From the 7GS album: “Eightfold” 💿 Lyrics: There are things the body remembers… Before the mind, knows their names… A chair. A hallway, A voice, from another room. The sound of somebody, comin’ home… My grandma, was an anchor. my rock, beneath the floor. Then one day, the ground kept turnin’. and couldn’t hold, anymore. I remember, bein’ rootless. walkin‘ around, with foreign eyes, poor aim; where once, there was north. Learnin‘, grief has changin’ tides… She said she wanted to clean, next summer. I believed, there would be a next. September held a sentence, quietly: “I witness, Your independence.” I didn’t know a goodbye, could hide, inside an ordinary day… What remains, has weight. What remains, has hands. A life can leave the room, and still, rearrange our plans. What remains, is not a ghost; not proof, that time, stood still. It is love, with nowhere physical, to go; and somewhere living, that it will… michael, still, lives. in smaller places: A song, I hear…. In things, I almost say… In an unfinished sentence, that refuses… to, decay. In Calls. Shared routines. The mundane, made holy. because I know, now; how small, time, can seem… when you’re standing, inside, it. After Grandma, and michael, somethin’ changed, in, me… Risk, learned another language. And, Ease; became harder to keep… I had a thought once: if I disappeared, would anybody, know; how much had gathered, here? I won’t manufacture, an answer. And I, won’t dress up, the hurt. I’ll keep the room. the weather. The record. Of what happened, afterward… and let the evidence, speak; enough. Because grief, isn’t one, clean, feeling. It keeps slamming. washing over, like a cold, ocean wave… And if memory, is more than storage; if remembering, is a relationship; then, losing touch is not the same as, losing. love… You were here. I, witnessed. you. I honor, the passing. I let the road, continue. I, release you. I, release you. I, release you. I, release you. without ceasing, to love you. Oh-oh-oh-oh. Oh-oh-oh-oh. Mmm, mmm… What remains, has weight. What remains, has, names. Grandma... michael... Childhood. Christmas. There is, Drivin‘ through the dark. There’s A, voice, on a, recording. I barely remember… making. What remains, has weight! What remains, has hands. What remains, has, names. What remains, Are… Plans… So I will carry it, plain. Not to keep the dead, from leaving— to keep the love, from bein‘… erased. You were here. I witnessed you. And that matters. Oh, oh, we. matter…
