1. |
parentheses
04:15
|
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this is not the end of the world
nor a moment serene
this is not the shape of things to come
but just parentheses
|
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2. |
dove in the belly
04:51
|
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Seeing double,
seeing red
constant trouble
grows inside my head
Are you friend or
are you foe?
It's like no mirror
I've ever seen before
Push me down,
shut me up.
Still I don't know what I've seen
Box me in
or cut me loose
Still it's all in between
It's all I can do to rely these days
on the dove in the belly
It's all I can do to rely these days
on the dove in the belly
to keep me awake.
Moving shadows
against the wall.
Blurry outlines
obscure and make us small.
Still I see you
feel you near
in this sickening silence
that mingles hope and fear.
It's all I can do to rely these days
on the dove in the belly.
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3. |
leftovers
05:24
|
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Clear plastic lids fit so tight.
Leftovers from our last fight.
I can tell you've kept them well.
In the fridge of your discontent
behind jars of time misspent
These arguments expire they don't retire.
Put your words in a microwave and reheat them once more.
So perfectly suited for guilty consumption.
A TV dinner apology
found in the back
tastes the same to me
I could cook up an excuse
pots and pans should get some use
And when you've had it before, what's one more?
Put your words in a microwave and reheat them once more.
So perfectly suited for guilty consumption.
So perfectly suited for empty consumption.
So perfectly suited for guilty consumption.
|
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4. |
love song (?)
02:22
|
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Want you more
Want you more
Want you more
Every day.
Said before
in so many ways
still can't ignore
such a perfect cliché.
Love sends you up inside your head
Love will run you around
until you drop dead.
Still want you more,
want you more.
what for
anyway?
Go fly your kite into a tree
Kick your ball into the street
'Cause if your heart is on your sleeve
You'll be tempted to tear it
And no one comes out clean.
You want to make someone happy,
make someone sad,
love's the best tool you have.
Da da ee da da da da da
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5. |
||||
somnambulating
eyes open and closed
what emerges in the mist of sleep
and what remains veiled
beautiful and out of reach
yet closer,
closer,
to the root of all,
the root of all
the root of all.
eyes steeped in saltwater
wells that won't run dry
and my breath won't reconcile
with what I have not seen
so in the spaces between the shudders
I'll listen for the time that you keep
the rise and fall
the rise and fall
the rise and fall.
|
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6. |
algeria
04:26
|
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A short order cook fixes eggs a dozen different ways and
mornings are the time of day that we insist on what we need like
not too runny or
don't speak to me before my cup of coffee.
Jam or ham
on the side
It's not that complicated.
Spoons, forks, and knives.
The daily clatter of our lives.
Upstairs a bathroom littered with letters
graffiti painted over blue
turns out the prose still shows through
the testament remains
The Buddha, Manson, Wilde, and Yeats
next to your life long love
whom you hate.
Draw her name on the wall or scratch it in the window.
Keep your nose up to the glass
so it's the pain you see past.
You cuss the customers with maps in their hand,
but their your passage to another land.
You say it's such a lonely planet,
how'd we read it in the same book?
The travel guide should tell you its a small town.
Take another look around
all the faces stay the same,
some probably know your name.
Oh. the night is like the morning.
And the days are not full enough,
no the nights are not full enough...
"so life slips by, like a field mouse, never rushing the grass"
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