Dallas-Fort Worth provides the eclectic backdrop of art, architecture and culture for the first video installation for W.A. Fite; featuring the track "Western In A". The song is a trek into the composer's past, recalling the loss of an early love for an equally beleaguered run at making music for a living.
W.A. Fite
"Western In A"
Poisoning the Medicine Tree
Hand Drawn Records / El Villa Films
Copyright Fite Lite Productions 2011
http://www.youtube.com/wfite
Showing posts with label western in a. Show all posts
Showing posts with label western in a. Show all posts
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Picture Show: "Western in A" Video Stills / Take 2
"Western in A"
Production stills from upcoming music video.
Courtesy El Villa Films and James Villa Photography


Labels:
art,
el villa films,
james villa photography,
music,
pictures,
video,
wa fite,
western in a
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Production Stills: W.A. Fite Video "Western In A"
Video Stills "Western In A" by W.A. Fite
Courtesy James Villa Photography
El Villa Films / Fite Lite Productions 2010




Courtesy James Villa Photography
El Villa Films / Fite Lite Productions 2010




Labels:
james villa photography,
video,
wa fite,
western in a
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Lyrics: Western In A
The ground came rushing up, with the night in swing.
A wine red cup, a moon for a king.
What for? What for?
I grabbed what I could as I went for that door.
But there she stood, her hands in the sink.
What for? What for?
I winced as she spoke, saying, "Love, where will you go?"
"Thought the concrete is warm, those boots aren't soled."
What for? What for?
"Sure, my pockets are holed. Yes, my money it won't fold."
"But I got my youth. I don't need your home."
What for? What for?
The ground came rushing up with the morning in swing.
An open guitar case. A curb for a king.
What for? What for?
So, I slipped as I crept up to the door, but there you were alive with bloom.
And you said, "Babe you're going just a little too soon...that this house is a home, not a tomb."
Now that perfume that's swirling off your bed, brings my thoughts to the phrase that once you said...
Said, "A life...a life that has no love, is the one that you won't want etched in stone..."


A wine red cup, a moon for a king.
What for? What for?
I grabbed what I could as I went for that door.
But there she stood, her hands in the sink.
What for? What for?
I winced as she spoke, saying, "Love, where will you go?"
"Thought the concrete is warm, those boots aren't soled."
What for? What for?
"Sure, my pockets are holed. Yes, my money it won't fold."
"But I got my youth. I don't need your home."
What for? What for?
The ground came rushing up with the morning in swing.
An open guitar case. A curb for a king.
What for? What for?
So, I slipped as I crept up to the door, but there you were alive with bloom.
And you said, "Babe you're going just a little too soon...that this house is a home, not a tomb."
Now that perfume that's swirling off your bed, brings my thoughts to the phrase that once you said...
Said, "A life...a life that has no love, is the one that you won't want etched in stone..."

Labels:
lyrics,
poisoning the medicine tree,
wa fite,
western in a
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