Jimmy Gibson

Songwriter / Filmmaker / Journalist

Hide Yourself (Sunday)

Sounds and signals, speaking soft, not quite right

Flying by, evergreen stars, black as night

On the wings, in the thoughts, of a poem recite

Hide yourself, to yourself, it’s a fiery sight


Looking up, constellations, like vigils of stars

Deathly quiet, gravely still, we wait in our cars

Streets and markets, heard it in the closing of bars

Hide yourself, to yourself, it can’t be that far


Sunday trails off

Like voices, haunted and new

Sunday trails off

Like you just couldn’t do


Fall in love, fall apart, memory ties fate

In hotel rooms, out with lights, it’s getting too late

Strings and sirens, wings and wires, rusted down plates

Hide yourself, to yourself, meet me at the gate


Sunday trails off

Like voices, born again new

Sunday trails off

Like you just couldn’t do


Down the street, past the traffic, staring down lights

Open doors, pouring out, scared of the heights

Strain to see, pain that he, would hide in the white

Hide yourself, to yourself, it’s a sobering sight


Sunday trails off

Like clouds, movingly true

Sunday trails off

Like the plants, covered in dew

Sunday trails off

If only, you knew

Sunday trails off

Like you just couldn’t do

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Check it out on Bandcamp