From the recording FIVE - THE FIFTH SEASON
This song paints an allegory of climate and cosmic upheaval: the familiar four seasons that once ordered human life are broken by the arrival of a destructive “Fifth Season.” Its imagery of burning, flooding, and disorientation suggests ecological collapse, where farmers cannot plant, sailors lose their bearings, and even the moon and birds seem estranged from nature’s cycles. The Fifth Season embodies both catastrophe and permanence — not just a passing anomaly, but a new, fearful order that “walks the year” without beginning or end. Whispered as “Ember” in the outro, it carries the sense of a world smoldering in the aftermath of human disruption, a time “between the times” where old certainties vanish and survival itself becomes uncertain.
Lyrics
Verse 1
We grow our meals in metal light,
Flavour coded, sealed up tight.
The ovens hum but never breathe,
No fields, no wind, no golden sheaves.
Pre-Chorus
And my grandmother swore it was warm like the sun,
The crust would crack, the day would come.
Now we chew on numbers and call it fed,
But I still dream of the echoes of bread.
Chorus
Echoes of bread, in my wired-up head,
Ghost of a taste we can’t get back again.
We bite the future, but hunger instead,
For the echoes, the echoes of bread.
Verse 2
No hands in soil, no flour dust,
No loaves to break, no crust to trust.
We drink our meals through plastic veins,
And trade our hunger for data gains.
Pre-Chorus
And they tell me the wheat would bow in the breeze,
That a field could sing, that a loaf could please.
But the code can’t carry what the earth once said,
And I still dream of the echoes of bread.
Chorus
Echoes of bread, in my wired-up head,
Ghost of a taste we can’t get back again.
We bite the future, but hunger instead,
For the echoes, the echoes of bread.
Bridge
Maybe the seed is asleep somewhere,
Waiting for rain, waiting for care.
If we find it, we’ll break and share—
And hear the echoes everywhere.