About Brittsommar
The colors faded, and the light fell, on the date of the last warmth on the thirty first. The trees wilted, and the birds flew from them- carrying the sun upon their wings. The clouds gathered closer, and grew grey from the reminiscence of the summer's spoils. The nights were more quiet then. Shadows grew longer. And the faces of wise men fell a little lower, just as did the horizon behind the country hills. But before the last bird flew, and the last color faded; before remains became the wind
Top Tracks
Can't Breathe On My Own
Sing Low
Tell Me
North Country Blood
The Painter
Middle Man
Ain't You Wealthy, Ain't You Wise
Half-Inch Map
Sweet Sleep
Godspeed
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