Description
Main Artist: Jobi Riccio
Producer: Isaiah Beard
Producer: Jobi Riccio
Producer: Jesse Timm
Composer: Julianna Marie Riccio
Composer Lyricist: Julianna Marie Riccio
Lyrics and translation
Original
Went out to the desert to try to dry up my sorrow.
Let the sun bleach my worried heart bright white as cattle bone.
Not much to do out here but wander 'round and think.
Watch the weather moving 'cross the skies, black and blue as ink.
There's a scent, a sensation of damp earth on the wind, and I feel at once the youngest and the oldest I've ever been.
Thinking on and holding each different version in my mind.
I see each girl before me and promise them we're gonna try.
There's a mirror in these mountains.
They hold it up to my heart and remind me who I am. I've been selfish,
I've been scared.
I was unprepared for how this would be.
Cold and hurt and anger, high and tight as a fiddle string that has bound me up in grief. I am still unraveling.
My breathing, beating, living, healing, in and out and in.
Make myself turn and face the feeling and sit inside of it.
There's a mirror in these mountains.
They hold it up to my heart and remind me who I am.
I've been selfish, I've been scared.
I was unprepared for how this would. . .
Can I be honest first with me?
Practicing, practicing.
Don't wanna bleed onto everything. Can I be?
Can I be?
English translation
Went out to the desert to try to dry up my sorrow.
Let the sun bleach my worried heart bright white as cattle bone.
Not much to do out here but wander 'round and think.
Watch the weather moving 'cross the skies, black and blue as ink.
There's a scent, a sensation of damp earth on the wind, and I feel at once the youngest and the oldest I've ever been.
Thinking on and holding each different version in my mind.
I see each girl before me and promise them we're gonna try.
There's a mirror in these mountains.
They hold it up to my heart and remind me who I am. I've been selfish,
I've been scared.
I was unprepared for how this would be.
Cold and hurt and anger, high and tight as a fiddle string that has bound me up in grief. I am still unraveling.
My breathing, beating, living, healing, in and out and in.
Make myself turn and face the feeling and sit inside of it.
There's a mirror in these mountains.
They hold it up to my heart and remind me who I am.
I've been selfish, I've been scared.
I was unprepared for how this would. . .
Can I be honest first with me?
Practicing, practicing.
Don't wanna bleed onto everything. Can I be?
Can I be?