Divided in Two - Wymond Miles

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Divided in Two Lyrics

When you close your eyes is there blood in your sleep,
or is there some honor you seek?
Your family was poor so now you're off to war,
your intentions bloom a noble spring.
So fervent you walk, you're fatigued by your thoughts,
there's poison in the words you sing.

Oh they crack your bones, you shake and you're torn-
Oh the spirit's been divided in two
Oh you ache as you break, child, for your own sake
you must do what they ask you to do.
Do not heed to the beckoning motion inside calling you.

The reasons of man change their shape as the sand.
Will your death bring honor to your dad?
You're possessed by the dark but their illusions are not
the blood that is flowing through you.
They entrenched their intent in their own discontent,
in their planes and their drones and their bombs.

Oh you're a soldier of war but you want so much more-
Oh the spirit's been divided in two.
Oh you ache as you break, child for your own sake
you must do what they want you to do.
Do not heed to the beckoning motion inside calling you.

When you close your eyes are you sleeping at night,
or is the wreckage of war haunting you?
There is blood on the reefs around your home and feet
You can't recognize your thought anymore.
Oh you're children asleep and your wife lays at peace
but that goddamn voice is waking you.

Did you shoot your gun? Are you your father's son?
Oh the spirit's been divided in two.
Just scream this out loud child, they'll hear your shout-
This was your war I'll fight it no more!
Won't you heed to the beckoning motion inside calling you?

Oh inside you, it's calling you
Come heed to the beckoning motion inside calling you.

Lyrics provided by LyricsEver.com
Four years ago Wymond Miles, guitar player and songwriter in San Francisco’s The Fresh & Onlys, began writing solo material thematically based on the concepts of eschatology, anthroposophy, and Gnostic and Hermetic symbolism. Drawing from a vast musical pool of inspiration, including Scott Walker, Robert Wyatt, Arvo Part, and Nikki Sudden amongst others, Earth Has Doors is Miles’ first solo release. Since beginning Miles had basically shelved these songs to attend school, focus on fatherhood, and commit to the demanding schedule of the F&O’s. He earned a degree in humanities with an emphasis on the philosophical implications of the ecological/economic crisis of our times, and that subject matter can be traced throughout his first EP. These songs concisely yet esoterically document the existential crisis of our current epoch — moving from the nothingness of modern materialism, fragmented reductionist thought, and drug escapism to a world imbued with subjectivity and meaning through a new relationship with the Earth and cosmos as alive and full of inherent intelligence.

Wymond describes his early writing process: “For the first time I had a sense of place, and a reverence of humility for my surroundings. I was full of wonder, but I felt very small, and went inward to begin the work of writing.” He elaborates, “Sonically the mood had to reflect the somberness of moving between the existential chaos of my twenties into this new perspective of living … The mysterious hues of the soundscape reflect a sense of curiosity and possibility in the canyons of sound.” Working in his home studio and using 8-track tape (the infamous Tascam 388), Miles performs almost everything on this record: guitars, synths, bass, drums, manipulated tape delay, and vocals. A few friends played with him, guesting on drums (“Hidden Things” and “Earth Has Doors”) and viola (“As the Orchard”), while his wife Sarah sings some harmonies on side A.

Cut Yourself Free assembles another convergence of moonlit romantic swagger and post-punk massacred urgency. Again self recorded and produced to tape, Miles’ song-craft has emerged more refined and poignant, benefitting from the avalanche of his frenzied live shows, but also adhering to a more minimalistic fashion with crooning mid-era Nick Cave or Bowie/Roxy Music strains of pop-modernism. But what stands at the forefront is Miles’ command of his textural guitar and vintage-synth sprawl that on his choosing can open dream-like vistas, or pierce with an engine’s snarl. Turning to the narrative, Miles weaves each song with its own vignette of story line, often with a vaguely obscured protagonist/antagonist dialog. Relationships in Miles’ sketches are always tangled, if not licentious affairs, but are presented more as lustrous gateways to mend and revitalize rather than squalor in. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.

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Wymond Miles