Head of the Lake
Lyrics by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson*
Music by Nick Ferrio, Jonas Bonnetta, Ansley Simpson
In a basement full of plastic flowers,
Pierogis, cabbage rolls.
At the head of the lake, thinking under accusation.
At the mouth of the catastrophic river,
Disappearing our kids.
At the foot of the nest
Beside trailer hitches, coffee, spoons.
We made a circle
And it helped.
The smoke did the things we couldn’t.
Singing broke open hearts,
I hold your hand
Without touching it.
We’re in the thinking part of the lake.
Faith under accusation
At the mouth of the river.
And the spectre of the free
At the foot of Animikig**
Beside bones of stone and red silver
In a basement full of increasing entropy,
Moose ribs, wild rice.
(We made a circle)
We made a circle (We made a circle)
And it helped (And it helped)
The smoke did the things we couldn’t (The smoke did the things we could not)
Singing broke open hearts
I hold your hand without touching it (I hold your hand without touching it)
(Without touching it)
(Without touching it)
Pierogis, cabbage rolls.
At the head of the lake, thinking under accusation.
At the mouth of the catastrophic river,
Disappearing our kids.
At the foot of the nest
Beside trailer hitches, coffee, spoons.
We made a circle
And it helped.
The smoke did the things we couldn’t.
Singing broke open hearts,
I hold your hand
Without touching it.
We’re in the thinking part of the lake.
Faith under accusation
At the mouth of the river.
And the spectre of the free
At the foot of Animikig**
Beside bones of stone and red silver
In a basement full of increasing entropy,
Moose ribs, wild rice.
(We made a circle)
We made a circle (We made a circle)
And it helped (And it helped)
The smoke did the things we couldn’t (The smoke did the things we could not)
Singing broke open hearts
I hold your hand without touching it (I hold your hand without touching it)
(Without touching it)
(Without touching it)
At the foot of Animikig
Beside bones of stone and red silver
In a basement full of increasing entropy
Moose ribs, wild rice.
In realization
We don’t exist without each other.
She says: there’s nothing about you
I’m not willing to know.
CHORUS
Beside bones of stone and red silver
In a basement full of increasing entropy
Moose ribs, wild rice.
In realization
We don’t exist without each other.
She says: there’s nothing about you
I’m not willing to know.
CHORUS
* Leanne Betasamosake Simpson é uma artista, escritora e música canadense de origem indígena Anishinaabe, um grupo de povos originários do centro-sul do Canadá e centro-norte dos Estados Unidos.
**Na mitologia indígena dos Anishinaabe os Animikig (pássaro trovão) são entidades sobrenaturais gigantescas que podem fazer chuva, vento e relâmpagos com as asas e os olhos.
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