1. |
Alternate History
04:21
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Imagine that you never caught the express bus
Never sat by the girl or boy, no you and me, no us
No use for that diploma, you got some other gig
Another one of the many ways you never got too big
Who writes down
The alternate history
The truth unfounded
Contemplated wistfully
Who can ever capture
Chains of causal links
You'd need a wider aperture
Than God's own eyeball blinks
And a whole new scripture
Not to mention more light for the picture
Imagine that bastard they named the city after
Dying of dysentery or maybe hung from some rafter
A final breath a subtle shiver and a frozen pout
At that city at night a wonderful sight before his eyes go lights out
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2. |
Cold
03:56
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Cold
I don't want to leave you
But it's not like I have a choice
You've taken away my voice, if not my agency
So how I know I'm free is watching what I do
And seeing how it's perceived within your view
Watch as I go, see my trail
Get a good look at my head and my tail
You flipped my coin end over end
You made a choice between enemy and friend
So I'm leaving, I'm bold, so cold
That's how I'm leaving you,
That's how you know we're through
There's nothing left to do
Here in the freeze with you on your knees
Dead to the sensation
Trapped in your frustration
As I savor the elation
Of being somewhere else
So bold, so cold, so bold, so bold, so cold
So cold, so bold, so cold, so bold, so bold, so cold
That's how I leave us, you can believe me
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3. |
Fingerprints
03:31
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You're gone and I ain't missed you since, but don't ask me to dust myself for fingerprints. What's the statute of limitations on reporting a crime to the authorities? Would they laugh at me if I told them what you did? You're gone and I ain't missed you since, but don't ask me to dust myself for fingerprints. The criminologists need a theory: motive, means and opportunity, not to mention a body or two. In the absence of any motivating love, what's a criminologist to do, let alone me or you?
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4. |
Inside The Music
04:03
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I watched from the edge of the crowd, feeling the music so loud, touching my spine from the front, giving me all I could want. Right there in front of me was everyone I could see ranging in every age like they knew every page? Every dance in the book without even taking a look man they really could cook. Dancing so wild and free Some were as old as me somewhere as young as a gleam in the eye of their parents by and by. How did the music last so long? How did we fold up time into a song into a song? So much space so much time inside the music outside the music. So much faith, something fine inside the music outside the music. Like a wraith, here I sigh inside the music outside the music.
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5. |
Lights Out
03:33
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Let's face it I'll never know who sprayed the words
At the base of the pillar underneath the freeway
All I can do is play or not play
But I can drive slowly the alley feeling so tense
And make sure to avoid the tents rough sleepers
Need any peace they can get
And you might think it's late for lights out my pet
But you'd be surprised by how much darker it can get
I pull into the end at the edge of the sidewalk curb
But it's already too late not to disturb what somebody
Left out overnight or left behind
Time to take my hands off the wheel gather what
I can feel with my hands nearby and lock whatever
The key permits against atavistic fits
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6. |
Missing Sunrise
03:47
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I know the city by night
How every lamp shines down from overhead
To me every street looks bright
While all good people sleep like the dead
I open up my ears to hear sounds
On my own all alone I do what I want
I carry out my appointed rounds
I once was a daily habitué but now I only haunt
If I still had friends to meet
They might say I look a little pale
Maybe they'd suggest more red meat
Travel to put a little wind in my little sail
I open my mouth to let out sound
The things I feed on would simply astound
I carry out my appointed rounds
The only point since you're not around
And I find I don't miss much
Except the look that was in your eyes
The glow that I saw go with your goodbyes
I suppose that it's only fair
Now that darkness and I are a pair
Together in my lair I'm only missing sunrise
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7. |
Nineteen
04:31
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What do I tell someone who's nineteen? They don't know what I could mean. It's a language you used to speak, you lost it one word at a time. Now you're older, too much reason, too little rhyme. What kind of sense can you convey? The passage of time, the movement of space? What kind of meaning can you make last that won't simply come down to dust and ash: tell them to be kind? And when they rewind back to the moment where your lips were moving, try not to put too much stock proving you wrong? Time will do that on its own, together or alone.
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8. |
Not Waving
03:32
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If bodies are mostly water
As most of the scientists insist
Tell me why I turn to vapor and
Fog at the thought of your kiss
Find myself floating above your ocean
Missing you so much I turn to mist
Flowing in lonely slow emotion
If only you could see my hand and wrist
I'm not waving
I'm only going under
Barely breaking the surface
Worried that I'm worthless
To one I hold in awe and wonder
I'm not waving
I'm only going under
Barely breaking the surface
Soon these bubbles will cease
Then I might even get some peace
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9. |
Pedestrian
04:45
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You grind out the days slipping and out of lanes like you're good at it. You flinch away from the horns and the scorn of the folks behind the wheels catching feels. You're just trying to get somewhere and everybody keeps getting in your way.
You don't exactly remember when. Perhaps it was a good book. Perhaps it was a friend, but you've been disabused of the glamor of the road, the highway's charms and their associated harms. You feel a pedestrian heart and all pedestrians are brothers, putting one foot in front of the other.
It's a road. It's a sign. It's a lane. You'll be fine. Headlights on and your foot on the gas. You can't have acceleration without mass.
You're watching the lights you're watching the lines you're watching the bumpers you're watching the signs. It's a beautiful place, but you can't stay.
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10. |
Quiet Down
04:17
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You've got your hands over your head like you mean to strike me dead, or at least hurt my feelings, leave me reeling. You didn't think before you got yourself in this position. You're just unlucky, you never had a superstition. And no, I won't quiet down, in fact I think I'll alert the town that this is something you try, hoping I'd be intimidated or die. It didn't fall the way you'd hoped it would, we're never going to be all good. Tell me what you think about that.
The wind is flat, but it's going to rise soon. The sun's going to shine down on you like high noon. The rain will follow, wet as a monsoon, and you'll be exposed. And no, I won't quiet down, in fact I think I'll alert the town that this is something you try, hoping I'd be intimidated or die. It didn't fall the way you'd hoped it would, we're never going to be all good. Tell me what you think about that.
Why should I lower the decibels, when to do so would only leave me in hell? I see no point in misery at least not without company. You're going to have to tell how feels.
You've got your hands over your head, it's now too late to strike me dead, 'cause everyone's looking and I don't think they like what you're cooking. If you tried to serve it to them, you'd be in it all the way up to your hems and tracking it everywhere.
And now I won't quiet down, in fact I think I'll alert the town that this is something you trt, hoping I'd be intimidated or die. It didn't fall the way you'd hoped it would, we're never going to be all good. Tell me what you think about that.
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11. |
Signs And Wonders
03:35
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Not every sign is a wonder. Not everything underneath can speak to things. The sooner you learn to see the difference, the easier it's going to be. And I know that's kind of an empty promise, but you get much more of those than will ever be met. So you kind of have to make your peace with them. After all, they're in pieces. They've beaten you to it. You pay attention to the tangents. Expect that they'll coalesce sometime down the line after the mouth stops moving. Take notes as best you can. Nod your head if you need to. Someone's gonna grade on a curve. Don't worry about the count. It's not what's in the ledger in large amounts. It's not what's in the till, but underneath, or what makes it to the safe or the off-shore account. Anyway, there's the name tag and the apron. Just wear the hat. I know it's not all that and a smile. Hold your place in line. Remember your opening sign, that it's not a wonder.
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12. |
Suspended
04:48
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Make me a moment in your arms! I promise to take my time. I don't know what I'm doing. Give me a breath, and I'll give you mine. Let the air surround us and sensations astound us! There is no container or box, there is no key, there are no locks, there is no dirt and no rocks, why pretend it: we are suspended in the air! How did we get up there? Suspended: allow me to amend it, we are never coming down. You were dancing on top of a train, the rhythm was making me insane. There was a band behind us beating on drums. All I know is you wanted some and I wanted some too. Scenery rushing past, the winds in our faces so fast, the pressure of getting somewhere, but the rails knows the destination.
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13. |
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Two Floors Over Tenth Street
From two floors over Tenth Street
The sun slowly swings from east to west
Autonomous vehicles creep to the beat
Under fog hugging hills like a cozy vest
Who knew that sky could look like that
Not me, not me, not before this morning
There's still the rest of the day to look forward to
Tasks for the asking for us to push on through
If the new terror doesn't kill me
Sheer boredom in its wake just might
Fear of error only costs a small fee
But it won't bring that beat back tonight
From two floors over Tenth Street
Motion sensitive cameras travel light
Eye-level headlamps glow, horns blow sweet
Chasing distant desire or sometimes sight
Who knew your eyes could look like that
Not me, not me, not before this morning
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Saint and Kings San Pablo, California
I’m a singer-songwriter using guitars and keyboards to craft distinctive dispatches from intimate interiors, vast exteriors and all points in between. Drawing on years of pop, soul, indie, folk and dance-music fandom, I try to turn observations and narratives into succinct sonic snapshots. ... more
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