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THE WIRE SONG

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The Wire song is our first studio-live-recording. Its lyrics were originally inspired by the story of mine-workers close to a war frontline, going down the shaft with the elevator every day, not knowing if they will come back up and if so, to what.

As we worked on it, the song became a poem of endurance and of trusting in the spirits of past and presence to accompany us in the darkest hours.

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Composer: Rahel Nahely

Lyrics by Julian M. Grünthal 2022 

Performed by: Rahel Nahely (Vocals & Piano), Anat Porat (Vocals & Guitar), Rolf Caflisch (Drums), Rees Coray (Base)

Recorded and mixed by Manfred Zazzi, Aquarium Studios Zurich

Cover art: Astrid Gutmann

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Down down down

into the coalmine of our souls

the wire sings its song of steel

into the narrow dusty hole.

 

Down down down

into the womb of blackened stones

the forests still alive in our hearts

their roots will tickle our bones.

 

Down down down

to our friends and our kin

with open arms of sweat and dirt

we’re holding hands, we sing.

 

And as the lights go dim

the spirits of the canary birds

rise up from deep within

lending their wings to our words.

 

As we keep singing -

and with fear, and with rage

and with love and with hope

we age.

 

While far above

some primitive god

is playing the drums

on our homes.

Making brick into rubble

and our souls into stones 

and fire.

May the wire 

survive

to take us back up.

 

And the coal becomes a tree

and the dead birds fly free

and we return from below

yet to what - we don’t know.

 

But if the wire survives

it will take us

back up.

 

Oh, may the wire 

survive

to take us back up.

 

 

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A MOTHER

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A mother is an intimate goodbye to a mother who passed over that river after a long disease.

___________________

Composer: Rahel Nahely

Lyrics by Julian M. Grünthal 2022 

Performed by: Rahel Nahely (Vocals & Piano), Anat Porat (Vocals), Rolf Caflisch (Drums), Rees Coray (Base), Monica Tarcay (Violin)

Recorded and mixed by Manfred Zazzi, Aquarium Studios Zurich

__________________

Your head so cold
your hands so old
Your eyes are almost shut
I wonder if the smile you smile is your’s
and where you’re at.

A brother and a brother
help each other
tie the bandage ‘round your head
to close your mouth - it looks less dead.

Your belly’s gone
your breasts are gone

morphine embraced your pain.

I wonder if the smile you smile is your’s

and what is staying?

A sister and a father
hold each other
put the scarf around your neck
the one you liked - it looks less dead.

Your cheekbones strong
your cheeks all gone
your pupils melting in your eyes.
I chose to know the smile you smile is your’s.
My choice is wise.

A grandson and his mother
and the grandson’s father
come to stand there by your bed.

This is grandma -very good you met.

Some wood,

a mother

and a watch

become a tiny pile of ash,
still warm,

still her
the one who read me to my sleep.

And as we spread her ‘round that tree

that tiny pile of ash
I wonder

what’s the kind of flame
that can burn a watch.

 

 

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