Nightingale

by Anniversaire

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credits

released 07 January 2011

All music written and arranged by Anniversaire
Lyrics by Aaron Jordan
Anniversaire is:
Aaron Jordan – piano, Rhodes, celeste, trombone, vocals
Megan Siebe – cello, vocals
Benjamin Eberly – percussion
Travis Ahrenholtz – bass, auxiliary percussion, celeste, glockenspiel, vocals, vibraphone
Produced by Anniversaire
Recorded by Luke Mabie at Arc Studios in Omaha, Nebraska
Mixed by Jason Burkum at The Green Room in Omaha, Nebraska
Mastered by Doug Van Sloun at Focus Mastering in Omaha, Nebraska
Additional musicians:
Jessica Kellner: violin on Measure for Measure, In a Field of White…
Kacie Burkum: vocals on Seeds & Thieves
St. Cecilia Choir: Anniversaire, Kacie Burkum and Michael Childers
Painting by Walker Plank

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Anniversaire Omaha, Nebraska

"Anniversaire has a bright future by writing artistic pop music, colored by disparate pieces including orchestral music, Death Cab For Cutie-style hushed indie pop and moody early 2000's Brit-pop." - The Reader

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Track Name: Cecilia, You Saint
You said you miss having dreams.
It’s getting expensive to sleep.
Drugged out or filling the frame,
your mind takes you places you hate.

Outlines, shapes in the spheres;
hours are seconds to hear
metal cast in our years;
powerless to engineers.

Cold, freeze in the heat,
fountains of ink could never explain
these colorless hues;
amethyst fumes choke out the haze.

Haven’t we been here before?
Chemical weather from your
century spent with machines;
limitless discovery!

Clockwork, wind in the leaves;
metal forged under the sea.
Brave, speak, whisper to me,
“I don’t think we should believe...”

No, we should stay here, we pioneers, with feet in the ground.
Oh, we should then sing,
hymns of the sea,
with ash in our mouths.
Yes, we should stay here,
orphaned frontiers
will bloom in our hands.
Hey, withering fields
listen and yield a harvest from sand.

Come love, and leave all our things behind.
Nothing we do makes sense at the time.
Down in the dirt we will lay our heads;
down in that flowerless flower-bed.
‘Cause we’re already, already, already, already dead.
Track Name: Every Line of Your Hand
There’s a moment,
it haunts like a verse,
of a sonnet yet to be heard
from your sweet voice.

Every line of your hand was a way,
I could follow,
right with the rain
into your skin.

I want to take you apart
you are a lost work of art
that I’ve just found.

Let all the measurable things
be cursed and cast in the sea,
to sink and drown.

‘Cause we don’t need to remember
how every day of December killed us,
how every crack made us colder,
how every hour made us old
and nameless.

Don’t turn away now;
don’t run away now.
It’s easy to do.

Don’t dread the headwinds,
they sweep this way to cleanse;
to make us new.

Come back to me
when you are where you need to be.
Track Name: F. Sonata
Dear, you’ve gone for now.
I’m left up here
with songs and photographs;
magic souvenirs.

There the chandeliers
go dark for you.
Patrons in their best;
entrances on cue.

But does it all make nothing of us?

‘Cause here the curtains close
on you, you see.
Roses on the floor;
cheers from only me.

Views are fine indeed
from balconies,
but wouldn’t it be grand
if we were Old Paris?

Les lumières sont lumineuses quand personne n'est autour.

I will not forget
that moonlit flight
to our castle in the air.
Track Name: In a Field of White...
The colder it gets
it’s sure to hypnotize;
sure to cover all of us
with dark, unflinching night.

When thoughts of the grave
churn and come alive,
don’t forget to quiet down
and hum yourself to sleep.

And then recall what you said,
“Beauty is what we receive
from the barren creek bed,
and branches that fall from the trees.”

When you awake,
while you’re lying there
with your windows frozen shut;
they’re hard (those dreams) to shake.

But we can take them and mix
in some violet where
there was only iron-grey.
And watch them flower into,

all the blushing of May;
naked and birthed in the rain.
And when the swelling allays,
be cast into soil again.
Track Name: Seeds & Thieves
I know the feeling.
It comes to me too,
with all the sway and tilt of ships,
jarred and anchor-less.
You want the frame focused,
you clutch the trembling lens,
and hold your breath
to find that nothing seems as it is.

So we progress,
if at a crawl,
and the clocks, well they’re chiming on;
mechanical laughter.

You wrote a song that could
make the orchids bloom.
But what’s the point,
when all you wanted was God to prove,

that they are more than seeds,
that we are more than thieves,
and this acyclic birth
is more than just chemistry?

But we are met
with the hollow ring
of that massive white noise sea.
The static. The sinless.

Counting machines
are choking down
pendulum swings;
ceaselessly asking,

“How can we be so removed?”
Track Name: Tele-visions
Where have you been?
Was it one thing, when you wanted two?
No, you said it best,
“Let the water cleanse and cover you.”

‘Cause in between every wire and screen,
the images come through;
the monochrome,
that we’ve known as home,
has split to red, green and blue.

Where did I go,
that you move in code and foreign turns?
The buildings arranged
with the cracks
and made our lines converge.

So we asked the night,
“Could you please provide?”
And she carved out brand new stairs.

Up we went,
weaponry in hand,
and we fired every prayer we had.

But is it enough, is it enough, is it?

Tell me (slowly now)
do you think we are getting through?
Our mouths have gone dry,
but maybe it’s all we can do.

So heat up some tea,
let it spread with speed
through every bone.

And turn down the bed,
singing to forget
the months alone,

with all of these
dark, fragmented scenes
that swirl inside your brain.

And we will dream
of the fever tree
to cool our lips with leaves and rain.

But is it enough, is it enough is it?

Tell me (quickly now!) do you think we are getting through?
Our tongues have unfurled
and proudly they calcimined fly.

From your single-bed,
twisted sheets and alarm clock red.
You’ve been here before,
but now it seems all that exists.
Track Name: Gossamer
With a kiss,
champagne,
wit,
she was all violins;
and a few hours older.

Northern belle.
Beauty started her war.
Say farewell to fairy tales,

the sins of men have hollowed out.
But in the rain,
she walks with her heart set.

One by one they fall asleep.
So unaware,
she walks with her heart set;
her will set.

Soon enough they’ll all regret
the neon glow of her gossamer nights.
Track Name: Deep Pocket Ocean
You fingered quickly
on the window wet,
“Don’t cave in and don’t you dare forget.”
You thought that best,
‘cause you could wipe it all away.

And in your busy brain you often felt
that you were enveloped by the sea.
The trouble seems, to me,
that that’s just what you need;

a chance to fit
the Atlantic deep in your pockets,
where no one can dry you out.

You used to drive a lot,
alone at night,
and head up north,
away from sickening light,
from shallow sky,
to watch the houses all go dark.

But now the city lines are farther out
and you can’t escape
the maddening, speeding sprawl.
You can’t move on
to somewhere a little less severe.

You and I have compromised;
that burn in our throats is our own fault.
But we are not some ruined clocks,
no we move with exacting precision;
never too slow.
Track Name: Kid Scientists
A numbered language
and a leveled lens,
aimed at the dark heavens,
were meant to send
the points of white and yellow light
into a spin.

I was too young to tell
the world was well along.

And while the children sing
of wisdom seen
throughout the history
of crook and king,
we’ll pour the wine
and plan to try and do the same.

I will never keep you out.
I’ll never let this cold house
keep you down.

This foolish enterprise
should come as no surprise to you,
we’ve filled these halls
with our darkened thoughts.

And all we’ll ever need
is courage to come clean again,
just like the state of the elements.

And heaven knows
just how this hell can grow,
like a single-cell,
it leaves us reaching
for the nearest switch to turn.

And we can curse the light,
or move with time for once.
Track Name: Measure for Measure
Is there a reason
we’re all nerves and angled?
Your pose and posture
a worn courier,
say we were once a tree
all roots and tangles;
and now we hunt for seeds
like winter birds.

Let’s take from this
what we must take from this,
and close your eyes,
(they’ve bared enough for now)
I know that you have been afraid, you’re scared
that this might not be nearly
as beautiful as you had hoped,
but don’t be scared
if we are here alone.
The snow still falls,
and we still have a home.

You bend and curve your frame
much sooner lately.
Is it to cry yourself to sleep?
Or pray?
If I could be the mender I’d be at sea,
gathering the wind, the whales and waves,

to take apart what we must take apart,
to get you well,
(you’re needed desperately)
The stars, the crests,
are spiraling.
We won’t explode.
We won’t burst open wide,
(open wide to windward side!)
and we will hide,
and measure out our grain.
We must survive.
We must stay alive.
Track Name: Luscinia
You went missing,
turned to grey.
Left in downpour,
left to stay.
Conjured city in my memory.
Architecture vanishing.
Warping features.
All these strangers moving backward.
Children’s voices,
echoed in the old cathedral.
Was it for you?