Feed me to the birds at High Tide 

Spoken as streams of consciousness on Friday 8th May to music over Zoom  while jamming with Michael (musician) 

I’ve frightened all the birds from the sky 

Because the colour blue is now in reverse 

Number is just a verse 

And I’m seeking out the answers in the entire universe

And I hate to be put in the corner. 

I don’t dare to cry or laugh 

The musical instruments I’m handling 

Will only result in a bloodbath 

The world around me is sinking 

While I’m floating on a balloon 

And God gives me all the answers 

Far far too soon. 

And I’m rising above the clouds 

And I’m rising above the sun 

And I’m thinking back to French class 

Where I was the only one 

(So hold me in your arms) 

(Hold me in your lips) 

Cup me in the fire of this burning bliss 

Pour me in a glass of wine 

Drink me all the time. 

Re-do the words 

And cut my memories wide open 

Feed me at high tide 

The tide of ocean will take me 

Nest my dreams in the harshest winter 

Freeze them over 

I am open today 

I am open today 

I am hopeful today 

All these letters in my mind. 

Spoken to music live in streams of consciousness

Elinor Rowlands Copyright 8th May 

Falling From the Sky 

Spoken as streams of consciousness on Friday 8th May to music over Zoom  while jamming with Michael (musician) 


There are pieces of crystal 

(they) Are all falling 

The pieces are all falling from the sky 

The pieces of crystal are all 

Pieces of crystal 

Are all falling from the sky 

Teething out their secrets

Pieces of crystal are falling from the sky

They don’t fall far from you and I 

And I’m looking for all the dancers 

In their living rooms 

Searching for all the answers in their eyes. 

Seeing the cracks of cloud as they fall like fragments of a broken looking glass. 

Seeing the crash of blue shimmer back. 

And I’m looking out for the people 

The ones like you and I 

I’m forgetting how to breathe 

Though I do it all the time. 

Trying to find a whisper in my mind’s eye. 

And the sky is cracking open. 

There’s no corner left 

Flat earth’s were wrong 

So the world keeps spinning on. 

Pieces of crystal are falling from the Sky 

Do you remember - I forget my thought.. I see it climb a ladder 

Wash windows, play outdoors

Threading together the secrets held in our smart phones while the governments steal our voices and our mobile homes. 

And it’s too hot to sit by the fire 

The sauna is alive in my bed 

Cleaning out anything I’ve only just said. 

I am watching from the fire escape 

I am in the fire escape 

Studying all of the walls 

They are few from chewing gum 

Which shoes trespassed here 

How many footprints will I find 

If I cover the floor with ink? 

Smoothing my words within them. 

Will these corridors remember me 

As I walk up these steps to 

Spoken to music  live in streams of consciousness 


Elinor Rowlands 

They've eaten all the clouds out of the sky  

- Spoken as streams of consciousness on Friday 8th May to music over Zoom  while jamming with Michael (musician) 

Whilst I stand 

on grey steps 

Cement cold 

Old gravity 



And she's in the garden, planting salad, 

Planting hope. 


And I am trapped on Level 5. 

With nowhere else to go. 

And I’m sat on a train 

Listening to the radio 

looking for my hands


Sliding my head against the glass 

Looking out of this window 


Why are we all so small? 

When they can eat it all. 

Eat out the clouds 

Stuff their mouths with rocks 

Swallow back the sea 

Taste the world on their lips. 

Dive in deep with their fingertips 

Dine on the fantasy of fun

Oh how they see all the children run.


I see you fall into the ocean with 

Your back to me 

You are swallowed by the world 

and I am at the edge 

holding thick branches 


Grazing the skin of this tree

Hearing its bark on my earlobes 


And you, are swallowed up by the world 

And I’m at the edge, holding thick branches 


And no one is able to find us 

No one can dream to dare 

The moon is only a circle 

The sky is only a square 


And racing around are starving pigeons dropping all of their shit everywhere 


But the men in their high towers 

With boots tied to their knees 

Are encouraged to clap out loud every Thursday

at the NHS without PPE


While I continue to lay it bare. 

And rest my eyes so I can't stare 

Feel the hair on my skin in shock and spring high up in the air 


Pale fair

Grey metal

Cold skin

And now we’re becoming robots we’re not allowed to touch 


They’ve hijacked ourselves. 

Spoken to music live in streams of consciousness 


Elinor Rowlands 

Always Quieting Down 

22nd May - Talking about being hijacked, when your music practice is hyjacked and turned into something else to the point where you're excluded from your own music practice.... conversations about practice are needed so to not confuse logistics/validation with music-making. 

I stimmed most of the day today, ended up recording a bit of it. 

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