Ashes
Andrea Gibson feat. Chris Pureka Lyrics
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and burned alive
my ashes came down like snow
and a girl who had never seen my face
saw me falling from the sky
and laid down on her back to make an angel
in the powder of my bones
‘though my eyes were still flame
and my ribs were still blue,
they didn't win, I whispered
as her arms built my wings
they didn't win
Look at that moon
it is a pebble in my hand
tonight, I could skip it across that fog-drunk sea
to the lashes accordion in the night
and all they know of hate
is that it couldn't beat the love out of me
that when they dropped me to the grave,
I fell like a bucket in to a well
and came up full;
carving my lover's name in to the skin of a weeping willow
that had spent its entire life laughing at the rain
Hold me like a lantern;
staircase my spine
When they bring the children to my funeral
to scream faggot at my dust
tell them
I was born in to their casket
but I wouldn't pull the splinters from my heart
any more than Christ
would've pulled the thorns from his crimson head
They can come a thousand times
with their burning match
and their gasoline
with their hungry laws
and their empty mouths
full of prayers
to that God that greeted me at his gates
with his throat full of trumpets
and his tears full of shame
as his trembling palms
collected the cinder of his children's crime
I know what Holy is
I know that the soul is shaped like a bowl;
I know the lies we try to fill it with
and we spill too often the orchards inside
but my lover's shoes were tied with guitar strings
and when I walked beside
there was a silo in my chest;
there was a field full of sun;
there was a river full of gold
that we left
to pick our sweet hearts from the trees
that kept uprooting tombstones
so the names of the dead
would crumble in to poems
Write me down like this:
say my ashes never made the news;
say the jury was full of shotguns
and say the snow that fell on the tip of your tongue
refused to melt away
say this
to the kids hiding their heart beats
from their father's fists
I planted the garden of my kiss;
I opened the night with my teeth;
I loved so hard that when they pressed their ear to the track,
the train they hear coming will still be my chest -
a rumbling harpoon; a sky they can not bury
Look at that moon
I am a pebble in her hand;
a harmonica held to the mouth of the river where
nothing
ever
burns
The lyrics to Andrea Gibson feat. Chris Pureka's song Ashes tells the story of a person who was burned alive for not conforming to society's expectations. The ashes from their burnt body fell from the sky and landed on a girl who had never seen them before. She made an angel in the powder of their bones, giving the person a sense of comfort that they had not lost to the hate that had taken their life.
The person then watches from heaven as the girl builds their wings, and they whisper that the hate that took their life did not win. The moon is used as a metaphor for the person's life, something small and seemingly insignificant, but it still has power and meaning. The person then talks about how they fell like a bucket into a well and came up full, carving their lover's name into the skin of a weeping willow that laughed at the rain, which speaks to the depth of their love.
The song culminates in the person telling the listener to tell the kids hiding their heartbeats from their father's fists that they planted the garden of their kiss, opened the night with their teeth, and loved so hard that when someone presses their ear to the track, the train they hear coming will still be the person's chest, "a rumbling harpoon; a sky they cannot bury." This is a powerful message that speaks to the resilience and power of love and how it can overcome hate even in the face of death.
Line by Line Meaning
The night I was torn from the pages of their Bible
I was shunned from their religious community
and burned alive
I was victim to hate crime
my ashes came down like snow
My remains fluttered to the ground like snowflakes
and a girl who had never seen my face
A stranger observed my remains falling from the sky
saw me falling from the sky
Observed my remains fluttering down to the ground
and laid down on her back to make an angel
She laid down to make a snow angel in my remains
in the powder of my bones
In the remains of my bones
From heaven, I watched her,
I observed her from the afterlife
‘though my eyes were still flame
Despite my death, I still had fire within me
and my ribs were still blue,
My bruised body remained
they didn't win, I whispered
The people who harmed me did not win
as her arms built my wings
As she created a snow angel, she brought my spirit to life.
they didn't win
Despite my death, I won against their hate
Look at that moon
Take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moon
it is a pebble in my hand
The moon is small in comparison to the vastness of the universe
tonight, I could skip it across that fog-drunk sea
In the moment, the idea of skipping the moon on the sea seems possible
to the lashes accordion in the night
The surroundings of the night are musical
and all they know of hate
All those who hate don't understand anything else
is that it couldn't beat the love out of me
Hate cannot fully extinguish love
that when they dropped me to the grave,
When I died
I fell like a bucket in to a well
My body fell to the earth like a heavy object into a shallow well
and came up full;
Yet my life was full despite my empty body
carving my lover's name in to the skin of a weeping willow
My love for my partner was forever showed in the tree bark
that had spent its entire life laughing at the rain
The tree had always found joy in the rain
Hold me like a lantern;
Hold my spirit dear
staircase my spine
Gently support me in my vulnerability
When they bring the children to my funeral
At a funeral, when kids are inevitably exposed to death
to scream faggot at my dust
To shout an offensive word as I am laid to rest
tell them
Inform them
I was born in to their casket
My life was negatively affected by their bigotry
but I wouldn't pull the splinters from my heart
Despite their hate, I would not let them hurt me
any more than Christ
Similarly to Jesus
would've pulled the thorns from his crimson head
Would have removed the thorns from his head during crucifixion
They can come a thousand times
They can try many times
with their burning match
With their anger fuelling them
and their gasoline
And their destructive influences
with their hungry laws
With their tailored laws of intolerance
and their empty mouths
From which no true positive thought ever emerges
full of prayers
Inherited from their narrow-minded community
to that God that greeted me at his gates
To the god I encountered in the afterlife
with his throat full of trumpets
The god that seemed to trumpet as he spoke
and his tears full of shame
Whose sorrow seemed to suggest that he was also responsible for the hate in the world
as his trembling palms
As he witnessed the harm of his creation
collected the cinder of his children's crime
Picked up the ash of the destruction caused by humans
I know what Holy is
I fully understand what it is to be Holy
I know that the soul is shaped like a bowl;
I believe that the soul can be seen as a container
I know the lies we try to fill it with
I understand the falsehoods we use to fill our souls
and we spill too often the orchards inside
We often waste the beauty that is within us
but my lover's shoes were tied with guitar strings
My partner was full of joy in their eccentricities
and when I walked beside
And when I was around them
there was a silo in my chest;
I felt whole and full of life in their presence
there was a field full of sun;
I could feel the warmth and happiness in my chest
there was a river full of gold
I felt abundant and prosperous in love
that we left
That we had to leave behind
to pick our sweet hearts from the trees
To collect pieces of our love from the swirling ether
that kept uprooting tombstones
That caused introspection and change within ourselves and those around us
so the names of the dead
So the memory of the past is not lost
would crumble in to poems
Would be preserved in the story of the journey
Write me down like this:
Remember me in this way
say my ashes never made the news;
Say that my death was not headline news
say the jury was full of shotguns
Say that the convictions were based on bias and prejudice
and say the snow that fell on the tip of your tongue
The snow you tasted on your lips
refused to melt away
Staying pure and white despite the warmth of your tongue
say this
Tell the story of my life in this way
to the kids hiding their heart beats
To those who are afraid to express who they are
from their father's fists
Due to fear of their caretaker's abuse
I planted the garden of my kiss;
I put my love into all I did
I opened the night with my teeth;
I faced challenges head-on
I loved so hard that when they pressed their ear to the track,
I loved tirelessly and unapologetically
the train they hear coming will still be my chest -
The sound of my love would still reverberate through them long after I'm gone
a rumbling harpoon;
A thunderous weapon of love
a sky they can not bury
A limitless force inherent within them that could not be forgotten
Look at that moon
Take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moon
I am a pebble in her hand;
My presence is small in comparison to the vastness of the universe
a harmonica held to the mouth of the river where nothing ever burns
A musical instrument in the vast emptiness of space where no destruction occurs
Contributed by Colton E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.