1. |
Lake
03:05
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So many comments left under my tongue,
words that were never spoken or sung.
The light was too dismal, the air was too humid, the room was too cold.
I rely on the climate for my excuses to hold.
How many conversations of retracing my steps does it take
to find my own body and lift it out of this lake?
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2. |
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At the end of your week, are you answering honestly?
Are you drowning in water under the bridge
or choking on dust you swept under the rug?
It's not your fault I made my bed in good faith with bad blood.
It's the cost to be on the in between.
It's not so safe outside my window.
The howling rages on.
For all the years where did the wind go?
I slept while it got strong.
I want to fix this sensation torn in two
and build a shelter to shield me and you
from the draft that's pushing through.
It's not so safe outside my window.
The howling rages on.
For all the years where did the wind go?
I slept while it got strong.
It's not so safe outside my window.
The howling rages on.
For all the years where did the wind go?
I've learned to fear the calm.
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3. |
Torn From The Root
03:47
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So cold is my home, beneath the sill of the window.
The burn of the earth and oil keeps warm the soles of my feet.
I spot at the edge of the pane, a crack where hot air's escaping.
Like a prisoner waits just for a chance to break free.
Keep turning those gears on me.
I've never met a burden so clear.
Am I destined to be a branch that fell from the tree?
Hang up those old coats by the door.
The scent of autumn and smoke, evermore.
Am I too afraid to face the lines that you trace in me?
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4. |
House of Tigers
04:35
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Atlas on the asphalt, I can smell my blood
as it runs down my chin and mixes in with the mud.
I know that's all I am anyway, from one form to the next
I feel the dirt leave my veins and flood the grain of the desk.
Oh I hope you made it home alright.
All this lecturing just twists the knife.
Oh I hope you made it home alright.
The paperbacks and cracked spines
all far from my mind, fail to glue-bind
the sinking of my chest and the peeling of my skin.
Oh I hope you made it home alright.
All this lecturing just twists the knife.
Oh its hard to learn you're not alive.
Is this lesson meant to lessen me?
Everlasting; you never were.
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5. |
St. Francis
05:16
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Can you hear me or is it too loud in this room?
The buzz of old friends who stopped by just to huddle around you.
Cause it's deafening me when they ask me how I'm doing like there's nothing there to see and move along.
The lights are off but you're still home
tidying your suit, tightening your tie,
slipping on your shoes, saying your goodbyes,
stepping out the door, heading out to find that you're...
Eyes are getting weak, so we read to you the letters sent by those too scared to speak and bear witness to a life in decline.
And it suffocates me to see the change in you every week.
Its hard to breathe just watching you sleep.
The lights are off but you're still home
tidying your suit, tightening your tie,
slipping on your shoes, saying your goodbyes,
stepping out the door, heading out to find that you're
out of the woods and into greener pastures.
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