Whittled Thrones EP

by Autumn Burnett

supported by
James Vitz-Wong
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James Vitz-Wong Autumn and I were in the same electroacoustic class. She's really cool, but you don't have to take my word for it. Favorite track: The Wind and the Window.
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about

Whittled Thrones is a homespun collection of ruminative musicality and poignant lyricism that Autumn recorded in January of 2012. Disillusioned with the structured feeling of her classical studies, this was Autumn's first effort to branch away from the way she was used to thinking about music. Whittled Thrones is a hauntingly meditative work about the separation of loved ones and the coinciding psychological separation of self.

"Vivid poetry underscored by gentle acoustic guitars, shimmering strings, and beautiful singing. Whittled Thrones overflows with peaceful melancholy and eloquent defiance." - Daniel Fields

"Tinged with viola, guitar, and her naturally lovely voice, Autumn's songs are folky and hauntingly beautiful." - Siena Castañares

credits

released January 26, 2012

Cover art by Autumn Burnett
Published by Blue Selkie Publishing

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about

Autumn Burnett

Autumn Burnett is a songwriter, guitarist and violist from Lake Tahoe and Reno, Nevada. She studied songwriting at Oberlin College and Conservatory and currently lives in Asheville, North Carolina.

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Track Name: Ms. Martyr
I found a place beneath the willow tree,
the Earth opened up and swallowed me.
I walked the dark and dirty streets that run underground,
Where I found a recluse who was dying to be found.

Her eyes were lost, her head was crossed on finding a way out,
She plucked the guitar on her knee but ceased to make a sound.
A father's grave a hungry cave taught her to be tall,
But on the ice that splits the knee, she must learn to crawl.

Hello, Ms. Martyr, why are you still down here?
You better get your lungs back into Northeastern air.
Frozen streets and inner beasts will open up your veins,
So please be free and forgive me for cutting these rusty chains.

Hello, my mirror, you look a lot like me.
Could it be we're both roots to the very same old tree?
Let's go run where oxygen is a crimson shade of blue,
Let's go run, cause you are me and I am you.

Goodnight, my savior, it's time for you to leave.
Thank you for making these young bones breathe.
It's time that this weathered mind put itself to use,
Ignore the marks on my skin, it's only a bruise.

I left my body, I don't drown as much these days.
My Martyr keeps me save above the ocean waves.
Be and brood the man that you wished that you could be,
And close wide eye, but don't ask why there are scars on your feet.
Track Name: Why Would We Want To
I want to wake to hungry skies,
Telephone wires and you on my mind.
There are days when your shoulder blades
Could cut through stones of time.

I am spent with my fleeting ways,
beg me to, beg me to stay.
Quit burning down cities with your mind,
and stop tapping toes to non-existent time.

But I could part oceans of ice,
And you could make a prophet go blind.
We could make the trees tell lies,
But why the hell would we want to?

Oh dusty road, carry my home
You'll never know the places I've gone.
Oh cold space, I am alone,
Empty old faces are made of chrome.

But I could part oceans of ice,
And you could make a prophet go blind.
We could make the trees tell lies,
But why the hell would we want to?

Oh snowy mountain, swallow me whole,
I want to die where people don't speak anymore.
Oh blue water, cover my soul,
I want to live where life is impossible.

But I could part oceans of ice,
And you could make a prophet go blind.
We could make the trees tell lies,
But why the hell would we want to?
Track Name: The Wind and the Window
We are aspen's daughters
They are alder's sons
Bark, it shows the ages
We've been here too long.

We are lovers waiting,
They are pilot's lost.
We write tales and stories
Of the monster's we've become.

We are soldiers of ephemeral stature
We are sailors of tenuous waters
We rode across an infinite skyline
We found cold lust in in the big city highlife.

I found warmth for the first time in you,
But i lost my mind in rhythm and blues.
Like the air bends the wheat of gold, oh he moved me,
But I will not think of how he could have loved me.

The boy fell out the window,
Lost his grip on dice.
He was caught by a saviour,
Who had already fallen twice.

The wind will catch your body,
Should you be bound to fall.
But her hands are full of people,
She can't catch us all.

I tip my glass to the wind and the window
The fall it is far, but the ground it is hollow.
Wind and Windows.
Track Name: Leave My War Alone
There's a man in a suit in my living room,
I wonder if he wants to stay.
He says, "this light is nice, do you feel alive
when you play your woe away."
But little did I guess that underneath his theatre vest,
He would have a knife waiting for me.
On that night in February, I became a missionary to his customary tainted deeds.

Well the sheep I'm counting aint got no wool,
Devil in my head aint a fool,
Why can't we leave behind the hands of those who die,
You better leave my war alone.

There's a light at the end of my blue road,
You snuffed it out and glanced behind.
You left me blind, paralyzed and refined,
I've never been so alive.
Then you took the fork in this war-torn road
And ate your sanguine pie.
You'd come around when you had the time,
I aint your porcelain mime.

Well the sheep I'm counting aint got no wool,
Devil in my head aint a fool,
Why can't we leave behind the hands of those who die,
You better leave my war alone.

Give me alabaster capture, morning after rapture,
Without the visage of an actor.
Give me guitar-dusted serenades without golden renegades
And my heart on a harlequin platter.
Leave intentions of lines to say,
And players to play away,
In the body of a Portuguese letter.
Since your last escapade, I have now learned to stay on grounds where my feet can be faster.

Well the sheep I'm counting aint got no wool,
Devil in my head aint a fool,
Why can't we leave behind the hands of those who die,
You better leave my war alone.
Track Name: Whittled Thrones
Brother of mine, you would have loved it here tonight.
There was whiskey and wine and music and mountains of time,
Time to build a bridge and head on back
To days when all your roads were clean

Darling don't you wonder why diaphanous eyes haunt your sleep?
They aren't cynics run dry, but angels born from the sea.
They are someone watching over you,
And their waters will soak you through

Don't tie your strings to a puppeteer you don't know
He's got a mind of paper and hands of oil and woe
He will rip apart your golden seams
When he finds out where you've been

And I believe the pastures of heaven are green,
And one day we'll make it up north, just you and me
We will build a castle out of stone
And carve love into our whittled thrones
Build a castle out of stone
And carve love into our whittled thrones

I'm afraid of wolves of chrome
I have seen them burn your whittled throne
I will learn that blight is not won
I'll find grace in the window's setting sun