Growin' Seed

by Jacob Bullard

Growin' Seed cover art
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1.
05:24
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2.
02:25
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3.
05:05
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credits

released 10 December 2011
Recorded in Holland, Michigan by Grant Floering with help from Ben Oegema and Josh Banner. Produced & mixed by Grant Floering and Jacob Bullard. Mastered by Chad Wahlbrink (www.chadwahlbrink.com).

All songs written and performed by Jacob Bullard. Vocals performed by Jacob Bullard and Laura Hobson, drums & percussion preformed by Grant Floering, keys by Larry Figueroa, guitars by Jacob Bullard.

Art direction, Jacob Bullard. Design, Ben Biondo (www.benbiondo.com). Photo, Chris Cox (www.chriscoxphotographer.com).

So much thankfulness: these songs are dedicated to Josh Banner, Dimnent Chapel, and the friends and memories at Hope College 2007-2011.

… ∆ … 

vimeo.com/30933482

tags

tags: americana folk indie folk Michigan

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Track Name: Leah
There was a time when you carried my name like water, clear and cupped in your hands. On your tongue, it moved with a sweetness like the moon or your hair on your ears. On the wind I would catch the smell of the kind of scent that was all in your clothes. I hung on close to every word that you spoke. You never sang, but they were music the same.

And you became something like a white-tailed rabbit that I had scared by some misfortune step, and I was foolish to chase you into that darkness and tell you words that you didn't want to hear.

Your skin was soft and honey smooth, your hair long and you hardly washed it: dark, silk, it ran onto your shoulders and framed your neckline. Like the curtains in your window or two books on a wooden desk or the boots that traveled halfway up to your even knees.

Well, I know that you remember when I came to visit you in New York or just your room, to sit cross-legged like a child. I believed in everything and you never trusted me. I was like a song too long and you were like a broken wing.
Track Name: Queen Anne's Lace
Morning catcher, your linen dress on. Dark eye glimmer holds dreams that you saw - those midnight visions you don't understand. Your soft legs brushing on some sand colored grass. And you are a growing seed. Down deep in my brain. How could I not begin to see your fingers and roots inside of me? I'm circling around your face, your name like a sun. Your cream colored dance on the wind, I'm following you at every step. To catch a glimpse of your lace - it drew me to you. I placed you on a window sill expecting you to never wilt. Your beauty is real, that is true, but you're more than that. Morning catcher, your summer dress on.
Track Name: Orchard Hills
Your mom would go to work just as I was leaving, some time after three o'clock most nights. With high beams on the road, I'd drive home on the same hills I stare at now half covered in my sheets.

the June warmth in your ancient stone-front farmhouse made the sinks slowly start to sweat. The way my arms do now, their glistening in the square of moonlight painted on the middle of my bed.

There is a song I hear on Orchard Hills. It seems a sound of saints and angles dancing on holy ground - their bodies new and topped with golden crowns dancing for the Lord of Lords.

I can hear it out my window far away it's strong and riding on a wind of peace and wholeness, I can hear a sound.

I smelled the rain and thought of your old kitchen, the way it smelled when you were cleaning clothes. I rarely think of you, but when I do it's stranger than your dog that only had one eye.