounding out together,
The click of hearts and the hours lost as I breathe on.

Radios with callers breaking through for I don’t know how long now.
This babbling, this slip of tongues all fused into one.

This is the sound of dislocating,
This is the sound of distance overtaking
And all my words and thoughts are failing
Above the sound of something being swamped.

These are the sounds my heart was cupped to catch before I sleep.
These are the sounds that muscle in around you while you speak.

credits

from We're becoming islands one by one, released May 31, 2013

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about

The Sleeping Years London, UK

The Sleeping Years is the solo project for Dale Grundle, formerly of the Catchers.
‘We’re becoming Islands One by One’, showcases Dale’s exquisitely crafted, highly personal songs, influenced by the language and culture of Northern Ireland.

Guardian: ‘his voice breaks exquisitely between hope and despair in songs that the acoustic guitar was invented for’
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