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Young Men Of Promise
Yellowbirds Lyrics

Meeting you was like a car crash
I’m a river you’re an ancient sea

Promises I’m gonna keep
Promises for certain love

Drag your steps and mind your speakers
From one ocean to another shore

Promises I’m gonna keep

Promises for certain love

We’re riding with a destination
Pale riders on the road
Black coats and a furnace wide open
Covered in snow
Drag your steps and mind your speakers
From one ocean to another shore

Promises I’m gonna keep
Promises for certain love

Meeting you was like a car crash
I’m a river, you’re an ancient sea

Promises I’m gonna keep
Promises for certain love

Contributed by Michael J. Suggest a correction in the comments below.

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Yellowbirds is the moniker for the latest musical exploits of Sam Cohen (guitarist / songwriter / vocalist in the psychedelic collective Apollo Sunshine). Cohen grew up in Houston, Texas, and while the Texas of his teens may have been home to Big Oil, Enron, the Bush family, and the drab grey Astros jerseys of the 90′s, he prefers to think of it as the Texas of yore- home to Roy Orbison, Buddy Holly, the Space Program, and rainbow orange Astros jerseys. Read Full BioYellowbirds is the moniker for the latest musical exploits of Sam Cohen (guitarist / songwriter / vocalist in the psychedelic collective Apollo Sunshine). Cohen grew up in Houston, Texas, and while the Texas of his teens may have been home to Big Oil, Enron, the Bush family, and the drab grey Astros jerseys of the 90′s, he prefers to think of it as the Texas of yore- home to Roy Orbison, Buddy Holly, the Space Program, and rainbow orange Astros jerseys. It stands to reason, then, that his current home of New York City must be the mythical Empire City – Rocky Mountains of architecture, epicenter of modern art, home to Charles Mingus and The Velvet Underground.

It was with these timeless inspirations in mind that Cohen created The Color by Yellowbirds, his “solo” debut. Double-speed auto-harp glissandos, glowing backwards pedal-steel, bubbling echo and fuzz guitars coalesce into a warm wall of sound. As existential lyrical themes emerge, delivered nonchalantly over psyched-out aural landscapes, the picture emerges of a dust-blown, 4th dimensional Future West. This is Cohen’s quixotic world where “only the purist tones can be heard.”