The Towering Mill

✍🏻 WRITTEN \u0026 COMPOSED BY EME LATINA (2026) 🖼️ ARTWORK PROVIDED BY AXYO -------------- ABOUT: -------------- This song utilizes folklore writing to tell a story of generational loss. The story is about waiting for the metaphorical great tower to turn when a soul is ready to say goodbye. I've spoken about grief before, but this time it's in a further realm of devotion and those invisible ties between generations that reveals it's often harder to let go then it is to hold on. -------------- LYRICS: -------------- whhh(ohhh)(ohhh)(ohhhh) whhh(ohhh)(ohhh)(ohhhh) Grandmother would take her tea on the patio, quietly facing the hill; Evening always found us waiting for the turning of The Towering Mill. The old road stopped at the hillside, where the forest took its fill; No one crossed beyond the marker; It was just as it'll always will What is this turning of the years? This final goodbye? It's not enough to have a place wherefore to mourn those who die... I am a girl, miniature against this grand world; unable to set you free, you belong to me; all I have is your memory. The tower with its long wings only moves when souls are ready; when they loosen their hold on family, and their hearts grow calm and steady (whhh)(ohh)(ohh) (whhh)(ohh)(ohh) Mother would leave a little candle burning bright on the windowsill; Said the ones who were gone before us would find their way still... When winter covered the fields, the church bells would start ringing; That was the way it had always been, when The Towering Mill was turning. What is this turning of the years? This burden we have to carry? A thousand names upon the hill, and none of them forgotten nor buried. I am a girl, miniature against this grand world; unable to set you free, you belong to me; all I have is your memory. Grandma couldn't let me go; she couldn't find enough reason.... She kept facing The Towering Mill, still holding onto me through many seasons Today my candle's burning brightly, upon that same ol' sill; My footsteps finally get to leave the pathway, and my voice gets to be still. whhh(ohhh)(ohhh) (ohhhh) whhh(ohhh)(ohhh) (ohhhh) I will take my tea on the hill, quietly facing the windowsill; the evening will find me enjoying the turning of The Towering Mill.