[Björk]
The space in your voice
Shows the scale of your compassion
The tone of your voice
Reveals the space you give others

[Björk & Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney]
The more I love you (The more you love me)
The stronger you become (The stronger I become)
The less you need me (And the less I need you)
[Verse 2 : Björk]
A dry voice
Comes from a stingy heart
But a moist voice
Comes from abundance

[Björk & Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney]
The more I love you (The more you love me)
The better you will survive (The better I will survive)
The more freedom I give you (The more freedom you give me)

[Björk & Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney]
When a mother’s house (A mother’s house)
Has a room for each child (Each child)
It’s only describing (Describing)
The interior of her heart (Interior of her heart)

[Björk & Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney]
A ballon painted with red clay
With lubrication will not crack
But will inflate
Then float high

[Björk]
Undo, undo, undo, undo (The fortune of)
Undo, undo (Of her heart)
Undo

Her Mother’s House (feat. Isadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney)

2022

Titre en duo avec sa fille Isadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney

Une version moins aboutie du morceau sans la voix d’Isadóra est présente sur les premiers pressages de l’album.

Between the gabber eruptions, Fossora offers tender songs written for Björk’s mother, a poem by the 18th-century fisherwoman and drifter Látra-Björg, the buttery voice of Serpentwithfeet and backing vocals from Sindri, her son, and Doa, who lends a pristine, folky tone to Her Mother’s House.

The Guardian

It’s also about me trying to be graceful about it. I have a very strange sense of humor that people don’t get sometimes, but it’s a humorous song about me being a kind of pendulum who either clings on too much or lets go too much.

Björk - Elle

“Her Mother’s House” acts as a farewell to both Hildur and Ísadóra, the latter of whom co-wrote the song with Björk. It’s a calm, painfully elegant choral-and-clarinet lament – a kind of eulogy to a memory, or to a vastly different life. After an album’s worth of superimposed pasts and futures, it feels like a narrative written from the twinned perspectives of Björk and Hildur, as well as the other matriarchs of their line. “When a mother wishes to have a house with space for each child / She is only describing the interior of her heart,” Björk sings, Ísadóra’s voice overlapping and harmonising with hers. It’s a simple, humble, totally staggering line – an expression of pure humanity, as far from alien as could be

The Saturday Paper