Lost In Translation

by Soy La Vid

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Clayton Giles
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Clayton Giles Very inventive and unusual band with a great variety of sounds that holds together well. Definitely worth the listen. Favorite track: Bad Times/The Door (That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do).
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Largely telling the story of others through the inspiration of various works of visual art adorning the illustrious walls of the Art Institute of Chicago, Lost in Translation is a work of musical ekphrasis. I don't know another word for it and I don't know how to avoid sounding downright pretentious - so there you have it. The work deals with various themes - from love and war to spirituality and reconciliation. I certainly hope you enjoy the work as much as I enjoyed making it!


released March 6, 2012

All Artwork by Kathryn Dart
Mastering by Channel Fuse Media



all rights reserved


Soy La Vid Indianapolis, Indiana

Soy La Vid is the musical whimsy of Mark Abdon. Graduated from DePauw U. and now hailing Indianapolis, IN - current interests include Cinnamon Toast Crunch, tall mountains, Jesus, living in the 'hood, and his wife Laura.

Musical parents include the unlikely matrimony of such persons as Iron & Wine, Sufjan Stevens, Coldplay, The National, George Winston, Sarah McLachlan, Hammock, and yes... Enya
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Track Name: The Earth is a Man
The Earth is a Man
Something hurtles through the void
(an eruption of incandescent light)
As the building blocks of all we know
(Spray and splay in an ever-increasing sphere)

And in their midst I see myself/In that yonder mountain there
Yes I see myself/I can make out my jaw-line my hair
And there I am again I swear/Vanishing into the sea
But not before I sprawl, I spread/A grand polyphony of shades around me
Track Name: Bad Times/The Door (That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do)
The Door (That Which I Should’ve Done I Did Not Do)
I don’t think Death would knock; he barges in/
And makes himself a drink without askin’/
He casually, off-handedly begins/
“Pack your things”, he says and/
Jangles keys and taps his feet at twice the speed/
The second hand, as midnight closes in/

That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
You won’t believe me – even if I told you/
That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
Someone warn my family – someone/

“Well Lazarus, whatcha doin’ here?”, I say/
His beggin’ hands are folded as if to pray/
His beggin hands – decrepid and decayed/
“Right this way” he says and takes one key from Death/
And frees the door from sleep/
Whose coffin grin obscures the passageway/

That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
You won’t believe me – even if I told you/
That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
You gotta get me out of here – get me out of here/

“Don’t I have a choice in this?”, I plead/
“You chose”, Death said, “for fifty-seven years/
“You lived it up and you lived it out and you lived it miserly/
“So go on through”, he says, “deprived your keys to penthouse suites/
Your Porsche GT, Americanny dreams/
The bell – it tolls for thee/

That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
You won’t believe me – even if I told you/
That which I should’ve done – I did not do/
I thought there would be a light at the end of this/
Track Name: Interdependence Day (Greyed Rainbow II)
Interdependence Day (Greyed Rainbow II)
(Alone, alone, alone)
(Interdependence Day)

I been tryin’ something akin to alchemy
I’ve been tryin’ to save myself
If I could find a way to change religiosity
Into something but a prison cell
But each attempt it brings me closer to what I fear
Not only do I need your grace;
As well I find I need the people surrounding me
Happy Interdependence Day

Me? I find I need the people surrounding me
Track Name: Girl Looking Out the Window
Girl Looking Out the Window
No I’m not afraid of the dark
But of what the darkness conceals
It could be anything at all
Or nothing… and both prospects fill me up with fear

Did you see that light flick on?
Do you think they see me here?
Can they see the shape I’m in?
And can they see my scars?
My sickness and my sin?
Can they see my shame?
Is it as blatant as I think it is?
Cause I wear it plainly on my skin.

And yet I’m afraid of the light
Or at least what light would reveal
So I steal behind the curtain and wait
And welcome in a kind of gray


So here I stand
Between death and life
Afraid of them both I seize here
Paralyzed by verifiable fear
Can’t let the light expose me
Can’t let the darkness overgrow me
I can’t…. move an… inch.

I might be safe in this very place and no other
I can see the light but it can’t touch me
Turn my back to the black and it won’t touch me
Like all the ones before who won’t touch me
No not after they know, no they won’t touch me
I shudder at the thought – he won’t touch me
Flood of memory rush Oh God! He won’t touch me
See his hands see his hands Oh God! He won’t touch me
Screaming Screaming Screaming Don’t touch me no no no no no

Pry open my eyes and gone are the thoughts
All I take in is a world ignorant and clean
So I stay here in between
The dark and the light and I look out on what might have been
Track Name: On a Sunday Afternoon
On a Sunday Afternoon
Approximately seven billion little specks on this planet
On this planet
And I am privileged to while away the years with my favorite one
With my favorite one

Couldn’t have orchestrated it any better myself I’d say
Myself I’d say
Couldn’t have designed a finer teammate if you were homespun
If you were homespun

When one looks close
Surprise Surprise!
I suppose we’re both a lot of tiny dots and lines
But if too close
Surprise Surprise!
We miss the grandeur of the larger plot that intertwines us

Oh oh oh ooh etc.

My love is matchless and unique
Filled with idiosyncracies
I would make no alteration

From the voices that she does
And koumpounaphobia
To her enjoyment of the aged

And on a Sunday afternoon
On the Sabbath honeymoon
We enjoy a day of sun
Come on everyone come on
Track Name: Fisherman's Cottage (The Hermit)
Fisherman’s Cottage (The Hermit)
I like my lot here by the sea
No one to burden, no one bothers me
No smell of perfume and no skinny arms
Just some tall tales and my trusty pole


My thirst for adventure long run dry
I eat my silence like a shepherd’s pie
Take in the aged cracking trees
Am I the only one to lose my leaves?

If you ever see my posterity
Draw them a map to lead them here
Named each one after an old fishin’ boat
Then fled – and left them to sink or swim

I keep an oil-lamp on the window sill
In case the eastern shore can glimpse the light
If I weren’t so stubborn about dyin’ here
I’d swallow my guilt with oars in hand
Track Name: Fisherman's Cottage II (The Letter)
Fisherman’s Cottage II (The Letter)

Here’s a letter that I’ll never send
In it the power to break a man
On my worst days I’d love to say it to his face
And make him own his failures; every one
But I’m not that kind of son

Dear Dad, hope this finds you well
Meaning no disrespect, I’ve got some honest questions:
Where have you been all my life?
Did you ever even want a son?
How about another one?

Weren’t you supposed to teach my brother to fish?
Where were you on my first day of school?
How will I know if I make you proud
If you‘re not around
All the ‘atta-boy’s’ I’ll never hear

But if fatherhood is a learned skill
Who was going to teach you?
Your drunken sullen mother
or the cheating mariner that cussed and beat you?
I didn’t think so.

I’m just now discovering gaps of knowledge
Where I think it should’ve been
I thought we could’ve been like brothers
Or at least like friends
But I don’t even know your birthday

Where were you the first time that
I took to the rigging and the nets?
Or when I got my first seaworthy vessel?
Where were you when we married on the docks?
I was there for every one of yours

I’m afraid of turning out just like you did
I’m still wounded from the times they said
“you’re just like him”

And still I hope you’re happy wherever you are
I hope you’ve got the life you always wanted
I hope you’ve moved on and
don’t think about me too much
Sincerely yours, Your son

(4/4) Much better having these thoughts on paper
Good to get them out of my head
I toss the letter in the fire,
watch it cathartically burn
I don’t know where to send it anyway

And for all the latent anger
I love him still. I’d love to say it to his face.
What kind of a son would I be
If I left him the mess that I saw last
What’s my excuse?

I’ve got my seaworthy vessel
And I’ve got a map
I’ve got a general direction
And I’ve got hope
I’m out the door
I’ve got my oar in hand
I’m out to sea
And now I see no land
But a dim light to the west.
Gonna find my dad.
Track Name: Fisherman's Cottage III (Reconciliation)/Outro: Reprise for the G.L.O.W.
Fisherman’s Cottage III (Reconciliation)

I’m not worth it
I’m a burden
I’m not certain
I can be loved

I’m not worth it
I’m a burden
Not deserving
I can’t be loved

Glad I found you
Come back with me
I was angry
Please forgive me

Please forgive me

Grace though we’ve truly hurt each other
Hope that we’ll someday soon recover
Love covers over multitudes of wrong

Forgive the other
Forgive yourself
For we are those
Who have been forgiven

Be reconciled

He is reconciling the world to himself
He is reconciling one man to another
Through the one man we can reconcile
Through the one