Dean Street
This song was written in my youth, remembering a summer spent in London. After about a month with only a few nickels and dimes remaining, the only way to prolong my stay in England was by acquiring a cheap supply of canned baked beans and chicken soup for the price of 50 pence a day. A friend and I slept under the bushes in St. Anne’s churchyard when we couldn’t afford a place to stay. Those were the days… in Soho.
”On Dean Street it cost me 50 p for bed and breakfast I was lying under bushes, eating out of cans, waking up by the church bells from the tower of Saint Anne’s”
– Björn Cárdenas
Dean Street Leads my mind to London In that cloudy city Beyond the endless sea Sleeps my young girl silently On Dean Street It cost me 50 p for bed and breakfast I was lying under bushes Eating out of cans Waking up by the church bells From the tower of Saint Anne's Dean Street Invites my weary soul into Soho In its worn out cafes A poet used to sing his songs Blessed is that era That I'm too young to belong Dean Street Reminds me of Anna Just like the chiming church bells That echo in my heart Just like the songs from the poet Only distance keeps us apart Oh... hmm... Dean Street
Emily
After hibernating yet another Nordic winter, I wrote this song about hope, a sensation that often accompanies the arrival of spring. It is also a eulogy for the American 19th century poet Emily Dickinson.
”I’ve squandered my youth
in search for love and truth,
I sacrificed all other things”
– Björn Cárdenas
Sweet little rhyme come help me one more time and blow a warm breeze with your quill A cold and chilly air is keeping the birches bare and lingers the snow on my windowsill With a candle light, dissolving like the gloom I've been safe from the shadows in the corners of my room Poor Emily all the night I read your poetry soothing lines my only company If not for you, I wouldn't see the break of dawn so hopefully I've squandered my youth in search for love and truth I sacrificed all other things My mind is confused and my soul misused by all the grieves that winter brings And my conviction once stark has moulded like the leaves disillusioned I stand in disbelief (I've been so) Poor Emily (So lonely) all the night I read your poetry (all the night) soothing lines my only company If not for you I wouldn't see the break of dawn so hopefully Like a farmer with his plow my sacred seeds I sow Will it take a lifetime for them to grow? Although the frosty earth has freezed every birth there is a slumbering sprout neath the shroud of snow Will this scenery still remain the same when my reflection has faded from my windowpane? (And I've been so) Poor Emily (so lonely) all the night I read your poetry (all the night) Soothing lines my only company If not for you I wouldn't see the break of dawn so hopefully If not for you I wouldn't see the break of dawn so hopefully