From the Album Fleet Foxes
I was following the pack
all swallowed in their coats
with scarves of red tied ’round their throats
to keep their little heads
from fallin’ in the snow
And I turned ’round and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
and turn the white snow red as strawberries
in the summertime
repeat
all swallowed in their coats
with scarves of red tied ’round their throats
to keep their little heads
from fallin’ in the snow
And I turned ’round and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
and turn the white snow red as strawberries
in the summertime
repeat
An amazing song highlighting a terrible tale of accidental death. When sadness is felt through generations it becomes almost legendary. Every ghost story is hinged on some basis of tragedy. Accidents, murders, catastrophes almost feel unreal when encased in stories of early times. I do not know why a steamboat accident which occurred in the 19th century feels different than a plane crash or an abandoned asylum could be more haunted than a modern hospital. I wonder why we are so fascinated with terrible things which happened in the past. It is also interesting that tragedy of old times seems to be attributed to some humanistic flaw which ultimately caused their demise. Before the advent of modern medicine and technology existed a time of rampant death and wanton destruction. This is what the song feels like. White Winter Hymnal's archaic tone and dark beauty give it the same feeling as a ghost story which is aged and timeless. It almost makes me believe that fleet Foxes found this rhyme written on parchment in the basement of of an old house.
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