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lyrics

Let's congregate under this steeple
Assembled over the continuity of form
Another weekly tryst,
A strange nexus of sorts

But from my third floor tenement
When rain drums the streetcars
and sidewalks, fills the gullies
I sit and contemplate our fate

Who are you, sleeping
On the couch below?
A sister, a mother, a lover?
Every woman rolled into one?

There is comfort in this blurry window,
This warm hand,
The slow rotation of our sphere
On its own tiny self

credits

from Everything Changes, released April 10, 2012

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Harvest Breed Sherbrooke, Québec

Movies without pictures.

That's what Harvest Breed's songs are.

"Quebec's answer to Wilco"
-Voir

"**** Harvest Breed sounds like a classic band in the making"
-HOUR
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