by Sagan Lane

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Sagan Lane are Marley Butler with Sarah Bilodeau.


released March 3, 2011

All songs written and performed by Sagan Lane.

Produced, Engineered, and Mixed by Marley Butler
at his home on the Woodpile Unit.

Artwork Image by Emma Linnane.


all rights reserved



Naplew Productions | Discography England, UK

Music released by Naplew Productions.

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Track Name: Mikodeau
Can intolerance change page
Can the seal of silence be broken
We’re making ourselves a hole in the ground
Planting our feet digging, digging

Pinning Tags all around our heads
Saying Do Not Disturb
Uncurious, furious at our neighbours
For playing at a different rhythm

It’s just he
It’s just me
It could be you
Is it a side of you that you hate
A side that you refuse to face
Track Name: Transience
I’m excavating a massive territory
An archaeologist
Revealing I against me
And all the in betweens

*I’m digging, unearthing to the very core
Pealing layers like a skin
Quiet whispers never recognized
In a palate uncombined

I’m finding old roots that have kept me standing
Certain ways
Learned, created Living for I
And against Me
Expanding oneself
To be itself
Track Name: Where Are You
I bought a heart of stone for you today
I want you to keep it
When you feel weakened
You can hold onto it tightly

Don’t let it get lost in your sleeve
As you often forget
That your hands slip
Like you mind dips to naivety

You left your gifts unwrapped by the doorstep
They sensed you right away
Entered in, one at a time
Squeezed out till your last straw

Wanting to please, unable to speak
The terrifying word No
One that triggers a fight
Or forces the false to flee

You mistakenly color pretence
Fuelling the force
That’s crushing your voice
Widening their ring for victory

Where are you?
They are walking away
You be whole and stay intact
A self-definition
Without that past self-image
Track Name: Script
You are staring in the fog
One eye about, the other wondering
Who are you? Who?
Why you are you?
How much of what I’ve become is choice
How much of what I’ve become is roots
How much of what I’ve become is my city
How much of what I’ve become is my friends
Is you
Everybody that were, that never were, just imaginings
Is it because of you?

All the countries that I’ve been
Are pages within me
I see your face in me
I have discarded what I didn’t want
But how does one choose what matters?

Out of the dissonant miasma
I can see clouds dissipating revealing
Sealed doors never owned, never even recognized
Yet catalyzing my feet to walk

A journey with no itinerary
Now that I’ve started this march
On the road of the past
What is The, My past?
On the corner of now, on the tip to tomorrow
Will there ever be a halt?
As I look in the mirror and wonder where you are
As I can only see my reflection

(Scripts as cultural, inter-generational, familial & personal. The past as malleable, open to changes through time & space)
Track Name: Éclater
Cruel se dépose sur mes lèvres
Brûle la fragilité de l’être
Allume l’effervescence
Expulse mes désirs d’entendre ta voix, de te voir

Je ferme les yeux encore, encore
Cherchant le nord, le port l’aéroport
Attend demain n’est pas plus loin
Cette chanson pourra dormir enfin

Sous ce toit d’amour fou
L’envie et le recul s’entrejou
Vivant entre les bordures

Entre dans mes rêves
Track Name: Isolated Opposites
No past, no future
Ready to deconstruct again
To a new state
Where all is gained, nothing is lost
As there is no beginning, no end

On the threshold, only transformation

Teaspoon of certainties and doubts
A pinch of tension
To get this stirring
I invite my thoughts and feelings
At the table
Like a guest to sit with
and have a glass of wine

On the threshold, only transformation

Mr.Rage, Mrs.Fine, Take a seat Mr.Daydream,
Take a seat Mr.Remembering
Take a seat Lady Thinking please
Take a seat Lady Play

Isolated Opposites
Please Greet

They`re undressing their nightgowns
Putting on a new combination
They`ve shown themselves naked

With presence, I`m crossing boundaries

I surrender
Track Name: Standover
Ca fait quels que paragraphes qu’ils se connaissent
Ils se chuchotent des regards entre parenthèse
La dance commence, elle continue

Les souliers glissent sous ses pieds
Les notes de n’écrivent plus
Est-ce que le centre n’est pas assez ?
Même mordant, battant dans tout ses cotés

L’encre remplie de doute
Coule et étouffe la page
Parfois la lettre doit être laissé inachevée, tordu, brulé
Pour ensuite prendre du recul et recommencer

S’entremêler dans la foule
Sans s’y perdre, sans s’y submergé, s’y identifié
Sans être trop isolé
Un île mais connecté
Un île mais interconnecté

La danse commence, elle continue