1. |
Diogenes
04:54
|
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I’m eating my hair up here
it’s in my mouth and my throat.
I might be looking you square in the eyes
but I think I might choke.
No I ain’t too smooth, ain’t too suave, ain’t interested in it.
I will say my hellos, my goodbyes
but I might make a mess of it.
Is there a place where I
can melt into the walls.
It’s not that I’m misogynistic, just feeling unsociable.
Could be cranky, distracted, or tired of sculpting a smile.
Yes you mean well, I see that but really,
just leave me alone awhile.
A place to hide
is never hard to find.
There are some times I’ll seem shy
might seem coy
might seem cold.
And sometimes my head’s on my shoulders
and sometimes I’m brash and uncontrolled.
But I find when I’m brazen and say what I mean and don’t mind
That those who are hiding stay hidden
And those who break free don’t hide.
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2. |
Jettison
03:37
|
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You had me feeling low
and down
so far down.
And you took me for the fool
but you don’t have a leg to stand on now.
I’m on the torn and ragged edge of some black and bitter feelings
but things are coming ‘round.
It won’t be long.
That knot of nerves in your stomach
gonna come undone.
They can cover their eyes and pretend it’s not happening.
The only one’s they’ll be blinding are themselves.
Wish it away, wish it away.
It won’t be long.
You and I…
a forget about it.
You had me feeling low
and down
so far down.
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3. |
Deep Breath
00:39
|
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4. |
Make Tracks
05:31
|
|||
Claw at the pipe
and claw at the gutter,
seeking a light that we swear
our own two eyes
spied in the tunnel.
So simmer down,
ease your soul.
Let’s take this time we’re given,
an asylum where we won’t have to
claw at the pipe
and claw at the gutter.
Eyes I need not strain.
Hands wrung raw
been worn in vain.
Just rake the leaves that fall.
We can’t make them change.
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5. |
Howl
01:55
|
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Is this what you—what you want?
Is this what you had in mind?
Are you gonna be satisfied?
Shape me.
Make me
think the way
you say
they will
be pleased.
Cut off my legs at the knees.
Is this what you need?
|
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6. |
Kebab
04:03
|
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7. |
Frozen White Wasteland
06:20
|
|||
Life is a deadpan joke
that flies over our heads.
We stumble, some surer than others,
in the same aimless direction.
To speak the truth is a test of a
man’s ability to judge himself
and assess his humanity
in the same unseemly light
that he judges the others.
Left a broken record
to skip itself to death.
Let the needle grind me into long black shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
Every so often we eye the train,
the one we should be on,
but we’re too busy fueling the boiler, to get off the one we ride.
Time is a pretty funny thing.
It heals and forgives us our sins.
But left to it’s own devices
serves desert on silver trays.
Anyway…
I left a broken record
to skip itself to death.
Let the needle grind me into long black shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
There are some things we don’t understand.
Bees rip their guts from their flesh.
And leaving the poisonous stinger,
they go off on their own to die.
Tell me why
I’m just a broken record left to skip itself to death
put the needle down into my long, black, winding rivers
let the needle grin me into long, black, shiny slivers.
Do you ever feel trapped inside your head?
Do you ever feel?
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8. |
One Way In, One Way Out
02:09
|
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I’ve left my days strung along behind
like clothes upon the bedroom floor
that lead to lovers, side by side,
who forget that they were ever worn
And when it’s time to collect my things
when that sharp alarm bell rings
I’ll claim as mine every stitch I’ve flung
and face the cold, the dark, the warm, the sun
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9. |
Riot In Cairo
05:08
|
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Cinders coat the merchant’s wares
who commits himself to flame.
Ashes, borne high on the Easterly wind,
spread his unrest on the land.
Seven days in Tahrir Square,
a lifetime more to come.
Change takes it’s perch on the shoulders of fate,
bearing no halo, no horn.
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10. |
Sing
02:40
|
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Lay me by a tall stone,
lay me ‘neath the grass.
A pillow for to rest my head
and arms across my chest.
Or maybe by the brook’s edge,
where the water meets the sand.
So I can sit and dip my toes
and turn into the land.
Or you could put me in a jar.
A coffee can will do.
And, laughing, throw me to the wind,
where I’ll howl and sing for you.
|
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