Get all 13 Nalani Proctor releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of It's Too Late, Vasalisa, Voorhees, you were right, hold my hand, Green is the Grass, what's happening?, They Say I Look and Sound Like Joan Baez, But Do I Really?, Nothing, and 5 more.
1. |
the master, the thin
03:32
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Trembling in the wind, the seed is floating towards
the master, the thin, the crack-ed pedestals
while it’s hoping for grace, the cackle, the grackle
sings its disappointment
In a fold it delays, leaving a tuft of its polymer glaze
reaching for once, to capacities edge
hoping for grace, of the interim’s face
you were right, hold my
you were right, hold my hand
Doubling in it’s size,
the petals reveal starry dew covered eyes,
unblinking until I
slowly lower my gaze, in a show of respect
for this beautiful space
you were right, hold my
you were right, hold my hand
And the peaks covered, cloudy
listening to the sounds
of what Plath and Miyazaki say
Bolstering the disheartened
averaging the days
playing sugar and spice
girls, we’ll never be nice
you were right, hold my
you were right, hold my hand
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2. |
the woods
04:28
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I reach out to grasp it, the fruit on the tree
how it hangs delicately, as if just for me
but I know, that the berries, will poison me,
but I dream of the fragrance, as I gnash my teeth ripping red, and purple, the juice keeps me fed in the woods
I rub my face gently, upon the green grass
feel the chlorophyl fill me, in a temperatured bath
and I know that the grass will wither and pass
and I love how the autumn colors, wrap me in swaddling clothes
of the night, dreams are coming
to the woods, to the woods
Stretching out my phalanges, the wind catches fire lifting me towards nā lāni, drifting head over heel
As the birds, sing so sweetly, the mourning rites ring and their feathers as offering, to bring back the dead and a little bud flowers, under the soot of the vernal in the woods, in the woods
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3. |
the valley
04:55
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A simple task, to leave behind
a life we’ve made, a future holds, the hope
to conquer the land before your heart
the wild woman belongs to you
the wild woman is within you
With one brush fire, the wires cut
the land now charred to start anew
and out of ash, comes rushing through
the wild woman belongs to you
the wild woman is within you
ooo
Freely falling, smile pasted wide
as hard as concrete angels fly
and waiting for the impact, hoping downy feathers will
break the fall, break the fall
The rugged land yields its fruit
upon the eve of the festival route
it’s twinkling lights bringing you into the fray
as nightly dreams, of home simmer and sway
The wild woman belongs to
Freely falling, smile pasted wide
as hard as concrete angels fly
and waiting for the impact, hoping downy feathers will
break the fall, break the fall
but the earth is hard
with her lava jutting into ribbons
and scars only glow brighter
as you tangle up your paper mache wings
you thought were stone, you thought were stone
Freely falling, smile pasted wide
as hard as concrete angels fly
and waiting for the impact, hoping downy feathers will
break the fall, break the fall
back you go, to land anew
with another idea of what’s happening to you
and you keep pressing forward, imua
the wild woman belongs to you
the wild woman is within you
oooo
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4. |
Rivermouth
04:12
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I’m trying to relate
but space looks so kindly on my mind disassociate my time while you call my name
I come back to earth
see you’ve got that
newly minted Aberdeen words flowing, fathoms in the bottom of my heart
dripping down, fingers out stretched farther washing out
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5. |
Solidago
02:35
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I stare into the red sun
and float the corners
the peregrine hovers along
talons sharpened
doweling the well in the road
goldenrod dried and burnt
the haziness shadows, the flowers
and I’m stubborn, but not like a bull, more like a woman
who won’t change her mind
who crates up her feelings
until they’re too big to
hold (too big to hold)
the wood splinters
and the floor becomes home (too big to hold)
the floor becomes home
I feel small though my voice is big
the chorus lingers
My hand on my chest trying
to feel my fingers
And I feel nothing, (but nothing)
the vastness hugs, me close
A tiny pulse is nudging me
to erupting
and I’m stubborn, but not like a bull, more like a woman
who won’t change her mind
who crates up her feelings
until they’re too big to
hold (too big to hold)
the wood splinters
and the floor becomes home (too big to hold)
the floor becomes home
the floor becomes home
too big to hold (too big to hold)
the wood splinters
and the floor becomes home (too big to hold)
my heart becomes
too big to hold (too big to hold)
the wood splinters
and the floor becomes home (too big to hold)
too big too
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6. |
flowers
02:28
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I am an Irish Rose
wrapped in climbing Stinging Nettles
Clovers warming cold twigs
as the cold wind brings
I am Plumeria
shadowed by Hibiscus petals
Lehua drops from branches high
as Keawe grasps the Nettles
Lavender smells so sweet
drifting down the mountain side
to reach Naupaka shining by the sea
in 40 days time
all the flowers of this valley
of my heart will dance so quickly
with the winter snow and wind
Lavender smells so sweet
drifting down the mountain side
to reach Naupaka shining by the sea
I am so many blooms
drifting here upon the cool breeze
spinning in and out of sunlight
as I rest upon the green
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Nalani Proctor Keokuk, Iowa
Nalani Proctor is a solo songwriter based in Iowa. Growing up in the small towns of Keokuk, IA, and Kahului, HI shaped her love of music, and sharing stories, but also pulled her in opposing directions of belonging, never quite fitting in as Hapa Hawaiian. Now, she's carving her own way. ... more
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