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51 second clip
Copyright 2002 Robert J Powell |
CD: The Bridge
Credits: Composed, performed, produced and engineered by Robert J Powell. Recorded at The Drifting Machine Room. Additional mixing and mastering by Jim Curtis at Omega Studios, Rockville, MD. |
Lyrics
We'd laugh at the misfortunes of others. I mean my mother, my little brothers and I would. We made little effort to stop them, for we hoped in secret they would attempt to traverse it. No one gives a second thought to the bridge and the stream that flows underneath as they speed over it sin expensive automobiles.
It’s always dark. A sloping, ancient Indian trail thrust into a civilization that knows not the horse or the moccasin is the road that, at its nadir, spans the creek. The bridge dips down at its center; the pavement eroded perhaps. Guardrails are merely a gesture.
Dark water rushes. Branches and leaves lay littered upon the earth, casualties of heaven's primal violence. On those wet, green days we took a detour to witness the drama unfolding at the bridge. We would delight in the misfortunes of others, never knowing what was to become of us.
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