Listen, or you are gonna miss it. He was gonna kiss you, and now he’s gonna not.
Listen, while you were busy talking, he was busy thinkin’, and now he’s gonna walk.
If you'd just listen to what the man is saying, to what the air is whispering around you...
You should listen, or you are gonna miss it, it will tell you what to do.
Listen, you probably have the answers, you just have to pull them from the sky.
Listen, or you are gonna miss them if you just lay down, and don’t even try.
If you just listen to what your head is saying, what the station’s playing, I don’t know
why you don’t listen, ‘cause then you could keep going, and before you know it, you’ll arrive.
Oh your heart’s seized up, your mind’s freezed up, like fall into winter turning.
But your ears are on fire, they’re ringing with desire, there’s so much they could be learning.
Listen, if it turns out you miss it, ‘cause you were busy dreamin’, this time that’s OK.
Promise to start listening the absolute next minute, to what your weary heart is really trying to say.
You’ve got to stop moving, at least for a few minutes. Peace would be upon you, maybe right away.
They’ve been trying to tell you, hurry up and listen.
Peace would be upon you if you would only listen.
They've been trying to tell you, just slow down and listen.
Rebecca Turner's music is a beat-up valise full of Laurel Canyon postcards, filled out with New York citygirl musings and country car-radio anthems. Her novelistic folk-rock is full of vivid imagery, happy/sad chords and unusual melodies that delight.