1. |
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I heard you saying,
"kill it before it reaches you.
Crush it under your steel toed shoes."
I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I heard you saying,
"grab hold of it and grip it so tight
it could never get away."
Thought it a strange thing to say.
And it got me.
It got me and it wouldn't let go, oh, no.
It wouldn't let go.
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2. |
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It was a day unlike any other.
The warm front had just rolled in and the wind appeared to hover,
and the sun pierced the cloudless sky
as I watched my ghosts wander by
out the window of my Yaris.
I rolled down past the origin point
from where all life pours out.
We used to come around and rock this joint.
We used to holler and shout.
We don't do that anymore.
The clouds rolled in above us as I turned right onto Mockingbird.
I saw the trees shiver and shake.
It was only then, I finally got word.
It was nearly too much to take.
I drifted past the proving grounds
wherein we gained our shapes.
There is nothing in or around them now
save for echoes of fate.
We don't do anything anymore.
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3. |
Tribulations No. 7
02:09
|
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|
I was somewhere in Athens with an ache in my bones,
Gnawing on a moonstone cabochon.
I was staring at a painting of a red tree on a white beach
when the truths of the new world revealed themselves to me.
And in an instant, I am the shadow of a boxer,
throwing absent punches at foes which are just not there,
splitting energy through the air,
When I realized you lied to me.
You lied to me twice.
I was somewhere lost in Florence with the inklings of you in my mind,
gnawing on a pendant cut from alexandrite.
I was passing a street band playing violins
when the new world was revealed to me again.
And the next moment, I am the light breaking around a boxer,
dancing in convivial pirouettes,
drifting through the radiant display.
When I realized you lied to me and I realized
you aren't very kind to me.
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4. |
Meadowmere Rough Run
02:10
|
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|
Blots of ink fell upon a wet cloth.
A number of them, all in a row.
Tendrils of their bodies began to wander,
spreading their color through the world.
Some of them grew up to be traitors,
others grew up to tell lies.
A few of them grew up for nothing,
but two of them, or maybe three of them, grew up to survive.
A handful of pale seeds fell by a coastline.
They set their roots and began to take their forms.
Through lifetimes they fought to make contact
beyond the rising waters of the storms.
One of them grew up to be a killer,
another grew up not caring why.
Some of them grew up to forget everything they ever were,
but a small few grew up to survive.
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5. |
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We were in the waiting room of purgatory,
waiting to find our place.
You said you'd been waiting for me.
I felt your warm lips on my face.
It ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet as anything.
It ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet as anything at all.
I had hoped you'd put in a good word for me.
You hadn't said a thing.
I had hoped you'd liked to have heard from me.
You didn't want to hear anything, anything but your voice.
Well, it ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet as anything.
It ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet as anything at all.
It ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet as living.
It ain't half as sweet as living is.
It ain't half as sweet.
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the Papersnares
He who would learn to fly.
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