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Wildflower, for Foster (song with Mikael Lewis, 2018)
A song for a brilliant fella who’s flame burned out too fast (21 y/o) decades ago now but a conversation about “where did his artifacts go? where do all are items go? especially made in youth without cynicism and with hope” sparked this song. I wrote in Nepal, sent to pal Mikael who wrote music and performed… and this memory of Foster Harrison was crafted.
“Wildflower (for Foster)” 3:25, .mp3, 10MB
Words by Dave Olson with Mikael Lewis written in Pokhara, Nepal
Music, vocals, guitars Mikael Lewis, recorded in Utah, USA
A podcast storytime also under “Postcards from Gravelly Beach” banner is also stashed around here, as is a video of Mikael playing the song live in Provo (coincidentally on my birthday whilst passing through)
##
Wildflower (for Foster)
Foster can you tell me
where the hell you left those tapes?
I was riffing on my first guitar
you were mouthing poetry scapes
I'd go to visit your gravesite
but I'd hate to waste that precious hour
you don't belong in flat mown lawn
when you are a wildflower
Recorded in my parent's basement
our earnest, green, unflinching truth
unaware that three short years later
you'd be cashing in on your youth
Don’t need to pour one out for you
or leave a fat one rolled
I'll just light the signal fires
To make sure your story is told
The tale of the wildflower
I ignored their useless platitudes
self-serving, cliched and quaint
You and I both know what the truth is
And so I share this brief lament
I visit you atop the mountain
Where freedom lives and truth is found
When morning light first hits that meadow
I’ll have proof that the wildflower lives
Foster can you tell me
where the hell you left those tapes?
I was riffing on my first guitar
you were mouthing poetry scapes
I'd go to visit your gravesite
but I'd hate to waste that precious hour
you don't belong in flat mown lawn
when you are a wildflower
Recorded in my parent's basement
our earnest, green, unflinching truth
unaware that three short years later
you'd be cashing in on your youth
Don’t need to pour one out for you
or leave a fat one rolled
I'll just light the signal fires
To make sure your story is told
The tale of the wildflower
I ignored their useless platitudes
self-serving, cliched and quaint
You and I both know what the truth is
And so I share this brief lament
I visit you atop the mountain
Where freedom lives and truth is found
When morning light first hits that meadow
I’ll have proof that the wildflower lives
April 1 & 2, 2017
Words by Dave Olson
Music and all performance by Mikael Lewis (who also remixed the lyric for his stylings)
View all episodes
By Dave Thorvald OlsonA song for a brilliant fella who’s flame burned out too fast (21 y/o) decades ago now but a conversation about “where did his artifacts go? where do all are items go? especially made in youth without cynicism and with hope” sparked this song. I wrote in Nepal, sent to pal Mikael who wrote music and performed… and this memory of Foster Harrison was crafted.
“Wildflower (for Foster)” 3:25, .mp3, 10MB
Words by Dave Olson with Mikael Lewis written in Pokhara, Nepal
Music, vocals, guitars Mikael Lewis, recorded in Utah, USA
A podcast storytime also under “Postcards from Gravelly Beach” banner is also stashed around here, as is a video of Mikael playing the song live in Provo (coincidentally on my birthday whilst passing through)
##
Wildflower (for Foster)
Foster can you tell me
where the hell you left those tapes?
I was riffing on my first guitar
you were mouthing poetry scapes
I'd go to visit your gravesite
but I'd hate to waste that precious hour
you don't belong in flat mown lawn
when you are a wildflower
Recorded in my parent's basement
our earnest, green, unflinching truth
unaware that three short years later
you'd be cashing in on your youth
Don’t need to pour one out for you
or leave a fat one rolled
I'll just light the signal fires
To make sure your story is told
The tale of the wildflower
I ignored their useless platitudes
self-serving, cliched and quaint
You and I both know what the truth is
And so I share this brief lament
I visit you atop the mountain
Where freedom lives and truth is found
When morning light first hits that meadow
I’ll have proof that the wildflower lives
Foster can you tell me
where the hell you left those tapes?
I was riffing on my first guitar
you were mouthing poetry scapes
I'd go to visit your gravesite
but I'd hate to waste that precious hour
you don't belong in flat mown lawn
when you are a wildflower
Recorded in my parent's basement
our earnest, green, unflinching truth
unaware that three short years later
you'd be cashing in on your youth
Don’t need to pour one out for you
or leave a fat one rolled
I'll just light the signal fires
To make sure your story is told
The tale of the wildflower
I ignored their useless platitudes
self-serving, cliched and quaint
You and I both know what the truth is
And so I share this brief lament
I visit you atop the mountain
Where freedom lives and truth is found
When morning light first hits that meadow
I’ll have proof that the wildflower lives
April 1 & 2, 2017
Words by Dave Olson
Music and all performance by Mikael Lewis (who also remixed the lyric for his stylings)