1. |
The Morning Show
03:10
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everybody is sure of this thing i’m in.
cause it looks like forgiveness, but it tastes like sin.
you had all but one place to go.
i heard her crying through the morning show.
she was the prize of her left-side coast.
the daughter of a son of a right-wing ghost.
kansas city don’t care who you know.
i heard her crying through the morning show.
i know it takes a lot to leave a lot behind.
taking care is the same as taking time.
just be aware, and goddammit be kind.
i know it takes a lot to leave a lot behind.
your archetype of good enough.
is fun to like, but hard to love.
besides you’re better now, so you better go.
i heard her crying through the morning show.
god bless these blooming aster buds.
forcing fall to bite its tongue.
don’t ask what you don’t want to know.
i heard her crying through the morning show.
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2. |
Carolinian Blue
04:06
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angelina bite your tongue.
never mind this morning’s hue.
we’re all one way when we’re young.
‘til someplace keeps that part of you.
dreams of seafoam green on wood.
two stop towns ‘neath autumn snow.
i’m overly self-defined by should.
still, i should’ve left some years ago.
now i, oh i. i am undone.
so why. oh why. am i so sure of all i do.
it’s fine. we’re fine. i said i’m fucking fine.
but if i’m anything, i’m carolinian blue.
cut me through and count the rings.
time’s a funny thing to waste.
emotionally harboring.
these harbingers of yesterday.
i never thought i asked for much.
but i asked a failure’s frequency.
the distance between love and lust.
that’s broken heart cartography.
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3. |
Fun for the Thoughtful
03:18
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i’ve paid my dues to the city.
i’ve strayed in vagabond boots.
see an idle heart is prone to pity,
it hasn’t the right things to do.
half the time we’re almost all lying.
leaving truths to bathroom stalls.
we blame our moons for our swelling tides.
while our bridges burn themselves.
everybody’s bathed in light in the morning.
everybody’s blanket is night as it falls.
your loneliness loves that you think it ain’t showing.
but i could be wrong. so i guess that’s all.
i worried about my mother. when my father’s time was up.
she said “everybody, boy, has lost somebody,
what’s so goddamn special about us”.
my sister she is one of the good ones.
she had her baby in the fall.
we all got this sink full of calls to
make, but we don’t gotta make em all.
there’s always some heart worth chasing.
there is always some guilt to shake.
we make up, make do, or just make out,
like there is anything else to make.
so here is one more song low and chockful.
of thoughts that i’d be fine without.
see cause what seems fun for the thoughtful,
is not all that fun just to think about.
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4. |
Cool Summer
05:10
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it’s been a cool summer.
i’ve spent a long while from home.
sing me one more. sing me another.
the more i see, the more i see go.
fresh rain out the window, a tooth around your neck.
you’ll want to take this next right slow,
not these lights the next.
i’ll show you where i come from. whisper long lost desires.
we’ll glimpse the grey leftover, when life and light expire.
it’s not that i’m shy or anxious, it’s that i can never see.
what the ones that i end up with, would do with all of me.
i have never pulled off handsome,
at best small town strong.
i stumble through on chance, like i do most of these songs.
i am about as good at patient, as i am good at sad.
sometimes i’m not the patron, or man i think i am.
i get along with winter, it’s august i profess.
that leaves me ever unsure, hook, line, and bated breath.
so tomorrow we’ll get up early. smile, stretch, exhale.
6, maybe 6:30, bright eyed, bushy tailed.
we’ll search through dead blonde grasses.
forlorn but 2 abreast.
for the thing morning reveals that time loves to forget.
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5. |
Ain't Like the Movies
04:36
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this sure ain’t like the movies. this sure ain’t like i thought.
sweet perspectives lifted, bestow the suspicion,
i’ve had this all wrong.
no one said it’d be easy. but i never asked.
lilacs to fall mums, every season dies young,
annual epitaphs.
i’m not who i expected. i am not who i planned.
self destructively optimistic,
a compulsive romantic of a man.
but you remind me of something.
like it’s always been here.
cold rain, mortal coil, 2 stroke engine oil,
dark liquor, or fear.
but it all, falls down.
hollow psalms from hallowed sounds.
(the distance here, from grace, astounds).
yes. it all falls down. in the end.
i got 10 on my 20. 20 on my 10.
i know you better now, but you sure as hell, knew me
better then.
cause i’ve seen the gravestones. bouquets run aground.
assured in despair, but goddammit i swear,
i still see you around.
this sure ain’t like the movies. or the books that i read.
where i was told i’d find beauty, i found tethered loosely,
spent roses instead.
this is not about movies. this is not about plans.
these chains round my throat, as far as chains go,
feel a lot like my hands.
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6. |
Only a Country
05:40
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it’s a young thing to say, but an old thing to think.
about the way our time. conspires.
so we judge all our cities, by the price of their drinks.
desperately keeping our hearts. on fire.
we would spend most our nights. our parents’ clothes on.
helping our favorite friends with their songs.
some of them i adored, though now most i’ve forgot.
and i can’t recall a time. i wasn’t tired.
will you still love me? is this gonna hold?
it’s only a country. it’s only a little cold.
you got to get gone. to get to come home.
but if you’re sure you miss me.
i can show you the road.
with old leather saddles. and rivers for names.
there are men more stoic than i.
but with a broke shovel handle. my love stokes the flame.
she’s what keeps me warm at night.
beneath old almanacs. cheap scotch on ice.
i love her the way that this birch bark ignites.
with one last great howl. god dammit be kind.
we collapse by hatchback light.
will you still love me? is this gonna hold?
it’s only a country. it’s only a little snow.
my momma said. love. it won’t be like you’re told.
but if you’re sure you miss me.
i can show you the road.
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garden party Toronto, Ontario
Fun for the Thoughtful.
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