Myrna was a young girl in Brooklyn, a busy world
She saw her life in line & hue, she drew it all but no one knew
Myrna, matriarch, wears a wig, makes greeting cards
In winter she brings us gifts & she shows us what family is
Well I hope she loved her life
Myrna was an old house behind mine, it's falling down
Salt water crashing down the stairs, windows shatter & gasp for air
Well I didn't know that people died
You're everything I want & all I had
It was everything & I want it back
Take me downstairs, I'm unaware of the gravity of her body there
So rub my back, take the nightmares away
Come back in the open door & we could be the same way
Tell me this isn't happening, it's so unfair
This isn't happening, it's so unfair
Irish singer-songwriter Oisin Leech's acoustic folk music is characterized by its muted beauty and intimate, solitary quality. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 16, 2024
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