1. |
Martial Riesling
04:06
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My fingertips are tapping on a hefty stack of papers sitting
Stamped and sorted carefully, all ready to be sent
Sonnets, prose, and charming odes to ennui-laden scribbles so
Affected by the rain or lack thereof that fell today
I'm waiting patiently for June
I recall the sunlight waltzing in and giving way to halogen
Moons about the room, until the candles hit the switch
We were buzzed on martial Riesling and an ever-growing feeling
That we possibly were on to something worth another glass
So we poured it, and drank the bottle dry
And as the paid programming flickered, so did time
Blank checks made out to certainty, the memos bursting at the seams
With issues better left unspoken of and never seen
Almanacs with pencil marks on golden bands and travels far
To cities where our melodies can find a place to park
And we'll settle down for a day
Then we'll pack our things and be on our way
Even though we'd love to stay
Well if dreams are tiny trinkets on the dustiest of shelves
Where only youthful fingers ever stand a chance
I will raise you on my shoulders, lead you under, guide you over
'Til you get a hold that's firm enough for me to let you go
You'll struggle, and it might sting
But you know, my dear, what hurt can bring
While the critics sleep at night, we'll sing
Well I've got dreams too
But I'm not gonna share 'em with you
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2. |
Windjammer
04:48
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Summer bells at the crossroad
Charcoal smells in the air
Children scuttle with their claws stretched
Empty pockets, cluttered mouths
Restless limbs of an ash tree
Swatting every crab apple aimed for the street
Where a scrawny traffic dodger springs
Darting nimbly, dropping leaks
Cinder crackles from the rock bed
As splinters burrow in a hasty step
Coupled drudges in the shade of a pine
Heaving mallets at railroad ties
A search at dusk for a shoestring
Or a finger poking out
Cautious whispers from a vantage
In the witch's battered hedge
Sterile comfort in the wood fort
Earth and scarlet painted joints
Linen spirits in the closet door
Imagined trappings of a boy
Eyes wide, night light on
Blinds and curtains drawn
It's a thieves' dream
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3. |
Wrong About Distance
02:54
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Boring stage in the bark that I've built up
The vermin parade with the rain
Stones afoot, it's a twin city toss
I'm wilting with guilt but I'm safe
Dormant chalk and smoldering daylight
Bring fantasy getaways
Seaward trips where I cast out my deadlines
Drop the pole and forget about the bait
Anchored down while you're sailing away
I love you but won't ask you to stay
Some they wishin' for boots of native leather
But I'm just wishing that you'll help me stay sane
The future calls but it's hearing lift music
While I'm chopping down telephone poles
I'm pulling cords like a born-again Luddite
And waiting for a natural hello
Hope they was wrong about distance
But we'll see how far hope goes
I'm clearing airways and paving the streets
So you can feel free to come home
Anchored down while you're sailing away
I love you but won't ask you to stay
Some they wishin' for boots of native leather
But I'm just wishing that you'll help me stay sane
Anchored down while you're sailing away
I love you but won't ask you to stay
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4. |
Coming Away
05:59
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I'll curse you with the same mouth that loved you
And admittedly I'll feel a little strange
Time and time again it's the same, it's the same
A welcome mat with letters gone gray
Drawin' borders after you've crossed them
A coward's way of taking a stand
Catch the late crew change on the South-bound freight
And before you know, you're in another land
Coming away and going home
Where the roof, it fades from black to blue to gold
I dropped my scapular when I felt that I was ready
When I knew I had to do things on my own
Send your bullets my way, dig your concrete graves
And if I'm saved, the credit's mine and mine alone
Blue noses, carnal poses
A useless lampshade too
The more you think, the more you hate
So let us just appreciate this time we have, please stop thinking, babe
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5. |
Nevers
02:56
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Ain't it getting a little late for your roundabout ways
I've worn the prints from my hands
Drips become drops, and drops become stains
If you don't clean 'em up, clean 'em up right away
In the living room corner thinking, oh Lord
It's been over seventeen months
And now I'm grazing the doorknob, tasting lost meals on
The tip of her, the tip of her tongue
Thinking, honey, I've changed
It just ain't apparent
The sidewalk is watching, hidden under stale leaves that
Tear with each sigh of the wind
You were never one to blindly believe
In anything, in anyone but me
And it's a hell of a shame
That you had to bear it
You'd come running out, running out, without your mother's scars in my dreams
You'd come running out, running out, without your Southern scent in my dreams
You'd come running out, running out, without your sullen brow in my dreams
You'd come running out, running out, only to miss me, dear, mmhmm
Say what you want
Maybe tact's overrated
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6. |
Coffee on the Rocks
04:05
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A voice you used to love that you've grown to hate
Breaks dawn's silence with its cheery strain
The rising steam carries heavy dreams away
As sweat and tears flow softly down the drain
They'll be back tonight in the same place
Amongst a maze of cubicles you see
The ebb and flow of worker bees
With name and rank written on their sleeves
The bulletins and answering machines
Just spew out syllables endlessly
Phantom collar soaked in rain
Strident tweeter whistling more of the same
A crescent lamp above an empty lane
Put the heartless clock and chopping block away
They don't let you breathe the same, or so they say
Off with corks and caps and tabs and tops
Bottoms up, drink till you drop
The neon glows as the busboy mops
Up the ghostly remnants of earlier today
But the marks you left are here, here to stay
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7. |
Rooster
05:35
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The haze of coffin nails and the scent of liquid nerve
Swirl through the vacant garden rows
The verb coils warm as the check, check, checker
Reigns in his ersatz troubadour clothes
The ivory is stale as the company
Chestnut roots and fifths bled dry
The tired minstrel turns out uninspired words
Of hope and change and other statist lies
Cue the garbled sketch of an overpass arena
Where Rooster croons for an audience of two
Passing pairs of headlights make for transient marquees
And the stars guide his fingers in those rusty twelve-bar blues
They start with pilfered wives, then slide to maudlin sighs
For his only son who married a machine
He flails his head about as his voice grows loud
But nothing comes to mind for the turnaround
So he says whoa whoa whoa whoa, don't wanna settle down
Left with the slurred advice "don't depend on anyone,"
I slowly nod, but purge it from my brain,
Assure myself that it's too late, it's too late for that
And hope to all that's holy that won't change
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8. |
Terms of Endearment
03:35
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I shuffle each day past the greensward peasants
Molding somebody's earth
The helmsman directs from the bed of the crate
And fingers his pockets for all that they're worth
Bootstraps were made to be broken
By a wealth of invisible hands
Dignity force-fed, then stolen
And packaged by the choicest of brands
They surface as soon as the workers are gone
And kiss on the edge of their fertilized lawn
And he says, "Dear, I love you"
And she says, "God, I love you"
They watch the sun set on the boys in the street playing God with a magnifying lens
With a hand on her stomach, she whispers to him, "I hope we have children like them"
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9. |
Warren
06:23
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Pure shapes race around the house
Green thumbs left behind
There's glee between the cherry tree chops
At night while the master dines
We lie awake
'Til the humor runs dry
Tiptoe to the high dive
Climb for what seems like a mile
Make like a pencil and fasten my eyes
Feel the air rush by
Under the splash
I reach for the side
A puzzle within a puzzle
The cardboard casts do nothing
But pass the time and fill the lines
That hold the empty space
We roll the dice
Leave ourselves to chance
The clock moves a little bit slower
As we count through the garland of roses
We hold back our laughter 'cause it's not a joke
And wonder how long we'll burn
Oh, we'll burn
My teacher told me so
The blue boy's horn goes quiet
The snuff box rests unwound
The fortune wheel and ill-timed meals
Get lost on the auction block
Going once
Sold, sold, sold
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