Album: December
Year: 2007
Artist Website: ketchharbourwolves.ca
Location: Tyndall and Temple

The Story:
“We spent the summer of 2005 in a small, third floor apartment at Tyndall & Temple Ave. in Parkdale. It was the so-called Summer of the Gun, and our neighbourhood saw its share of violence. The sound of sirens puncturing the night’s silence, or the pulsing red and blue flash of emergency vehicles were not unfamiliar on Tyndall. It was a hot summer and the air was thick most nights. It got so hot up in our little attic apartment that we eventually hauled our mattress out on to a small balcony off our kitchen and slept under the stars. It was a magical experience, drifting to sleep in the warm glow of the city light up in the tree canopy, oblivious to what might be happening down at street level. Eventually the summer nights cooled and we moved back inside (which also did wonders for my irrational fear of squirrel attacks), and in time away from Tyndall ave. I’ll never forget that balcony bed under the stars nor will I forget the strange and wonderful alchemy of Parkdale.”

-Jonathan Tyrrell of Ketch Harbour Wolves

Lyrics:
The hum, the pulse
The soft city lull is sung
The midnight stars are hung
We wait for the sun to come round

Out of the calm the sirens sing out the song
Of best laid plans gone wrong

There are things I would like to remember
And things I would like to forget
But show me a light in the Parkdale night
And I’ll gladly sink my regrets
In your dark eyes

The eye, the lens
The letter that Jesus sends
When the daylight slips again
In to the web of the night

But you and I we spoke with the city that night
Perched high above street lights

There are things I would like to remember
And things I would like to forget
But show me a light in the Parkdale night
And I’ll gladly sink my regrets
In your dark eyes