Into Air

by Mary and the Pigeons

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03:21
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02:54
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04:37

credits

released March 18, 2016

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about

Mary and the Pigeons Dublin, Ireland

Mary and The Pigeons are a band hatched by writer and cellist Mary Barnecutt (me) with the aid of my lovely, assorted instrumental friends. Into Air combines my interest in folk music, poetry and an acoustic, minimalist string sound.

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Track Name: Halfway There
Halfway there I’m halfway there,
can’t you feel the air around you, charged and static?
I’m in stop-start motion, charged with emotion,
I’m in the ether, the world beneath here.

Certain people think it just a joke flying here and there because we’re always broke but up here... time’s suspended, the world’s upended above the weather storms the sun shines on us.
Look out the turbulent days; look out the turbulent skies, hold your breath until the sky rights itself, the clouds fall away.
Look out temptation pays no heed to adventurers like us Like us... Like us...
Maybe there, isn’t anywhere where we both exist maybe I blinked and missed it maybe one day I’ll turn around
in case I’ve lost too much ground; in case time runs out faster than any happy ever after.
Halfway there, in the air...
Track Name: Hippo
Pretend that you’re not in the zoo; pretend that everyone’s not looking at you. Pretend that you’re a wallowing fool; pretend he doesn’t make your tongue hang and drool.
And when it rains, it always will keep underwater, lie very still
Pretend that you are not alone; pretend that you’re a fat circus clown. Cartwheel around the spit-sawdust ring; pretend when you fall, you don’t feel a thing.
And when it rains, it always will keep underwater, lie very still.
Pretend that you quite like the life; pretend that it’s you who’s holding the knife. Pretend it’s not the final straw and what you’ve ended up with, it’s not what you thought.
And when it rains, it always will keep underwater, lie very still and when you fall it’s like you’re flying lie in a sprawl, you’re singing, not crying.
Track Name: Moving
They carried their shoes, and tip-toed one-two gingerly out of sight and out of the minds the daytime watchers
let them walk at night.
They wanted their rooms as far from the light as architecture allowed so in one thousand miles the soil settled over grass grown out aloud.
They talked into walls so no one could tell where the voices came from or went. They buried it all, the truth words, unheard stories turned to air.
Track Name: Elephant
Throughout the evening I could feel, the shadow of your leaving. At dusk, the way you stared the floor down it made the bridegroom falter.
Elephant, my elephant. I see you, I see you.
And later, when the dance floor got complicated you put your whiskey down with such purpose that I cried, into outer space and the lights flickered off and on
and off and on and off and on and off and on and on.
Elephant, my elephant. I see you, I see you.
Elephant, my elephant I see you, I see you.
Elephant, my elephant I see you, I see you.
Track Name: Ordinary
They’ve altered the days and rendered the nights unrecognisable. The sky’s out of phase there’s moon dust all over the kitchen table.
They’ve cut the lights, drawn down the blinds let run a riot different kinds of mice the windows liquidised and poured away. They’ve put the doors into the loft
hung out a necklace of raindrops strung out around a dog that barks into an empty jar.
They’ve taken all the days and rendered them all extraordinary. The horizons astray, it walks on it’s hands that bend back slowly.
The family pictures, illuminated staring out at consecrated candles witching throw the shadows cower and submit.
The attic’s jumping with the vermin,
bats are singing unread hymns the garden gates are swing-shut closed to never let you out.
They’ve taken all the days and rendered the nights unrecognisable. The sky’s out of phase there’s moon dust all over the kitchen table.
They’ve gotten hold of all your diaries broadcast all your demons and faeries laughed until the thunder clapped and took a sweeping bow.
They’ve left the papers rotting under garden trees in strung up bundles, meant to burn but only telling rain their news.
They’ve altered the days and rendered the nights away, gone from you.
Track Name: Red High Heels
Red high heels She knows how they make her feel, kicking out the jigs and reels she can dance around. Red high heels. These ones are the real live deal, their soles are scarlet and the toes are pointed into one.
And still she’ll dance in them around her bedroom wear six inches to the ground and pirouette till dawn.
This old friend got herself a pair at the end of the season’s half-price sale and they’re a size too small. This old friend wore her first pair out again has to have them all re-heeled at least they make her tall.
And still she’ll dance in them around her bedroom wear six inches to the ground and pirouette till dawn.
My old friend is heading back for home again. The sun is coming up in town over Heuston Bridge. Six a.m. the lorries beeping at her hem- line’s around her waist again; her shoes are in her hand. They’re glittering in her hand. They’re red dust in her hand.
Track Name: Guest
I get up in the half-light the blur-blue, secret centre of night. Go downstairs; I forget, the front room has been set. Bed decamped, folded clothes in odd places and over all the TV snows.
So she sleeps, like someone ever-abandoning all pretence, of shell, of defence. And in her sleeping gives stark evidence that here is a child still dreaming on.
A child, is still and this older ghost, who walks over this makeshift grave, looks at what’s not her world. Go back to bed it’s not your world. Go back to bed you’ve had your turn.
So she sleeps, like someone ever-abandoning all pretence, of shell, of defence. And in her sleeping gives stark evidence that here is a child still dreaming on and on and on and on.