1. |
moon song
02:54
|
|||
|
Moon, red as blood, drive from my mind dreams of this earth.
Leave my bones to rot.
Moon kill the pain, fill my lungs with lead.
Clouds choke your might and rip you from my arms.
Moon, don't leave me to flood the city streets.
Moon, rare as love, stay one more night.
|
||||
2. |
74 seconds
01:06
|
|||
|
I wish she’d talk to me, just for tonight.
She smiles so forcefully, but I don’t mind.
Her touch and her smell, I’ve forgot.
But it’s too late for us, she loves me not
|
||||
3. |
front feet
02:23
|
|||
|
i woke up twice before i moved
all the toiletries she used
we shared breakfast in the other room
i woke again she floated like a fume
now you’ve grown old and the land’s grown grey and christian
excuse me i asked the fleet
find them dancing through my dreams
there’s a disparity it seems
between what i want and what i need
|
||||
4. |
i woke up
02:15
|
|||
|
cried to sleep last night and I woke up with soft cheeks.
It was then I felt at peace, it was then I felt relief and had the most
wonderful dream
of the warmth of the moon’s beams.
But now I am awake and every muscle aches.
Guess I’ll stay in bed one more day
Don’t want to be awake.
|
||||
5. |
i'm so lonely
02:46
|
|||
|
I’m so lonely, feels like the only time I’m ever on your mind you’re dreaming.
I’m so lonely, feels like the only things that tell me anything don’t speak anymore.
I’m so lonely, feels like the only smile that’s ever on your face is fleeting.
I’m so lonely, feels like the only place I wanna sit and wait is anywhere but here.
|
||||
6. |
back to mud
01:03
|
|||
|
~
|
||||
7. |
i'm a chord
03:31
|
|||
|
every evening star display shoots radio static through the spray
and the warm tongues resonate through my brain
i don’t really know how it goes
anything could happen i’m sure
so what’s surprising anymore?
i thought that you gave me your word
i’m a chord stretched out thin
what’s concerning on a whim summarizes all i’ve been
harbored resentments bellow their constraints
now i got bruises running all down my back
and i keep pretending they’re not there
i don’t want to sing anymore
i don’t want to say i don’t care
|
||||
8. |
bend all the trees
01:56
|
|||
|
I want to sing and be heard, let all my fingers bleed out on the strings.
I want to capture all sentiments and put them into words and wear my heart out on my sleeve.
I want to bend all the trees with songs that permeate the bones.
I want to prove my heart was beating and feel my skin blistering in the wind.
|
||||
9. |
maybe if i
01:25
|
|||
|
Maybe if I tune my strings real low I’ll feel good again.
Just a few minutes ago I took some sleeping pills, but I still feel real bad.
Maybe if I lie in bed all day I’ll forget about everything.
Could it be that all I want is misery
|
||||
10. |
till i go deaf
02:12
|
|||
|
I’m so tired of writing songs, tired of switching round the chords from C to F.
But all the songs about that girl make me wanna sing til I go deaf.
But that’s not what she wants from me. I’m a love hungry man.
Why should I keep writing songs when all I wanna do is make her smile?
I’m a love hungry man.
|
||||
11. |
in color
01:29
|
|||
|
~
|
||||
12. |
warm foggy glow
03:06
|
|||
|
Why do I dream each night of a warm foggy glow that passes straight through the sky?
I can't recall feeling warmth at all.
I realize as I wake up in sweat and I'm laying in bed waiting for the morning sun to rise
I wish I could live a life so good.
In the fall it blushes through the wind
in the winter it freezes up again
in the spring time it trickles down my spine
in the summer it ruptures through my skin.
Waking up it brings me pain when I cannot return to the state I was in
I close my eyes and I begin to cry.
Dreaming it is so bittersweet, to go from a night of joy to a morning of deceit.
There is no end, there'll be tonight again.
And all my friends they seem to drop like flies
and all my fingers are dripping from the dyes
and my footsteps they stutter in their speech
and I am thrown over mountains high.
|
||||
13. |
sailboat
04:59
|
|||
|
My conscience is a sleeping lover out dipping her feet in the water.
She’s twirling her hair round her fingers and slurring her words like a drunkard.
Whispers of a purgatory of shiny carcophonous laughter
they blister and straighten and turn to, convincing her of life hereafter.
I wish I were dreaming
of a beautiful sailboat,
and from the crow’s nest
I’d drift through the ocean.
My mind is a wonderful servant but a fearful and terrible master.
His breathing is fogging the window where raindrops are pooling like blotters.
He mimics the acts of an exile, of a courteous and pitiful juror.
His clothes they smell of moonshine. His eyes are bloodshot with fervor.
One day all I’m doing
will cease to give matter.
And I’ll lay them to rest,
these feelings of luster.
I’ll hold my memories
until my knuckles are hurting
until the air in my chest
is no longer moving.
|
||||
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