Out in the streets where the ghost of St. Augustine sweeps,up the paper cups, and the butts and the falling autumn leaves.
He walks with his head bowed down, and he seldom makes a sound,
though sometimes he gets a wild look in his eyes and drops to his knees.
He says Lord, oh Lord, whatever happened to me?
I had robes of silk and my own private sanctuary,
where the sinners brought gold on bended knees.
But I'm alone in a cold, desperate land, and I can't understand, Father, why you have forsaken me.
At the end of the day, St. Augustine goes to his room,
he hangs up his coat and he counts his meagre day's pay.
And he has a small bite to eat, says his prayers then he goes to sleep,
and he dreams of Rome, in rich and mighty array.
He says Lord, oh Lord, whatever happened to me?
I had robes of silk and my own private sanctuary,
where the sinners brought gold on bended knees.
But I'm alone in a cold, desperate land, and I can't understand, Father why you have forsaken me.
You can't just sit down and write songs like these. You have to wrestle with the angel first. Tyrella has done that- the proof is the songs on Albedo. He is a master songwriter. Rodney DeCroo
Durham, NC singer-songwriter Skylar Gudasz makes intimate Americana delivered with dry wit and stunningly precise vocal acumen. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 14, 2020