The wind calls a/my name through the trees
Black birds flutter confused
Footsteps rushing through the leaves
Accuse me, the dirt’s on my shoes
The elephant in the room is stepping on my toes
The moon is a searchlight tonight
It’s not like I had any plans
I guess it’s easier to see in the light
That the blood’s on my hands
The snake in the grass is riding my coattails
Wearing that dead woman’s heels
They’re small shoes for this frame
Step by step I’ll learn to feel
Truth that puts this devil to shame
The hand that feeds me has a bitter taste
It’s all coming into focus
Yet, I’m still consumed
I couldn’t see with all that closeness
That I put salt in my wound
I am the elephant, I am the snake
I am the hand that feeds and I’m bleeding me
I am the snake
Inspired by life in lockdown, Fuzzy Jones's new astral folk EP is sobering but playful, girded with expansive production and ample wit. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 18, 2020
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 11, 2023