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This song came to me, oddly enough, as I was ambling down Martin Place to forage for some lunch, a few weeks back. Strange how these things work. Or it could just be my funny brain…

Nonetheless, this is one of those lovely songs that’s not very song-like. It’s a dreamy space “skyscape” with so much room in which to think and drench yourself, you may feel like floating. Or tripping out. Up to you.

I couldn’t help but feel the vibe of this one spoke of mystery, and of wondering about death, that blasted blaggard of certainty. It’s so easy to dismiss the question of why, oh why, we are here; and much harder to wrestle the bastard to the ground.

This song won’t arrive at either end, but it’s a sort of pondering on the puzzle, or maybe the simplicity – “there is no reason and who says there should be” – of being around this funny old spinning orb.

And there are so few lyrics that I thought I’d put them straight out to you, for once. And so:

—
Echoes out of the sky, we came
Rambled over the hills and plains
We couldn’t look at the stars and never wonder why.

Daughter, prepare the earth for us
Crashing from life to what comes next
Leave all your tears, for the end makes even all our souls.
—

And thus, bewitch your ears into questions fey.