Français




Buy EVERYTHING CHANGES on iTunes now! 
Or order your CD online trough DARLA RECORDS
 01  Don't Give Up on Me 03:48
 02  Everything Changes  
(Click to download)
03:48
 03  If You Come Home   05:30
More songs on Bandcamp

EVERYTHING CHANGES

01  Don't Give Up On Me lyrics
02  Everything Changes
lyrics
03  From What the Stars Are Made We Cannot Hold lyrics
04  You Know? lyrics
05  This Time Yesterday, Redux lyrics
06  After Dinner Meditation lyrics
07  Just Listen (Don't Talk) lyrics
08  If You Come Home lyrics
09  Haiku lyrics
10  Wake Up, Wake Up lyrics
11  We Were Famous and
We Kicked Walnut Leaves
lyrics

STAY IN TOUCH

To stay up to date with album release info please Like us on Facebook or Follow us on Twitter

☆☆☆☆
"A classic band in the making"
- Hour

"This is, simply, a gorgeous album: mellow yet complex, as rich as the best of Neil Young. Harvest Breed is a band in their prime."

- Joseph Boyden, Bestselling author of "Three Day Road" and "Through Black Spruce"

BIO

Harkening back to a time where albums were more than a computer playlist of MP3s, when music could still move masses, break hearts, open minds, and change the world, Harvest Breed 's songs bridge the gap between the warm and fuzzy iconic records of the 70's, and the consuming quest for lyrical perfection which permeates the work of contemporary poetry luminaries.


Recorded by Grammy-winner Mark Lawson (Arcade Fire), Everything Changes evokes classic albums by Grateful Dead, Townes Van Zandt, The Band, Neil Young and the Flying Burrito Brothers. It is at once invigorating and oddly familiar, like stumbling upon a long-lost friend in the middle of a foreign city, like the first snowfall of the year.

SHOWS

The band is not currently on tour
See you soon!
Photo: LePetitRusse

CONTACT INFO

© 2012 Harvest Breed : website by Jud Haynes


DON'T GIVE UP ON ME


Now it seems they were moments of wandering
Punctuated with the purity of exaltation

Visions of you in the morning,
Drinking tea in the garden,
Feet in the cool grass

I stood and searched the leaves for an answer

We walked down to the lake, then,
Monsoon-like sheets of rain in the distance,
"Don't give up on me," you said.
I touched the hem of your dress.
"Glaciers will melt eventually."

You and I,
A mass of fading possibilities
Now these stories,
Strangers lost in distant cities

Late afternoon in the parking,
Summer heat beyond our caring,
We were like fixed in time

It could have been 1950s New York,
Though I remember you were full-color,
Or post-war Berlin,
Your hair battling the wind
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


EVERYTHING CHANGES


Run Rabbit Run
The race is the same
For everyone

Are you awake?
Was it a mistake?
Everything changes

There's a lesson nearly learned
In every sleepless night
Dreading the birth of light
Every finger you never burned

Run Rabbit Run
You won't remember this
When December comes

Is it too late?
Was it your fate?
Everything changes

The stories we told as children
Born of vapour
The secrets we'd whisper
Betrayed and forgotten
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


FROM WHAT THE STARS ARE
MADE WE CANNOT HOLD


In the screaming days of my youth
I'd traded honesty for a sense of pride
But my selfish streak
Had finally reached its peak

When an ego knows no bound
Glory gets crushed without a sound
From what the stars are made we cannot hold
The years don't make you wise, they make you old

So... heading where I was for whatever reason
Staring into shops and restaurant windows
Ignoring the rain and the season
The wind and its echoes

It's then that I saw her
Sitting in a busy dinner
Like a lonely prime number
In her tattered Salvation Army sweater

She was lost among the noisy crowd
Her silence twice as loud
The room heavy with her breathing
The way her mouth would just sing

I could have stopped but I kept on walking
Sometimes the fear is greater than the calling
I understood I could no longer live for myself
And put the rest of the world on a shelf

And then the calm after the storm
A calm that's quiet and worrisome
The door opened behind me
She came out in a hurry

And I headed home
Our long shadows not quite touching
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


YOU KNOW?


Let's congregate under this steeple
Assembled over the continuity of form
Another weekly tryst,
A strange nexus of sorts

But from my third floor tenement
When rain drums the streetcars
and sidewalks, fills the gullies
I sit and contemplate our fate

Who are you, sleeping
On the couch below?
A sister, a mother, a lover?
Every woman rolled into one?

There is comfort in this blurry window,
This warm hand,
The slow rotation of our sphere
On its own tiny self
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


THIS TIME YESTERDAY, REDUX


The last of the season's swallows sing
Their cry almost childlike
in the crisp coastal air
We bundle wood in silence
Thinking about formlessness

We are but energy
The tired old mechanics of body

Steam rises from the lawn—
A fleeing elegy of dawn
To know about each other
What anyone ever really can

I SAY TO HER:

"Somehow, I'm never really fully outside nor in."
(pause)
"When the cold comes, I'll be gone."

SHE SAYS TO ME:

"It's not you I'm going to miss. I think it's just the feeling."
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


AFTER DINNER MEDITATION


Sidewalks wind through the city's verdant hills
Like loose ribbons

Outside, the sky so uncertain

I can see the light of our kitchen
Flooding out onto our street
The family at the table, docile

Kindness to strangers
Is so much easier
Than closeness

Every line our lives will bisect
And every time we'll connect
Summer just may need our help yet

Sentience comes in waves
Waves and waves
The ocean calls
(the tide rises and falls)
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


JUST LISTEN (DON'T TALK)


To begin with randomness:
staring at a broken piece of mottled glass
alone in the dried-up river bed.

To continue with misgivings:
an empty Friday night,
your voice betraying surprise
on the other end of the line.

We crawled out of oceans to come scream on hilltops,
but there are still hornets in our garden.

Now I know why I never got the plane tickets (2),
the box of x-ray pencils, the newspapers,
Christmas gifts and apology letters...
You never sent them.
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


IF YOU COME HOME


If you come home
You will turn this town
All the way upside down
One more time now

After so long
Waiting for the day
Planning what I would say:
That I'd been long gone

You were a dizzy weathervane
Pushed by the wind that sweeps down our empty lane
I was drowning in a stream
Never free as when you came to me in a dream

If you come home
You will burn this town
All the way to the ground
One more time now

You will turn on Main
Radio towers flashing
In a purple sky, drive
Past the high school
Past the strip mall
Like we were never there at all

You are a dizzy weathervane
Pushed by the wind that sweeps down our empty lane
I was drowning in a stream
Never free as when you came to me in a dream
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×

HAIKU


Temple spires against pale moonlight
Sirens wailing in the night—
Love, like a blind songbird in flight
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


WAKE UP, WAKE UP


Wake up,
Honey, wake up

I've been riding alone for miles
With California just outside the window
An old love song comes on the radio
  Wake up,
Honey, wake up

I've been waiting now for a while
There are promises on which this life can't deliver
Once you give up on the shiver of a future
Wake up,
Honey, wake up
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×


WE WERE FAMOUS AND WE
KICKED WALNUT LEAVES

(a song for Richard Brautigan)

We were famous and we kicked walnut leaves
We were the hand that seldom gives
But always receives
People loved us on the street
We mocked their pitiable defeat

We were famous and we kicked walnut leaves
We still mistook pride for strength
And strength was our guide
The years felt new and different
We thought we'd never have to repent

We were famous and we kicked walnut leaves
The weight of reality is never
That which one perceives
Undaunted by the lessons of history
We were all practice and no theory
We were famous and we kicked walnut leaves

But we got out of the business
There was no one left to impress
Now on Friday nights we look at pictures
And try not to envy the amateurs
 
©Harvest Breed.2012  
 

×