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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “Small God with Whiskers”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Night is a table left out in the yard, and something walks across it, certain. A bell-less priest in charcoal robes, soft-shod on the alphabet of fences. He keeps his counsel in a thimble of purr, stores thunder in the neat curl of a tail. Mice are rumours he edits to silence; milk is lamplight whisked into a bowl. In daylight he is sunlight’s shadow, a question mark warming the windowsill. He owns whatever he chooses to ignore— the radiator’s tick, doorways, laps, the kingdom of almost. Call and he answers by not answering. Wait— then chooses you, briefly, like weather, leaving behind a stitch of fur on your sleeve and two bright coins still burning in the dark.
Instructional lyrics
[Intro 8b soft clean gtr + piano ostinato] Night is a table left in the yard. Something walks across—certain in the dark. [Verse 1 4/4] Bell-less priest in charcoal robes, Soft-shod steps along the fence. Counsel kept in a thimble purr, Thunder curled for self-defense. Mice are rumours trimmed to none; Milk is lamplight in a bowl, well-spun. [Pre rise] By day he’s sunlight’s shadow, A question mark that warms the sill. He owns what he ignores— Radiator ticks, doorways, laps he’ll fill. [Break 2b stop] [Chorus bigger, stacked harms] Small god with whiskers, Chooses you like weather. Small god with whiskers, Owns you by not answering—together. (oh-oh) small god. [Verse 2 add shaker, palm-mute gtr] He names a kingdom “almost,” Patrols the borders slow. He touches things by passing them— What he spares is what he owns. Call and he won’t answer; wait, then feel him choose— A stitch of fur, two bright coins he leaves with you. [Pre rise, octave lifts] He blinks, the room turns holy, Window-sun makes warmth from gold. You’re only chosen briefly; Briefly is the hold. [Chorus bigger, double vox] Small god with whiskers, Chooses you like weather. Small god with whiskers, Owns you by not answering—together. (Small god) with whiskers—(chooses you) like weather. [Bridge strip to vox+pad, hush] Don’t chase. Be still. He writes his name in sleeve-soft lint. [Chorus x2 layered, airy] Small god with whiskers, Chooses you like weather. Small god with whiskers, Owns you by not answering—together. [Outro 4b diminuendo, guitars shimmer] (oh-oh) small god—(oh-oh) small god—still.
Song info
Indie dream ~88 BPM, warm minor/major blur; brushed kit, clean chime gtrs, soft piano ostinato, cozy bass pedal; hall verbs, gentle sidechain; intimate lead → small choir on hook; [strip to vox+pad] bridge; final ch x2 with “oh-oh” tail; arc E1→E5.
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