Whiteout Over Fairbanks
Take B delivers an evocative indie-folk interpretation marked by expansive reverb and intimate vocal phrasing.
The stories behind Whiteout Over Fairbanks
- Acoustic Warmth and Driving Momentum in the Arctic — Take B delivers an evocative indie-folk interpretation marked by expansive reverb and intimate vocal phrasing.
- Racing Winter Storms with Critical Neonatal Gear — Across sub-zero tundra, a dedicated technician and bush pilot transport life-saving equipment through blinding snow.
Lyrics
The The
mercury was freezing the thermometer glass
The last runway lights were disappearing fast
Radio cracker from the tundra out west
A newborn baby fighting with a shadow in her chest
Jaundiced and cold in a clinic on the ice
Waiting on the pilot to roll the winter dice
Stowed the phototherapy blanket in the seat
Heater in the cabin, barely throwing any heat
Oh, bush pilot turned and tapped on the dial.
We got 400 miles of an arctic mile.
Over the wide eye, under the gray
Chasing the tale of the dying winter day
Wings building frost on the leading edge chrome
Carrying a heartbeat so far from home
Fly for Africa through the snow
Where only the ravens and the bush pilots go
Blue light and oxygen held in our hands
Flying across the frozen northern lands
No runway, market's just a river of ice
Paying the weather its frozen price
A biomed ridin' the arctic sky,
refusin' to let that little light die
Little light die
Skis touch the snow drift with a bone jar and thud
Frozen sea ice mixed with tundra river mud
Snow machine met us by the wing of the plane
Rushed through the clinic door out of the gale
Unrolled the fiber optic blanket in the bay
Wrapped the little girl and washed the shadows away
Tuned the oxygen blender to 24
Felt the holy silence where the panic had went
Fly for Africa, cut through the snow
Where only the ravens and the bush pilots go
Blue light and oxygen held in our hands
Flying across the frozen northern lands
No runway markings, just a river of ice
Paying the weather its frozen price
A biomed riding the arctic sky
Refusing to let that little life die
Little life die
Touched my pocket sleeve in the quiet air
No words needed between human souls
When a newborn bred
Is made safe and home
High for Alpha cut through the snow
Where only the ravens and the bush pilots go
Blue night and oxygen held in our hands
Flying across the frozen northern lands
No runway markings, sister river of ice
Paying the weather its frozen price
A biomed riding the arctic sky
Refusing to let that
little light die
baby breathing sweet heading
back south
