songs about roving, rambling and plain hard luck & photography from the other side …

but I swear, the land it listened to the stories that we told

And here we sit / Singing words nobody taught us / Drinking fire and spitting sawdust / Trying to teach ourselves to breathe / We haven’t yet / But every chorus brings us closer / Every flyer and every poster / Gives a piece of what we need / And the sand that they call cocaine cost you twice as much as gold / You’d be better off to drink your coffee black / But I swear, the land it listened to the stories that we told / God bless the busted boat that brings us back (Jason Isbell)

posted: Mai 19, 2014
under: black & white, hinterland, pictures
tags: , , , , , ,

6 Responses to “but I swear, the land it listened to the stories that we told”

  1. aptass sagt:

    Endless like the beauty of nature

  2. Ein perfekter Horizont, wie mit dem Lineal in der Bildmitte gezogen.
    Ein tolles Bild und eine willkommene Abkühlung bei den sommerlichen Temperaturen in diesen Tagen. Wunderbar!
    Viele Grüße von uns,
    dm und mb

  3. duke sagt:

    So soothing !
    A true breath I take great pleasure Florian.

  4. Uwe sagt:

    Zwei im Bild stillgestellte Unendlichkeiten treffen sich auf einer perfekten Horizontlinie und tauschen Geschichten aus, die wir, am Strand stehend und staunend, in jeder Welle auf uns zurollen sehen – und fühlen. Eine Einübung in Kontemplation!
    Gruß, Uwe

  5. Francis J sagt:

    The Baltic sea on a quiet day makes this picture a minimalist one. It could be the bay where I’m living that I look at every morning, just to check that its colours are always different. Here, Florian, the image is black and white and it’s one more way to make it minimalist.
    In front of the horizon line, it seems always easier to think about random things as well as „singing words nobody taught us“. „And here we sit“, my friend, „here we sit“ and „every chorus brings us closer“. Closer.

  6. ay, Fritsch, buddy – glorious minimalism evoking memories of summers past and making promises of summers to come.

    God bless those busted boatss, buddy!


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