for nothing holds you in

by a microscope

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credits

released November 30, 2014

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about

a microscope New York, New York

Kris Wettstein writes and performs spare pop songs that draw on his background in classical piano, Christian hymnody, gospel, and West African music.

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Track Name: capsule in space (feat. Grey McMurray)
I want you to know
'vanishing act'
Lou Reed at glass speed

I've also enclosed Feldman's last notes
a hymn
and 'heart food'

in my capsule in space
my capsule in space
my Lord

I want you to know that I'm afraid to sing you this song
but need you to know my shaking voice
weathered and worn by other
love songs

in Your wide plane of stars
Your wide plane of stars
my Love

drifting in Your wide plane of stars
Your wide plane of stars
my Lord

look after me

in my capsule
my capsule
Track Name: under the overpass
under the overpass
sounds shimmy
and say:
away, away, away, away, away, away... come away

under the overpass
beams buckle and sway
convey, convey, convey, convey, convey, convey... where you're going

come away...
come away...
come my way

under the waterfall
the birdcall
disrobes
forget, forget, forget, forget, forget, forget... where you where

oh... oh... oh... oh...

for nothing holds you in
so spill out of the concrete mold that holds you
holds you in
and float away

for nothing holds you in
so spill out of the concrete mold that holds you
oh, oh, oh
holds you in

for nothing holds you in
so spill out of the concrete mold that holds you
oh, oh, oh
holds you in

for nothing holds you in
so spill out of the concrete mold that holds you
holds you in
and float away

forget where you are going get where you are oh
Track Name: lizard hands (feat. Dan Sedwick, Marji Gere)
altocumulus in wildfire
and banks of snow
there's a castle at the day's end
where the sun goes

lift your withered hands
lift your lizard hands
to show
that you hold nothing, you hold nothing
then let it go

an abandoned beach in Florida
the sickly coast
water lapping by the highway
in constant rush

lift your muzzled ears
lift your seagull's head, exult
that at the day's end
the horizon was built
with
holy hands