Joy and Gravity

by Jeff Fowler

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about

It may have taken me ten years to do it, but I finally realized my ambition to create an album all alone. I am so happy to be sharing this after such a long time dreaming about it! Officially released in hard copy on February 7.

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released February 7, 2009

Everything from the ground to the sound by Jeff Fowler.

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tags: acoustic

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Track Name: The Potential For Sameness
Beauty is a compromise
between what's new and what's familiar.
We owe our dearth of sight
to the modern world and history's interference.

I can't believe
that time is passing even now.
As far as I know
I'm sitting down, down, down.

We feel as points without lines,
lacking structure and support.
As if the air we breathe
just ends at our door.

But the grammar of geometry
is not an apt description
of the endless pulsing currents of our
beautiful condition.

The joys of breath
can be a heavy test
for hands that reach
and tongues that speak.

Beauty is an open eye
between the rocks and what we make them.
From the rough, hard edges
come the shapely forms and other complication.

It isn't wise
to hold your ears and feel alone
when a message in the air's
as good as seed that's been sown.

And the seasons come and go
and it's easy to assume
things'll never be the same
things'll never be the same.

But the winter and its snow
is the summer's other name,
and the trees are on the plain
with the trees still on the plain...
Track Name: Love I've Had
I've got one great big extra arm
to fold around you when you sleep;
I can't believe that you're not here.

You have the face of one so dear,
you have the face of love I've had
you have the face of love I will give.

I
feel rather slight,
(inadequately shaded in),
but you
will be there too
to cast relief upon my lighter spaces.

We are caricatures
drawn with pencils in our hands,
and I am overwhelmed.

There are seas and there are shores,
and all our lines drawn in the sand
will melt away as sure as I
Track Name: Wide Heart
There was a small girl
whose eyes I adored,
but things became, hmm, difficult-
we don't talk anymore.

And so our oceans,
and mountains, and plains,
lie resolute, unsailed,
unscaled, and unclaimed.

I've got a wide heart,
and it's open to the wind.
It's motions are erratic
and it's membranes are thin.

The weather outside is gorgeous
but the cold's movin' in.

Is it because, because, because,
we can't let ourselves be happy?
Is it because, because, because,
we can't cut ourselves free?
Is it because, because, because,
we can't let ourselves be happy?
Is it because the shoulders of
our bodies are too weak?

It was a cool night
when we met alone.
Her steps were quiet
and her cheeks were wind blown.

It was a small part
that she played onstage-
an entrance from the left
and exit the same.

I've got a wide heart
and it's open to the air.
The whisper is the moment
when the moment is fair.

The weather outside is gorgeous
but the cold's going there.
Track Name: Room Enough For Both
Situations unfamiliar to me,
but shit, maybe I can love these too.
This has been complicated or tough to believe,
depending on how hard I think things through.

And oh, the sakura, so pretty in spring!
But still miles to go, and things to do.
We should have sat a while and rested our wings,
just been simple birds near flowers in bloom.

But there's room enough for both
the horror and the hope
in a quiet, lilting hour,
there's no wind and there's no choir

from the television bulb,
just a hopeful faceless mob
changing quiet into fire,
burning totems, burning tires.

But there's room enough for both
the horror and the hope.
Track Name: Farvel, Min Kaere
On the map that's up there on the wall
everywhere's a different color, it's a false representation of the
world's lines, mountains, and waterfalls
as the crow flies into the wind.

Airplanes can make anything seem small.
Everything's a little closer, it's a faulty expectation cause the
world's as big as it ever was
as the crow flies into the dust.

And I can't help
I have to leave you,
and I can't help
that I can't stay.
I'm like a child,
I'm like a child,
today,
today.

I'm going to miss you like a star
that's always in the sky but is too far
to just reach out across the space
time's as fast as it ever was
as the crow flies into the dust.

And I can't help
I have to leave you,
and I can't help
that I can't stay.
I'm like a child,
who doesn't know a damn thing.
I'm like a child
who stumbles on the way
to wherever he will be
tomorrow morning,
by the sea, or somewhere in the hills.
Life is harder all alone,
so I thank you with my love:
farewell, farewell.
Track Name: Sunlight, Sunlight
One uncorks another bottle
the other hand is free
and it's over with.
Common sense is overrated
the failures always scream,
but it's over when

sunlight, sunlight
pours over
the fields and criminals,
between the bones.

Owls at noon at conversation
at wing until the trees
whose leaves are red.
Groomed attire and dry ambition
a song where no one sings
we're as good as dead.

sunlight, sunlight
pours over
the fields and criminals,
between the sands.

Don't regret the time you've wasted
or all the thoughts you think.
They're walls of deep wells.
Night is dark but morning comes
to wash away the reek,
and it's bright as all hell.

sunlight, sunlight
pours over
and over,
between the lands,
and overhead.
Track Name: Joy and Gravity
Joy and gravity are holding on to me
with a strong arm and a long reach.
We defy them and the skies admit defeat
to the wide berth of the blue earth.

And the breath of that one verse
so deep and inspired
is what we mimic all our lives.

The ecstasy of separation,
of the openness of flux,
of freedom from the endless acts
the modern world constructs,

is impossible to feel forever
and difficult to keep,
it's but a flash of silent
stuttering consistency

The space between an exhalation
and a sharp intake of air
belies the point our paths move towards and
ever takes us there.

At release our lives will burn so quickly,
celluloid on a lamp.
The crackle of a quiet fission
emptiness at last.

The breath of this first verse,
so deep and inspired,
is what we mimic all our lives.

And the thread of time, regular and tight knit,
is an endless line, we are but points upon it.
If at last lying still, oh the dark surrounding,
there might be a light chill, maybe a tone is sounding
high...

Joy and gravity are together after all
in the high flight, in the long fall.