from by Marian Call

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This is a song about recovering -- it doesn't matter what from. It's about stepping forward, awkwardly moving on. When it feels as if the curtain should have fallen, as if the movie should have ended, and instead you have new days to deal with -- this is your song.

The first verse takes place at Liard Hot Springs in remote B.C. on my drive back to Alaska after my divorce in 2009. The second verse takes place in Anchorage in midwinter. The third verse is on an airplane on the Fourth of July, years later, as I flew home to someone I was excited to see for the first time, and terrified to trust.

On that plane flight (July 4th, 2011) I flew above the thousands of stunning evening fireworks in Minnesota and into the biggest lightning storm I had ever seen. I was terrified, glued to the window, beholding the massive lightning bolts, five per second or so. The thunderheads had to be 50,000' tall. After we passed the storm the stars came out, very bright, and the remains of the Supermoon -- it wasn't full, I think, but still surreally huge. Then the aurora came out and put on a display outside my window. Then, as we approached Anchorage at midnight, the sun began to rise again on the horizon. At that point I nearly ate my styrofoam coffee cup and began blathering like an idiot.

Sometimes it can be very hopeful to feel insignificant, tiny, meaningless.


I pulled to the edge of the road, I got out, and I walked
Hundreds of miles from a stoplight, rolling North
Nothing in mind but escaping the fallout so hot
Nothing to feel but the Labor Day sunshine so warm

I don’t know how to move on, but September does
One day after the other, and if it's just
A little darker every day
Well the leaves look happy falling, don't they

‘Cause my hope is not light
It is not frail, it is the anchor anchor
My hope is not slight
It’s not the sail, it is the anchor anchor, oh...

Friends formed a line over Christmas for coffee & ghosts
To nail down the tragedy's lesson and swear and sigh
They’re kind and they’re real, but I'm a little relieved when they go
What they all want to give me they can't, though I'm grateful they try

I don’t know how to move on but my body does,
I’ll find the rhythms that I walked in once
My hands make tea, my brow makes furrows
My ankles cross, my shoulders worry for one
And my lips say, sorry, sorry, mm-hmm mm-hmm mm-hmm

But my hope is not light, it is not frail, it is the anchor anchor
My hope is not slight, it’s not the sail, it is the anchor, oh...

I took my first flight home to you on the Fourth of July
Lightning a-riot above and fireworks below
Something possessed the Midwestern summer sky
Thunder and sparklers, aurora and stars, and a red sub-Arctic sunrise
My heart was in my eyes

I don’t know how to move on, but this airplane does
You run real fast with your nose up and jump
It does the work if I just let it
I wonder if I've been struck by lightning yet
Have I been struck by lightning yet
Have I been struck by lightning yet


from Sketchbook, released December 1, 2013



all rights reserved


Marian Call Alaska

Marian Call loves making music for you. She sounds a little like Joni Mitchell meets They Might Be Giants & Regina Spektor for bourbon & laughs. She hails from Alaska but can often be found touring North America and Europe, and she lives on Twitter. Her songs are quirky, geeky, eclectic acoustic confections that taste like vanilla-cinnamon-chipotle something. ... more

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