Amphibious Heart


Take your hand of my shoulder. No, we’ll never see her again. What they say happened that day, Occam’s razor be damned, it’s too hard to comprehend. We crept out on frozen water. On midnight sky, cotton breath played. We laughed hard when she grabbed my hand and said, “Hey, that star’s headed our way.” She said, “Star, take me away.” Right then Sadie started barking. Dragon wind screamed, felt the ice moan. I slipped fell down, my head hit cold ground. My glasses were off but I could hear them sing, heavenly voices, so many voices, “Star, take me away.” And that star like a memory, pinprick small, grain of sand, pulses red its message, “Ready quick, grab my hand!” A trapeze when I met you. We would swing from the trees, you and I, flying high, ribbons bent in the breeze.

Look at your hands pale yellow, difficult to arrange, ten eyes, ten ears, five mouths, white wax perfect veins. Waving our signs, “Bring us some wine,” the enemy of innocence. Our voices blending, loving, lusting, lilting in lavender. Sweet discordant laughing, longing, bullying customers. We bribe and we shriek, a Freudian dry heat. We’ll persevere valiantly. I am roses, you are hail, summer’s truth now wet and bare. “Let’s drive to the city? I’m so hot I could die.” You open palm the question, watch the tempers fly. Truth, sweat, and crushed mint: love’s antiseptic. “Can we get out of here? Babe, let’s get out of here.” You are roses, I am hail, summer’s truth now wet and bare. Look at your feet, one sickled, beautiful, perfect, strange. These sins don’t add up right, the world owes me some change. Wisdom my dear, your mind is your mirror; color it carefully. I’ll wear roses if you play hail. Summer’s truth will leave us wet and bare.

My amphibious heart, lubricated by winsome dreams, in a cage made of bones and strings, it beats, it waves, it sings. My amphibious heart, predicated by warmth above, hears your voice singing songs of love or maybe its just doves. My amphibious heart, tired and jaded from years of talk, feeds itself to a passing hawk, the wound still white, still hot. Oh bend my bars, my milk-white bones, I’m going home. I will carry your blood; mix your doubt with faith. Breathe salt water. Breathe air. Love can’t rust my veins.

Last night, I remember a couch, a full coffee table, sticky and ashen, a shirt with your smell. I know it so well. Last night, I remember a Buddha, sideways ideas on cork boards, Pollock-like paintings, a bent-string guitar. Did we take things too far? Now a full incense holder sits taller than most. Maybe it knows what happened. Lord knows I’m not getting any clues from Hussein’s photographic ghost. Last night, I remember an Xbox, a worn copy of Snow Crash, two dusty turntables… there’s no microphone. Maybe I should go home? Oh but last night I dreamt of a lake boat, swimming round in your backyard, purple-orange brushstrokes, the wind in our hair. Can we go back there? Now behind the piano sit pieces of vase from your family tree, on your grandparents’ table a single red blossom from me…

Slowly we’re dreaming, we’re far, far from here. Lend me your shoulder and I will whisper the words in your ear. Slowly we’re floating, drifting along. Fingers dip in silk waters, feathered spirits make worlds with a song. Slowly we’re flying; we’re soaring so high. Please, please don’t wake me. I don’t wanna fall from this sky. Slowly we’re dreaming, we’re far, far from here. Lend me your shoulder and I will whisper the words in your ear.

Keep me up all night long; let me sleep past the dawn. Stir my heart with a coffee spoon; tell my eardrums not to swoon. Good luck. Fat chance. When that scorpion stings, oh, it stings fast. Kick your feet high; let the swing of life soar. Answer, “Yes”, to the wind’s rusty knock on the door. Open. Open. Open upward and out, inward and down. You are stardust in human form born to cry, laugh, kiss, and mourn. You are gold in human form born to glide, shine, melt, and warm.

Dear July,
Your wind is just a whisper; you’re bluster blinking by. You turned my blazing desert heart into the sinking summer sun. Still July, I’ll miss you when you say goodbye. Your smile’s like a secret I first saw down by old Byron’s Creek. How the water rushed to greet you; you just laughed and splashed me with your feet. I’ll throw myself into September, a bed a leaves to break my fall. We just weren’t meant to be together. Still my July, I hope you answer if I call. It’s true July, I loved waking up to see you on the walk from Poplar down to Main. Oh my July, how everyone would greet you. With open doors, they’d be callin’ out your name. Oh my July, I’ll miss you when you say goodbye. Oh my July, I’ll miss you when I say goodbye.

This is is the most. This is the most beautiful. This is the most beautiful time… travels away. And time, why won’t it stay? This is the most beautiful. Ever. I swear. Hair hanging off your face and your bag on the chair. Your eyes on the road. My heart on my sleeve, begs reprieve. A kiss at the door. A tear on your cheek. A smile on the windowsill waving your soul in the breeze. This is the most beautiful. You are the most beautiful. “I love you most,” my grandpa would say. And I saw him smile, I saw him walk his hand within mine. I saw him live, blue on his jeans, gin in his glass, laughter it seems… all the memories. This is the most beautiful, forever in a moment beautiful. This is the most beautiful time taking me, taking me back, taking me on, taking me up, taking me higher. This is the most. This is it all. This is right now, where you are. This is the peace. This is the sky. And this, this is why.

Gold pours down these days of sweet fortune. I sit soaking up rays by blue ocean. Sat nam. Sing Hallelujah. Like saints before me, I’ll walk across the waves, footprints hold me, I won’t drown. Sat nam. White noise melts into sound, that sweet mooring. Hold my ears in a round, harmony soaring. Sat nam. Sing Hallelujah. Like saints before me, I’ll see beyond the day’s divisions, through the stars to God’s bright eyes. Sat nam. Give and take, bones break down soul’s sweet castle. Slowly rest in the ground; life unravels. Sat nam. Sing Hallelujah. Like saints before me, I’ll turn my heart to wind-blown petals. Red, they fall to grow again.

I made my love a ruby. It only took a year. He shimmers high in the sunlight, so red and clear. Not made with pressure, made with heart. Divinity made clear; he is my love. Well I made my love an opal, shaped just like a tear. So don’t you try to hold it, it’s meant to disappear. Not made with pressure, made with heart. Divinity made clear; it is my love. I made my love an emerald, a faithful green it glows to point our love’s direction. As we see, we know. Not made with pressure, made with heart. Divinity made clear; this world is love.

I’ll be with you there, my love. I’ll be with you there in peace. With you there in hurt, like when you’ve lost your keys. You can call me anything. You can call me on the phone. Call me just to say, “Girl, when you comin’ home?” Go on my love and go on my heart, spin me around, back to the start. Love, you know I won’t delay but I’ll be there in my time. Rise to reach the sun, morning glory vine. All the wild flowers know, yellow fingers to the sky, bend to breathe the wind; joy will fill your eyes. When the morning comes, my love, may you rise on wings of grey. Dawn will hold its breath as you fly away.


All compositions by Jen Hitt, except Open, written by Jen Hitt & Wilson Marks

Produced in Austin, Texas in 2015 by Fat Fuse Music & Jen Hitt

Recorded at Cacophony Recorders, mixed at Good Danny’s by Grant

Johnson & Christopher Cox

Mastered at Airshow by Dominick Maita

Original Art by Grace Park

Jen Hitt – vocals, guitar, piano, harmonium

Christopher Cox – vocals, guitar, electric bass, synthesizers, percussion

Matthew Shepherd – drums on Roses & Hail, Amphibious Heart, Last Night Dreaming, and This World

Diana Burgess – cello on Last Night Dreaming, Dear July, and The Most

Wilson Marks – electric guitar on Roses & Hail and Open

Andrew Pressman – acoustic bass on Open

Debbie Cerón – vocals on Star and Go On My Love

April Frederick – vocals on Go On My Love

Casie Luong – vocals on Star and Go On My Love

Sumukhi Kristina Lanuza – harmonium on Sat Nam

Special thanks to Bobbi Clements, Lou Conter, Michael Pederson,Kathy & Don Pederson, Stan & June Hitt, everyone who donated to the making of this album, the Song of the Month Club, and the Muse in her many human forms.

Make new music with this music. Sample, sing, reverse it, and interpret. Contact me if you wanna make money with it. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Creative Commons License