1. |
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wrote an alibi in mistletoe. and drove it through my heart. left it there to watch it. to pull my ribs apart. left the blessing incomplete. and dying on the vine. stole the ground beneath my feet.is this gracious or malign? bells will toll ‘the king is dead’. crowds sing ‘long live the king’. heap the blessings on his head. anoint with oil and eulogy. withering out a young man’s state. still i dream of being born. cracking rocks at slumber’s gate. forging chains by which we’re drawn. sand will settle while we wait. these feet of clay will turn to stone. playing over my mistakes. make your peace or die alone. til seven years have come and gone. in secret i will wait. shadowed under reddened rocks. sleep by day and nights awake
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2. |
Fearless
05:05
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this state of grace that we have found. you pull me up, you break me down. this state of grace exists between us. drenched in your blood and i’m dying. to just lay here with you. making no sense of the white noise. and pheromone scent, i’m shaking. please don’t turn away. lay on your side with me. plan out our history. clavicle to clavicle. skin against my skin. this state of grace that we have found. you pull me up, you break me down. this state of grace exists between us. all the hollow spaces. of my head and neck and chest. and childhood home. are ringing out in sympathy. for all the things. i still haven’t done (i’ll go there with you). this state of grace that we have found. you pull me up, you break me down. this state of grace exists between us. we dare to dream at least in silence
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3. |
The Tremors
03:19
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pounding at the temples as it starts. it blossoms like bruises on hands and hips and hearts. whole days without speaking a word, nights spent curled like a newborn. losing all sense of momentum, the weight of my body is gone. these things come out at night. dead from the neck down. these feet will just make it home. to hide in the dark of my ribcage, to wait til the tremors have gone. breaking the tips from my fingers and spitting the words from my tongue. these things come out at night
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4. |
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all these steps are duplicates of journeys i have made a hundred times. take the footbridge cross the water, to the place where i said goodbye. hoping i'd be leaving, hoping i would not be back again. in search of safety, we killed the night sky. my sense of foresight was always blind. the sun has set on battlefields but we can still wage war most every night. propping up our teenage dreams, 'til closing time we put the world to rights. thinking we'd be leaving, thinking we would not be back again. in search of safety, we killed the night sky. my sense of foresight was always blind. all the streetlights of my hometown are blotting out the stars tonight
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5. |
Avogadro
04:11
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this feeling i'm fighting a battle and losing. i can't quantify what i'm trying to achieve here. this gift of clear vision that's fading, dissolving. stuck in a rut between feeling and hoping. just bodies under pressure and heat, you can wait til you're dead to sleep. this feeling i'm fighting a battle and losing. i can't quantify what i'm trying to achieve here. this gift of clear vision that's fading, dissolving. stuck in a rut between feeling and hoping. just bodies under pressure and heat, you can wait til you're dead to sleep. the sand will settle, the sand will settle
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6. |
To Meet Your Maker
02:55
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teleology gave us pause for thought. a mirror conversation in the absence of god. a pragmatist i've always been but desperate to believe. in holy welfare handouts i'm not programmed to receive. the devil's in the details, or so they say, at least. what's heresy between us but a reason not to speak? and if i am circumspect in spilling out my truth. be sure that i am frightened, not just trying to be aloof. fearful of the dialogue, this means to just one end. let sleeping sages lie and maybe i can stay your friend. you're mumbling st. anselm with a knife across your chest. this pretence of righteous anger, give it all a fucking rest. when you go to meet your maker, may it live up to your dreams. but this absence isn't public, it's between my god and me (the lights are all on, but no-one's home)
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7. |
The Hollow
02:19
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(instrumental)
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8. |
Howl
04:15
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i'll be with you in rockland. you'll look perfect in the snow .i'll be with you in rockland. on cross country trains we'll go. i'll be with you in rockland. you lain on sheets so white. i'll be with you in rockland. your laughter frozen in the light. in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes. such a perfect way to lose my mind. take this gift of passion under fire. desperate that we always find the time. i'll be with you in rockland. listing place and time. i'll be with you in rockland. your freezing hand in mine. i'll be with you in rockland. god, take me back there now. i'll be with you in rockland. we will howl. in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes. such a perfect way to lose my mind. take this gift of passion under fire. desperate that we always find the time
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9. |
Day After Day
06:01
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shackled to the weight of what we've lost. rules and regulations, ticking clocks. now there's no map to find our way back home. disoriented is all we've ever known. losing sense, pounding and flashing lights. still it looks like the end of the world at the end of the night. promises that get so hard to keep. i'm holding my stomach, singing myself to sleep. we're praying for blackouts now (we're getting out, we're getting out). i know somehow we're getting out. follow me down here, i won't look back. for fear of reprisals, the weight of the counter attack. dividing the spoils of a war we could never endorse. ending our lives in the red seems par for the course. we're praying for blackouts now (we're getting out, we're getting out). i know somehow we're getting out. day after day, cradle to grave. i'm still the same boy i always was. if i should die, think this of me. i'm still the same boy i always was
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10. |
Avogadro (Acoustic)
04:30
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this feeling i'm fighting a battle and losing. i can't quantify what i'm trying to achieve here. this gift of clear vision that's fading, dissolving. stuck in a rut between feeling and hoping. just bodies under pressure and heat, you can wait til you're dead to sleep. this feeling i'm fighting a battle and losing. i can't quantify what i'm trying to achieve here. this gift of clear vision that's fading, dissolving. stuck in a rut between feeling and hoping. just bodies under pressure and heat, you can wait til you're dead to sleep. the sand will settle, the sand will settle
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11. |
Deep Elm Records
With nearly 280 releases in its catalog, fiercely independent Deep Elm Records continues to build a better label - one that operates for glory, not gold. Deep Elm is about bands and fans coming together as one and experiencing music's awesome ability to inspire, comfort and console. We're not just making music together, we're making history. Dream / Create / Record / Release - Now for 27 Years. ... more
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