The army’s come to town,
Their tanks are all around,
They’re in position.
They won’t tell the Press,
Much to its distress,
About their mission.
Meanwhile the fence posts shift
And the sidewalks lift,
The roads are cracking.
Far beneath our feet
There’s a mighty beat.
It’s time for packing.
We’re not waiting for,
We’re not waiting for,
What’s emerging.
Saw him on TV,
It was plain to see
His power was frozen.
While the pundits screech
And the preachers preach
About The Chosen.
And in the blogosphere
There’s a viral fear
And markets tumble.
And in the secret shrines
It’s the end of time
And prayers are mumbled.
They’re all waiting for,
They’re all waiting for,
What’s emerging.
The beating of its heart
Will tear the land apart
The planet’s shaking.
At the mountain’s root
There’s a growing shoot
And something’s waking.
We’re all waiting for
We’re all waiting for
What’s emerging.
With their blend of playfulness and graduate-level instrumentation, Dorcha deftly prove that improvisational zeal and conservatory-level precision aren't mutually exclusive. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 16, 2020
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