Deep Winter Blood Loss

by Recyclone

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Written in November, 2003, recorded in February, 2004.
Until recently this song was lost and forgotten.


Water droplets crystalize. No two the same. Hard to wrap my mind around it as I
follow a blood trail in knee-deep snow. An owl haunts the air. A cry to encourage
nightfall. Deep woods darkness will be upon me soon. No flashlight and a winter
sky void of a moon. Thirteen with keen senses. Hyper alert out of necessity. Another
living creature is dying from my lack of curiosity. The faster I can find it, the faster I
can put an end to its suffering. We all leave clues and trails as clear as blood in clean,
white snow. But how far should one go, to put the beast to rest?

The quest may be long and trying.
Won’t know unless I do.
This world is frozen in which I am slowly dying.

The snowflakes are thick and stick to my eyelashes. I just want to lie down on this
large white mattress. Let a blanket accumulate from the sky and be warm within all
of its coldness. No time to dream of comfort. Must push on. Must not lose sight of the
trail that is so faint and fading. Mustn’t let my iron thoughts derail. I want to be rock-
like on which all the weight of troubled souls can come to stand. A model to base
your life on. With ruby cheeks upon pale, cold skin, I press on; climb a tree to get my
bearings. The tallest one I could find. A strong, towering pine. Its height allows me
to see the forest stretch out in all directions. I breathe in the scent of the wilderness.
It burns my lungs. I find it strange how the world can still be beautiful in all of this
coldness. Branch by branch, I descend. Just think, with a little more kindness, what
problems we could mend.

The quest is long and trying.
Must stay strong and true.
This world is frozen in which I am slowly dying.

Back in the thick of it all. Up to my knees in it. Surrounded by sleeping trees and it
doesn’t seem like the hunt will ever end. I relocated the blood loss while there’s still
some sunlight to guide me. Dusk is being consumed by night. Soon I won’t be able to
see at all. The fall has fallen and winter buries the dead. The scent of red will be the
only thing left of the trail. The wind whistles and a wolf howls. Shivers run through
my body and my stomach growls. The darkness is upon me. So with pinched brow I
keep on going. Following the tracks of the Trans-Siberia and it keeps snowing.


released February 23, 2013
Jon Hutt: Lyrics
Andrew Gordon Macpherson: Beat maker and recording engineer



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Recyclone Truro, Nova Scotia

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